For a long time, I didn’t think perimenopause had really touched me. Menopause, on the other hand, arrived all at once like a violent storm. But with hindsight, I could see how “peri” had quietly been moving through my body for years.
I didn’t injure my arm doing anything impressive. No gym accident, no heroic mishap, nothing dramatic or worth retelling at a dinner party as once upon a decade ago it may have been. I injured myself carrying three bottles of Gin.
