The Pill and I

Story contd.

All my married life I used the Family Planning Clinic; the one I used in Kent famously had a notice saying ‘Please leave prams at rear of building. The staff were always helpful and would explain the advantages or disadvantages of different methods of contraception. What a great day it was when the pill arrived on the scene; that really was an empowerment for women, and as far as I was concerned the cap and cream could now be consigned to the dust bin. In the early sixties the pill was available to all and although we were warned about possible long term effects, many of us were prepared to risk that.

In my mid forties I began to feel unwell, both mentally and physically. I knew I was suffering from the ‘empty nest ‘syndrome but all the knocks and bruises I had suffered whilst rock climbing came home to roost and all my joints ached – especially my right hip.. The worst symptom was a knot of dread/fear/ unease in my stomach which affected my sleeping and made me feel neurotic. And my cigarette consumption had doubled which increased my twitchiness.

I visited the doctor and she gave me a tranquiliser which was very common then. I can’t remember the name but I don’t think it was Valium. It was odd; I took a couple and the knot disappeared so I thought maybe this was something I could treat myself. William, since his heart attack, had tackled every aspect of maintaining good health and with the aid of a good diet and plenty of exercise, was keeping very fit. I read a lot of self help books and started Yoga classes. The yoga was a boon; I have always abhorred violent exercise and enjoyed stretching my body. At my first class I had an orgasm.

I knew I should give up smoking; I had reached the stage where I would go to light up and realise I had one in my mouth already. Isn’t that awful? I decide to try a health farm and sent off for some brochures. I didn’t want one full of ‘the beautiful people’ or rich layabouts, but I also didn’t want one full of very sick people. The one I chose in Surrey was ideal – a beautiful old house in lovely grounds with every possible type of exercise available. At the bottom of the great staircase was the smoking room and I determined that if I was spending all that money I had better not smoke. That was in 1977 and I haven’t smoked since.

The first few days I had nothing but clear fluids and grapefruit and filled the day with yoga, swimming, reading, and in the afternoon we would go for a long walk with Andy, an ex- army fitness instructor. If he was pleased with us he would dole out segments of orange and tease us by telling us what he had for breakfast each morning- about four eggs, bacon etc etc and he was all muscle.

Our yoga instructress wore a beautiful white lace leotard which had belonged to Ava Gardner. During one session, she told us, the crotch fasteners gave way and Ave – in a rage - tore it off and bequeathed it. The instructress said Ava also had a black lace one but she hung on to that. After a few days I was allowed to have a nourishing soup at lunchtime.

I savoured every last drop – much to the amusement of my neighbour who turned out to be a Manchester business man. He was very interesting – Jewish and a millionaire and the other friend I made was a beautiful woman who was German, we made an odd trio. Later she married her long term boyfriend and my # 1 son and I were invited and met Tony Hatch the famous composer who wrote all Petula Clarke’s hits and the tune ‘Neighbours’. His wife Jackie Trent wrote the words.. Another regular visitor was the late John Thaw – Inspector Morse – and all the staff adored him. I’ve often thought I would like to return – it was great being cosseted and meeting the wide mix of people, living an extremely healthy life and maybe writing at the same time. Now there’s an idea.

On returning home I felt so fit I wondered about Olympics and marathons and then I realised my eyes needed testing and I kept getting terribly hot and feeling peculiar. It was the dreaded hot flushes or as one of Kim’s friend’s calls them ’power surges’. Again I turned to the printed page and read a great little book ‘Don’t Change’ by Wendy Cooper all about HRT. When I saw the photo of the vibrant woman on the cover I thought - I’ll have what she’s having. Wouldn’t you think I would have realised that it was a model – not the author? But with all the warnings and provisos I decided to give it a go and in spite of all the various scares and adjustments it’s been fine. Except I went up a dress size