Esther McCarthy: 'Menopause doesn’t wait for June — and neither should we'

Esther McCarthy: "HRT can cost between €30 and €70 a month and us women are still footing the bill." Picture: Emily Quinn.

I've said it before and I’ll say it again. Don’t send a man to do a woman’s job. The husband has come back from the chemist with the wrong HRT patch. I have learned the hard way that not all patches are created equal and had specifically gone back to my GP to get a different prescription for the ‘good’ patch.

The one that suits me. The one that doesn’t give me a rash. The one that stays in place and doesn’t peel off mid-meeting migrating to regions unchartered making
getting undressed in the evening a potential biohazard, with the possibility of oestrogen patches flying in all directions and ending up somewhere it shouldn’t — like the dog’s arse — and then we’re wondering why he’s tearing up at the fibre broadband ad and
nesting in the airing cupboard.

It’s not husband’s fault, though. I had a detailed conversation on the phone with the pharmacist to ensure I was given the up-to-date brand.

So I have to traipse back up and sort it out. He sees me coming. The wrath of the hormonally challenged is no joke.

“It’s Brexit’s fault,” he yelps, preempting me. “It’s lack of supply.”

“Go way out of that now, and give me the good stuff, sham,” says I. And he does, to be fair, in two different doses to make up the correct one. “It’s only going to get worse,” he mutters darkly as I clutch my paper bag to my chest.

“When it’s free, more people will be looking for it.”

He’s talking about the mythical, much-promised ‘free HRT’ scheme that was meant to kick in back in January — now maybe arriving June 1.

Budget 2025 set aside €20m, but we’re still coughing up cash for something that helps us function.

Alleviating the financial burden is a noble intention. But so is my son’s promise to pick up the jocks after a shower and I’m still waiting for that to happen too.

HRT can cost between €30 and €70 a month and us women are still footing the bill.

What’s depressing is there are, as my pharmacist said, probably women out there desperately waiting for the scheme to kick in, dealing with all the awful and debilitating symptoms that go with the nose dive of hormones in peri-menopause, because they just can’t afford to pay for it.

They’re just hanging on — foggy, sweaty, aching, sleepless — hoping the system catches up before they unravel.

We were promised support, some of us voting for candidates on that ticket, trusting that finally women’s health might be put somewhere near the top of the agenda.

Instead, we get delay, deflection, and a depressing message: that menopause — and by extension, more than half the population — can be shelved, again.

The delay has been attributed to a lack of preparedness ... GRRR!!! (Sorry if the sound of the gnashing of my teeth is interfering with your read.)

The pharmacists and the Department of Health are busy pointing fingers over implementation gaps and IT systems and blah blah blah.

Just sort it bloody out, OK? I mean, Viagra is available over the counter now. If the men were cursed with this, would there be a simple solution?

Imagine if everyone, not just women, had to navigate some or all of the associated symptoms when they hit a certain stage in their lives. 

I’m telling ya, there’d be drive-thru hormone booths on every corner, gimme a flat white and a Vagifem please, and don’t be stingy with the progesterone, there’s a good chap.

Because you’d have to be crazy to put up with debilitating brain fog, insomnia, crushing anxiety, hot flushes, terrible mood swings, weird aching joints, and horrible dryness and infuriating itch … ooh ... not to mention that pesky side effect of wanting to physically choke the living daylights out of the driver who went in the wrong lane on the roundabout.

I can get all the way around the supermarket doing the big shop, whiling away the time imagining my hands around their directionless little necks, watching the beads of my disenfranchised sweat drip onto their forehead as I sob: “I just want to feel like myself again.”

So, can we trust the news this week that the delayed scheme will come into effect on June 1?

The fact that it is happening without the agreement of the pharmacists’ union makes me dubious.

And the kicker? The scheme won’t be backdated. Another slap in the ovaries. (If we had balls, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.)

So, what’s the plan? Is there anything to be said for another Mass? In the meantime, perhaps the government could hand out vouchers for pocket fans, kickboxing lessons, therapy — and at the very least, protective glass for the put-upon pharmacists.

Just sort it out. Women’s health deserves urgency, investment, and a bit more respect.

Menopause doesn’t wait for June — and neither should we.