Testosterone and Google-itis
Friday started off with a surprising email from my doctor. Contrary to expectations, I wasn’t in the grip of a deadly tropical disease or about to die of an over-active imagination. Apparently the blood extracted at some cost on Wednesday revealed that I was deficient in all the B vitamins and testosterone.
So that was why I was waking up exhausted and spending the day aching to go back to bed (even taking the odd nap during the day). It wasn’t because I’m a lazy cow (the view of friends so fuelled by HRT that they can shop non-stop all day, then stalk the male population of Cape Town on Tinder all night).
My doctor recommended an array of tablets, injections and creams. I was, however, a tad anxious about her recommendation that I supplement testosterone. I had visions of sprouting facial and chest hair and my voice breaking. In my current state, I’m more Sleeping Beauty than Shrek. Do I want that to change? Is being awake all day over-rated…?
I also suffer from chronic google-itis so the obvious next step was to check out the symptoms of low testosterone in … ummm … mature… women. (I use the word ‘mature’ purely in reference to years. I subscribe to the view that if you haven’t grown up by 40, you needn’t bother.)
First in the search was a website stating Testosterone Deficiency Syndrome (TDS) is a collection of symptoms some people recognize as ageing, an untreatable condition of humanity.
I should probably state here and now that ageing is freaking me out. It isn’t going to happen. Botox and collagen fillers would be my best friends if I could afford them. If it was proved that eating a pound of squirrel shit every day would take 10 years off my face, I’d do it.
I digress… Back to testosterone deficiency and anther internet search. Apparently, the first symptom is loss of libido. Having been widowed a few years ago, I was quite pleased to see the back of that! It’s most inconvenient having juices and drives when one’s potential partners are grumpy old buggers with creaking knees and nose hair.
The best chat up line I’ve had this year is: “You must have been beautiful when you were young”. (I guess he must have been fucking stupid all his life.)
Is it me or do men become boring quickly when left on their own after 50? I’ll probably go back to that another time.
(To avoid gender bias, I must add that single women over 50 have a tendency to witter when excited. My golden rule is to avoid excitement at all costs. Wearing pants that ride up your bum is a good way to suppress excitement of any kind.)
Back to testosterone…
More research revealed that the symptoms of low testosterone are:
fatigue – got that;
disrupted sleep – never been good at sleep but maybe I always had low testosterone;
weight gain – not me. I notice people go one way or t’other as they age. They either plump up or they wither. Unfortunately, I’m a witherer. I’m envious of my plumper-upper friends and thought I’d put on some weight in the hope of getting lovely smooth arms and apple cheeks like theirs, instead of having monkey paws and cheeks so sunken you can see the outline of my fillings. It wasn’t easy putting on weight. Sadly it wrapped around my waist like a flotation aid, while my chest remained bony and my arms and legs stayed stick-like. I looked like I belonged in a beetle drive;
depression – when the love of your life dies, you’re bound to feel a bit low so probably not a testosterone thing in my case;
anxiety – if worrying was an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist. I’m becoming convinced that I’ve been low on testosterone since forever.
hair loss – I’ve always had crap hair so I thought it didn’t apply to me, but the website picture made me think twice… 
Does loss of a good bush matter? Do I want it back? Should I want it back? Apparently ‘most’ women nowadays have all their pubic hair removed (some opting to leave a little Hitler moustache atop Mons Pubis).
As a committed environmentalist, I won’t be doing that. It’s been at least 20 years since I’ve had the inclination to wear a swim suit. The level of deforestation required to tidy up my nether regions would surely contribute to climate change … but I digress…
anorgasmia – ehhh? I had to google that one. It’s inability to have orgasms. Do I care!!?
My doctor’s receptionist is very excited about me ‘doing testosterone’. Apparently it makes you feel amazing. She wants me to pop by in two weeks time to tell her how wonderful my life has become. Despite her enthusiasm, I was still plagued by thoughts of morphing into Shrek so headed back to google the benefits. Apparently testosterone will :
contribute to strong bones – yep – always a good thing;
help manage discomfort and pain sensitivity – my husband would mutter “where there’s no sense, there’s no feeling” as I drove garden forks through my feet and pruned my fingers while merrily gardening. My apparently high pain threshold allows me to do terrible damage to myself before I realise I’m not feeling well. Would it be good to desensitise myself further?
preserve cognitive health – another quick Google explained that’s ‘the ability to think clearly, learn and remember”. I don’t think I ever had that ability. I’m becoming increasingly convinced that I’ve spent my lifetime low on testosterone. Having never had a clue about anything, would the sudden onset of mental clarity and a memory be good? Suddenly I’m afraid. I’m rather fond of my slightly hazy world.
bestow a sense of well-being – Well, it’s good to feel good, isn’t it.
So, in the interests of staying awake for more than two hours at a time, having strong bones and enhancing my sense of well-being, I’ll do testosterone. At the slightest hint of morphing into Shrek, it’s going straight down the toilet. I shall report back…
