A Day in Menopause · A Hormonal Comedy by Nurit Rozenblat
A Word from the Author
So what did we have here?
Twenty-four hours of jolting physical experiences that nobody prepared us for.
Some of us saw them in other women — in Mom, in a friend, in the neighbor from the park bench — and thought it would never happen to us.
Some of us are beginning to understand and learn about these symptoms for the first time, on the move, usually at three in the morning.
So here they are, all of them, in the order they appeared in Dana's day:
Hot flashes and night sweats, which turn the bed into an oven and the pajamas into a project.
A brain that took a break — a glass in the fridge, a phone you're looking for while it's in your hand.
Fatigue that never ends, like a battery stuck at one percent.
Itching and dryness in places you don't scratch in public.
A bloated belly that decides on events of its own, and constipation that joins it uninvited.
Names that refuse to come, even of women you love.
A bladder leak at exactly the funniest moment.
Heart palpitations that set off all the alarms.
Joint aches that tell you how old your knees really are.
Dryness that affects intimacy too.
Irritability that erupts over an innocent question about tea.
Hair that falls out of your head — and appears, politely, on your chin.
Dry eyes that burn, and letters that move away to the end of your arm.
A ringing in the ear that nobody else hears.
And along the way there are still more waiting: a wave of anxiety, a headache, a libido that drops, hands that fall asleep and tingle, and dizziness when you get up at night in the dark.
Twenty symptoms.
One day.
One woman.
And one husband, who survived.
This book was written and made accessible for you, dear women, to explain phenomena that will begin to appear in the lives of many of us — some of them, anyway; not all of them, and not in the same order — and so that no woman will stand in the middle of the night, sweating and confused, and think she is the only one in the world.
She isn't.
And what really matters?
To try to sleep more.
To rest more, without apologizing for it.
To move — walking, movement, whatever the body agrees to.
To eat properly, drink water, and give the body what it quietly asks for before it starts shouting.
Not to suffer in silence.
To ask, to read, to talk with friends, and to go to a doctor when something is new, persistent, or worrying — because not everything is "just menopause," and even what is hormonal deserves attention.
And yes — to laugh.
As much as possible.
Laughter is probably the only symptom in this book that doesn't need treating.
Dana is going back to bed now.
Tomorrow is a new day.
The hormones are already getting ready.
But so is she.
© 2026 Nurit Rozenblat. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed without the author's prior written permission.
