Shmirshky (7 page)

CHAPTER 21
sex in the desert

I was born in Flint, Michigan, but when I was five we moved to Tucson, Arizona. I loved the desert. I always thought it was beautiful. What does this have to do with PM&M, you ask? When you're in PM&M, before you realize it, you may find that you're lost in a sex slump. Your shmirshky switches from naked and frolicking on a tropical island to being spiteful and stranded in the Mojave Desert. You find yourself doing anything you can to avoid going to bed. Let me just stop here and say that there were no crumbs in my kitchen drawers, nor a hair floating anywhere in my bathroom. My kitchen sink sparkled, and every e-mail anyone ever wrote me suddenly required an immediate response before I could even consider going to bed. Are you getting my drift? Our wonderful afternoon delights turned into trips to get ice cream. Basically our sex life took an immediate nosedive . . . only not into shmirshky land!

Part of this slump was caused by my extremely dry shmirshky. Sex hurt! Those two words should not be back to back. Let's face it; you need an ocean to surf! These changes seemed to creep up on me. Of course, I was trying to be “fine.”

I tried subtly sneaking in questions to my fellow shmirshkies about this problem. Everyone danced around it until I got the courage to just come right out with it and ask, “Did your sex life change? Was your shmirshky dry?” Don't misunderstand me, the shmirshky doesn't suddenly look like a prune—it's the inside that feels like it has been dehydrated!

I found out that almost every PM&M shmirshky I talked to had experienced some time in the desert, and every one of us was embarrassed to talk with our doctors about this issue. Shmirshkies, let's not take the orgasm out of our lives! No need to do that!

You may find that these symptoms hit you later in your PM&M path. When this happens, pick up the phone, call your doctor, and ask to have your free/total testosterone and estrogen checked. You may have had them checked three months ago and they were normal, but with these symptoms, it is possible that they're not at a functional level anymore. Low testosterone contributes to a lack of sex drive. Low estrogen contributes to vaginal dryness. Low is not fun! There
is
help for this. Take a page out of my book and don't be afraid to be open and speak freely with your doctor. My new doctor fixed this problem in no time by adjusting my HRT. Share your sexual challenges with your partner as well. This open communication is so much healthier and might even make dealing with the challenge a little less stressful.

With a little lube and/or HRT, you can be back frolicking on the beach in no time! Now you can give those flannel pajamas you've been sleeping in a few nights off. You know what I'm referring to, the pj's that say “closed for business” to your partner. Find some fun new things to sleep in! “The change” doesn't have to be such a downer . . . instead, change it up!

CHAPTER 22
no needles in my shmirshky

I am excited to report that I eventually did find some truly magic hands! I learned from my shmirshky recon that some shmirshkies found great relief from hot flashes and other PM&M symptoms by receiving acupuncture.
⁶³

 

shmirshky party alert!

I passed that information on to my friend Cory, who was really struggling with hot flashes. She didn't want to go on HRT, so she tried acupuncture. I loved hearing how successful this was for Cory. Are you sitting down? After four appointments she was freed from her random drench sessions! Cory still visits every once in a while as part of her health regimen or perhaps just to hug the acupuncturist for turning off her leaking faucet. Recently, Cory notched up her work-out routine by adding more cardio. The combination of acupuncture and aerobic exercise (
intentional
perspiration can be so wonderful) helped alleviate her mood swings as well. Acupuncture, like any medical treatment, is meant to be just one part of an overall healthy lifestyle. Go, Cory!

Janice is another shmirshky who managed her PM&M symptoms with acupuncture. Janice went to a school of acupuncture once a week (sometimes twice a week at first). Her dominant PM&M symptoms were heart palpitations and anxiety. There were nights when Janice would lie in bed with her heart pounding so hard that she thought she was about to have a heart attack. Can you imagine how scary that was? Janice decided to give acupuncture a whirl, and she ended up taking a Chinese herbal cocktail (I prefer vodka, personally) along with her acupuncture treatments. She said that while the acupuncture didn't totally relieve her symptoms, it helped significantly. Janice, like Cory, now continues to visit her acupuncturist as part of her general health routine.

 

Of course, you want to be sure that whomever you go to has a national and state license, and is well trained. Be sure to do your research.
⁶⁴
Some acupuncturists want to give you all kinds of herbs along with your treatment; remember that these are medicines too.

While my HRT was starting to make an impact, I wanted to try acupuncture for myself. I should have asked Cory or Janice where they put the needles, because my palms were wet and beads of sweat were racing down my face as I walked toward the acupuncturist's office. I subtly patted the sweat off my forehead as I looked down to see if my shmirshky was sweating. It had been a while since that had happened, but my shmirshky was really scared.

I didn't want anyone to think I was having a minor panic attack, but let's be honest, it was a cool spring day and I looked like I had just walked out of a sauna. I wasn't fooling anyone. I thought my shmirshky was about to become a pincushion.

Once I entered the office lobby, the whole feeling of the space immediately calmed me. I filled out pages and pages of forms about my health, medications, vitamins, etc., and then the acupuncturist and I discussed my situation in great depth. I was taken with the amount of time that she spent with me and the detail of her questions. I gave her a copy of my most recent hormone, TSH, and cholesterol lab work. Next we went into a small room that looked similar to a massage room. There was a bed covered in sheets. I was told to get undressed (but keep my underwear on) and slip under the sheets. “Keep my underwear on?” I thought. “No needles in my shmirshky!” I tried to keep my elation under wraps, but inside I was having a private shmirshky party.

The acupuncturist was very gentle. It was so interesting to me that there wasn't even one needle near my shmirshky. Quite honestly, it all went so smoothly that I'm not sure where all the needles went. Only one time did it feel uncomfortable, and that was in a spot somewhere on my left foot. I have heard that to some, feet can be very sensual. I've never subscribed to this, as I have a second toe that looks like a foot-long hot dog and protrudes way beyond my big toe. This sight being quite bizarre, I have never encouraged any sexual partner to wander down near my dangling dogs. In the acupuncture world, however, the feet talk to the shmirshky. Good to know.

The very best part of the acupuncture hour is the massage you get while the needles are in (be sure to ask for this). I believe I was carried away somewhere far from PM&M land. I noticed my body sinking into the bed and my extremities becoming like J-e-l-l-O—all smooshy and gooshy and wonderful. I didn't want to leave. I paid for this wonderful service and floated out of the office.
⁶⁵

CHAPTER 23
let my shmirshky go

Remember me, the Master Organizer? Well, apparently I had one humongous messy drawer with stuff bulging out of it that I had neglected for years. I know it's a shocker. After all, my closet is organized by color and clothing type, and each hanger is facing the same direction. All the towels in my linen closet are perfectly folded and aligned by size and color. Nothing in my house is messy; I am always ready to have a party at the drop of a hat; no special cleaning needed! I never leave my house without making my bed. My mom assured me that this is very important. After all, someone could stop by! In the thirty-nine years since I moved out of my mother's home, no one has ever stopped by and gone into my bedroom—not even her. Still, I am always ready.

So, please explain to me how the Supreme Master Organizer of the Universe had a messy drawer
anywhere
.

The answer is simple: the messy drawer was in my head. You see, I had spent many years choosing to focus on others' needs and emotions, leaving no time to focus on my own. It was so much easier being there for others than it was being there for myself. I am way more of a handful.

Once again, I found PM&M teaching me many new things. I had no choice but to open up this drawer, as all kinds of emotions had started bursting out of it. The crazier my hormones were, the more difficult it was for me to keep this drawer closed. Oh, yes, I tried. I mentally shoved a gigantic, heavy chair under the knob, but it didn't work. So I decided to let it all out. Yes, you have to take
everything
out, one item at a time. There are no shortcuts to this. If you empty only half the drawer, the other half will still be a bursting mess.

Here is how I did it. Every evening I took a wonderful, relaxing bath. It was here that I was completely alone. Surrounded by my bath salts and bubbles, I carefully opened my bulging drawer. I took out one emotion at a time and let myself feel. These feelings were a part of me. I needed to acknowledge and respect them. Most of my life I only knew how to be Type A, but now I was learning how to just B!
⁶⁶

Some nights I cried. Some nights I laughed. Some nights I was angry and disappointed. Most important, I allowed myself to not be “fine.” I realized many new things about myself—some that I liked, some that I wanted to change. Change is good.

Shmirshkies are brought up to be the caregivers, but we
must
learn how to think inside the box and take care of ourselves. Find your own special time and place to go through your drawer. It takes time, so be patient and love yourself through the process. Not everything you've done will look or feel so good in retrospect, but that's okay—no one is perfect. Love and respect the old you, just as you embrace the new.

By the way, there's no need to put all that stuff back in the drawer! No folding neatly or organizing by color. Practice tackling the emotions as they arise. If the drawer starts to build up again, go back and clean it out. Try going through your drawer each night (maybe after you brush your teeth). If you find that there are a few big issues in that drawer that require a professional organizer, don't be afraid to find a counselor to help you.

We need to learn how to be comfortable with being
vulnerable
. I found that when I allowed myself to be vulnerable, I became fearless. A fearless shmirshky is a wonderful thing!

CHAPTER 24
sumo free

So many times I felt alone during PM&M, except, of course, for the sumo wrestler in my head. You know the massive wrestlers who wear those
mawashi
loincloths? A guy like
that
! He is big. I mean, really,
really
big and very intimidating. In real life they might be nice guys, but in my mind, my sumo is always saying horrible things to me, like:

• You're getting old and wrinkled.

• You'll never sleep well again.

• You're already fat, so you might as well finish all that cookie dough and skip baking the cookies.

• You're not smart anymore.

• You're not sexy anymore.

• You'd better fix this PM&M.

• You'd better get this book done fast and make it perfect!

You want to hear something crazy? My sumo never wrestles me down. He never even touches me. I just fall down all by myself! Who gives him all this power? Why is he in charge?

I've spent so much wasted time listening to my sumo. Apparently, he has been in there a long time—way too long. Recently, I was going through old scrapbooks, and I realized that I have never been happy with my body. Even as teenagers running around in bikinis, my girlfriends and I always thought we were fat. I look at old pictures now and think I was nuts. Most of us shmirshkies act like it's
our
job to feel fat
our whole lives. Now when I look at myself in the mirror, I think, “I am FF!” (Fucking Fabulous! Sorry, Mom.)

To top it all off, many of us seem to be experts at not having a good relationship with food. I abused my food terribly. I would grab a huge container of ice cream and scarf it down. When I ate that first scoop or bite of raw cookie dough or that cupcake, it was so yummy! But when I power ate, I was in an abusive relationship with my food. I know it sounds silly, but PM&M helped me to take a look at this dysfunctional relationship in my life. Now I try to treat my food with kindness, like I do my other relationships. No more
mean eating
!

 

shmirshky party alert!

I was curious if everyone had a sumo. Do you remember my friend Patty? She's a stunning, sweet, ex-ballerina, retired entrepreneur, culinary master, multilinguist, and voracious reader (it's important that you understand her extraordinary talents before you read her answer). Her answer sounded pretty familiar. “I was always a perfectionist and most of my life I felt confident that what I was doing was good. As I got older, my sumo got stronger. As fashion and appearance, weight and leg length became bigger issues, my sumo grew in power. As a dancer, my legs were too short and too big; at least, that's what my sumo told me. During PM&M, my looks and behavior began to change and I grew less and less confident in myself. I became more susceptible to sumo influence and much more insecure with everything I did or said. Tread lightly, sumo in session!”

I asked Debbi the same question and she said, “Wrestling down my sumo is a full-time job. Sometimes I win, sometimes my sumo wins.”

 

Often, when I'm battling my sumo, I remind myself of my friend Yvette. Yvette had a very flamboyant, artsy kind of style. You would often see her in top hats, feathers, and large, funky jewelry. We would have lunch at least twice a week and talk on the phone every day. There was never a time that Yvette didn't mention how unhappy she was with her weight and her wrinkles. In my eyes, she was a beautiful shmirshky with passion, boundless energy, and a one-of-a-kind style. I often wished that I could have helped her to see what I saw.

It never happened. Yvette was diagnosed with a very serious and aggressive form of cancer. Toward the end, she could no longer eat a thing. She became so thin and frail; she was wasting away. I thought about all those years Yvette had spent being self-critical. We all do it. Toward the end of her time, Yvette would have given anything to be able to gain weight and get more wrinkled. I remind myself of this often when I'm putting on my makeup and my sumo reappears. Sumo, be gone!

Being aware of your sumo is so helpful because he shows up a lot! Now when my sumo jumps in my face and begins yelling at me, I try to minimize him—I make him smaller in my mind. Over time, he keeps shrinking. He's a tiny sumo now, not nearly as scary. Try living every day SUMO FREE!