When my wife first told me that she thought she might be perimenopausal I was shocked and confused. I demanded to know who the hell this Perry character was and why Bridget was self-identifying as him. It was only when she explained that the perimenopause referred to the time during which women’s bodies make the transition to menopause that my shock turned to relief.
I had noticed that my wife had recently been even more irritated and impatient with me than usual. I had assumed this was because I had become even more irritating and annoying — that had been her explanation — but now I could happily blame it on something other than my own failings. I would be lying, however, if I claimed I only felt relief. I have always associated the menopause with middle-aged women, but in my mind Bridget is forever the young woman I met on a train in the summer of 2008. It can be a little jolting to be reminded of the march of time but just as I have learnt to become familiar with blood pressure readings, cholesterol levels and glucose numbers my wife is starting to have to think about the menopause.
The conversation in our home about the menopause echoes a larger national conversation — there have been documentaries from Davina McCall, books by Mariella Frostrup and power serums (I have no idea) from Naomi Watts. This week deputy Labour leader Angela Rayner announced that the party would require large firms to publish and implement menopause action plans if it wins the next general election.
The fact that we are discussing the menopause is a useful reminder that whoever came up with the saying “age is just a number” was an idiot. Age is many things — it is wisdom and experiences, memories and aches — and it is more than just a number. The line — or perhaps lie — that age is just a number is often trotted out to explain why a man (it is usually a man) is dating someone decades younger. Which brings me to Leonardo DiCaprio, who was photographed last week leaving a London restaurant at 4am with a 21-year-old model. DiCaprio is 49 and, while it might seem perverse to say it, I feel sorry for him. There was a time when I might have envied his ability to date an endless rank of hot young women but now it strikes me as sad.
Imagine going to see a film and walking out after 20 minutes. Or closing it after the first couple of chapters. Imagine never moving beyond the first act or the opening chapters. DiCaprio’s love life must feel like that: a horror romcom Groundhog Day.
When I first met Bridget we were young and life felt like an adventure. Our days of youth are in the rear-view mirror, and with young children, ageing parents and financial worries life can often feel challenging but there is something rewarding about being with someone for the long haul. And so, after the shock, confusion and relief, my overriding emotion when I thought about Bridget contemplating the perimenopause was of gratitude — it meant I was with her for the journey, wherever it led.
Rod Stewart’s generous spirit
I’m still processing the news that Sir Rod Stewart paid for a day’s worth of MRI scans for patients at his NHS hospital. He said he wanted to prove “I’m not all mouth and trousers” and his generosity reminds us that not all heroes wear capes: some wear leopard-print leggings and Spandex.
Sir Rod has said he didn’t want the gesture to be a one-off and that if it was a success he might like to do it across the country, raising the possibility that patients undergoing open heart surgery could regain consciousness and find Sir Rod belting out The First Cut Is The Deepest.
While I applaud Sir Rod, his actions made me nostalgic for the days when we could trust the Government to fund the health service and we could leave Sir Rod to do what he did best — date leggy blondes and make questionable fashion decisions.
