I just finished an early Saturday morning drive to my daughter’s field hockey practice – called for 7:00 am, which meant leaving the house at 6:45 with a teen who has been getting up at 5:45 all week for the first week of high school. You can imagine how happy she was.
But despite the enlightened advocacy in our community around later school day starts, I was, frankly, less concerned about her early start than my having to drive that early in the midst of the dizzy spell I had woken with.
I’ve had these spells for a while. At first, I thought they were symptomatic of something dreadful, perhaps fatal (I’m from the headache-to-brain tumor in 60 seconds camp, after all.) But as they continued to come with some regularity, and nothing else ever seemed wrong, I have added them to the growing list of hormonal tics my body is facing as I face down … peri-menopause.