Post #34
Is this dementia?
The Crone Incident Report · Classification: Top Secret Bullshit · Mission Status: Barely Holding It Together
If you’ve felt the deathly shroud of brain fog descend on you, snuffing out the life of your engram cells (memory brain cells to us lay-Crones), then you’ll relate to this. Suddenly your brain is filled with cotton wool and that urgent thought you had a second previously has got swabbed up like spilled nail polish remover and lost forever.
You know? That fucking annoying (and scary) as hell thing that happens when you walk into a room and forget what you went in for? Oh, and then there’s that other lovely thing. You forget the names of simple things.
The toaster suddenly becomes (and I now repeat some things I’ve said to Tatter Cloak much to his frustration like a game of charades and me being impressively crap at it) “you know,” (at this point I start getting grumpy because I can’t explain it) “the thing in there,” (I wave towards the kitchen hoping his two balls, contrary to what he says, are indeed crystal and he has divined what I mean while I look like I’m having a seizure) “oh for fuck’s sake the bread heater thing.” Then I just give up, defeated.
Lucky for me he gets it. But while I picture things in my head, they can’t seem to make their way to my tongue, which gets tied or just stops working. All in all, I hate this with a vengeance. But you get it too, I know that for a fact. You know these momentary brain farts that rob you of your self-esteem and dignity all too well.
I can’t tell you how many times I was doing this in the early days of perimenopause and would say to Tatter Cloak (or rather stop mid-sentence) and stare ahead baffled and concerned that I’d forgotten what I was saying. When it started happening at least ten times a day, I made an appointment with that useless article known as my doctor, and feared for my sanity.
Was I getting dementia? Was it a brain tumor? Was I just destroying brain cells watching Real Slappers of Wherever? Or was it all three? Triple whammy of engram destruction.
Turns out, in my case, the truth was a LOT simpler. Thank FUCK for that too. My brain fog appeared to be linked to the hormonal chaos of perimenopause.
Estrogen apparently has a shit load of receptors in the brain (JUST like every other organ in our bodies), including in the hippocampus. No, not a university for the majestic African mammals, but a region heavily involved in memory and learning.
Now here’s the nub of those brain farts. Researchers are investigating how changing estrogen levels affect the way the brain uses energy, communicates between cells and supports memory. Changes in glucose metabolism, brain networks and chemical messengers may all play a part, although the exact causes of menopausal brain fog are still being studied.
The result for some of us? Difficulty retrieving words and focusing, aka brain fog. According to research discussed in a 2023 Psychology Today article, cognitive complaints are common during the menopause transition. GREAT! As if we needed another item on the fucking list.
There’s still plenty of debate about whether HRT reliably improves brain fog. Some women report improvement; research has not established it as a treatment for preventing dementia or reliably restoring memory.
In my own experience, getting on HRT stopped the brain fog, and when my hormones flip and flop, the brain fog ebbs and flows accordingly. Coincidence? Maybe, but I’m not looking the damn gift horse in the mouth.
A MESSAGE TO MY SISTER CRONES: BRAIN FOG IS REAL. AND IF IT’S SCARING YOU, GET IT CHECKED OUT.
LONG LIVE THE CRONE!