A Day in Menopause · A Hormonal Comedy by Nurit Rozenblat
Chapter Sixteen: 21:02 — My Head Is Holding an Emergency Meeting
At 21:02 Dana stood in front of the bathroom mirror, toothbrush in hand, and felt it coming.
Pressure behind her eyes.
A stab in her temple.
And then a headache spreading slowly, politely, like a guest who knows he isn't going anywhere.
She put the toothbrush down.
"No. I don't have the strength for you."
For whom? asked the voice.
"For you. For it. For all of you. For anyone planning something in my body tonight."
A headache, the voice diagnosed.
"Brilliant. Do you also have a solution, or only Latin names for phenomena?"
First let's understand. Headaches can change during the transition to menopause. In women who have a tendency to migraine, estrogen fluctuations — especially a sharp drop — are a known trigger. And lack of sleep, stress, dehydration and skipping meals can also ignite pain.
"Lack of sleep — check. Stress — check. Meals — there was one ordered meal, one. Mark everything with a check."
Marked.
"And what about the light? Why does the light in the hallway suddenly look like an interrogation lamp?"
Sensitivity to light can accompany migraine. Sensitivity to noise, too.
"Great. So now the house also has to be dark and quiet. Add that to the renovation list."
Dana turned off the strong bathroom light and stayed with a small light.
Already better.
She went out to the bedroom.
Eyal sat on the bed with the tablet.
"You look pale," he said.
"A headache."
"Big or small?"
"Medium, with ambitions."
He immediately put down the tablet and turned off the main light.
"What are you doing?"
"Dimming the light. From now on I'm speaking in a whisper."
"Eyal, you don't need to whisper."
"You said headache," he whispered.
"Whispering isn't turning off lights. It's just talking quietly."
"I'm practicing both."
Dana lay down on the bed.
"Bring me the cooling pack. From the kit."
"Which kit?"
"My emergency kit. By the bed. A fan, cold water, a cooling pack wrapped in cloth. I prepared it following that night. Since three in the morning I am an organized woman."
Eyal brought the wrapped pack and placed it gently on her forehead.
"How is it?"
"Cold. Good. You see? In the end the hot flashes were good for something. I have equipment."
Dana, the voice remarked, if the pain is new or different from usual, especially strong, or accompanied by fever, neck stiffness, weakness, confusion or a change in vision — you need to be examined urgently. And a headache that is "the worst of my life" and appears suddenly is a reason to seek help immediately.
"Heard. It's not that. This is an ordinary headache with self-confidence."
Good. So for tonight: darkness, quiet, water, and you can also take a painkiller according to the instructions. Just note — very frequent use of painkillers, several times a week over time, can itself cause headaches. If the pains come back often, it's worth writing down when they come and what preceded them, and talking with the doctor about the connection to the cycle and to sleep.
"Write it down. I'm writing everything down today. Beeps, drops, pains. In a month I'll have a medical file thicker than this book."
"Bring me the water from the kit," she said.
Eyal brought the bottle of cold water.
"Wait," she said. "First the ritual."
Dana puts a few grains of salt under her tongue to help with the headache before she drinks water.
"What was that?" asked Eyal.
"My grandmother's. Salt under the tongue, then water. She would have sworn it worked."
It isn't a recognized treatment for a headache, the voice remarked. The water itself — yes; dehydration can ignite a headache. The salt — has no proof behind it.
"Did you hear that, Grandma?" said Dana. "No proof." She drank. "But the water is cold, and the ritual is free."
Eyal sat beside her quietly.
"Do you want me to read you something?" he whispered.
"You're whispering again."
"Sorry," he said in a normal voice, and immediately dropped back to a whisper. "I get confused between the modes."
"Then read in a whisper. From my book. It's on page 112 since yesterday."
"Will the murderer reveal himself in a whisper?"
"If he has to."
Eyal took the book from the nightstand.
Opened it at page 112.
Began reading in a dramatic whisper:
"'He looked at her across the table and said: I know what you did…'"
He stopped.
"What did she do?"
"Read."
"I'm asking for the suspense."
"Eyal, read, or my headache will get reinforcements from your department."
He kept reading.
Dana closed her eyes.
The cold on her forehead, the darkness, and Eyal's whispering voice did their work.
The pain didn't disappear, but it stopped spreading.
It stayed a reasonable size, in its corner, like the rest of today's guests — waiting in line.
"Eyal," she said with her eyes closed.
"Yes?" he whispered.
"You can stop reading."
"Why? I got to the good part."
"Because I'm falling asleep."
He closed the book quietly.
"Very good. Sleep. I'll make sure the house stays dark and quiet."
"And if the ear beeps?"
"I'll beep back. We'll hold a duel."
It was 21:26.
Dana discovered that a headache, too, at fifty-one, needs the treatment of a tired child: darkness, quiet, cold on the forehead, and someone who speaks in a whisper.
Eyal discovered that whispering a thriller is harder than reading it.
Mainly because the murderer is revealed in the next chapter.
And he still doesn't know who it is.
End of Chapter Sixteen.
Continued in Chapter Seventeen: 21:38 — It's Not You. It's Just Not Tonight.
© 2026 Nurit Rozenblat. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed without the author's prior written permission.
