To be honest, I wasn’t expecting HRT to transform me — not really. Despite being 58, I’m strong, fit and full of muscle; my energy and libido had come roaring back in recent months, helped along by the joy of the series of wins in my start‑up and the calm of a peaceful home life. Life finally felt like it was flowing in the direction I want again.
But what made me decide to go on HRT anyway was firstly, getting rid of the cramps and secondly, the deep, foundational things – bone density, long‑term strength, skin and hair quality. I want to protect these in order to be able to keep living with the same fire I feel now.
So, months after beginning this conversation and several consultations later with my lovely doctors, I walked into The Shard Medical Centre in London Bridge.
18th December 2025
I had the Mirena coil fitted and—let’s be honest—it was ouch with a capital O.
Image: Mirena coil (from Wikipedia) but it somehow looked more menacing when attached to a stainless steel medical contraption.
Miss Annette Reid, my wonderfully calm gynaecologist, made it as non-traumatic as any procedure involving speculums, bright lights and dignity‑in‑freefall could ever be. At one point she mentioned, quite cheerfully, that even virgins sometimes have coils fitted to manage severe periods… which was her polite way of saying, “Jacqueline, you are a mother of five, you’ve got this.”
And she was right. I survived. Slightly traumatised, mildly offended, but very much alive.
I was told not to swim or do any exercises for a bit and to come back in six weeks’ time for a check-up to see if that blasted thing had moved around (dear Lord). I was given the Mirena coil’s owners’ manual with space for me to record symptoms.
By the way, the Mirena and I will live closely together for the next 4 years.
I limped out of the hospital and walked straight into a wine bar for a large gin and tonic with a doctor girl pal who told me to suck it up.
One week later
There was bleeding. And there were discharges which my GP, Dr Ludmila Semetilo, didn’t think was infection after a very detailed conversation – not for those of delicate disposition. The discharge smelled, but not fishy. Ugh. And there was more. I started itching on the palms of my hands and soles of my feet. Bloody progesterone.
The urge to shower like 10 times a day to get rid of the odour and the itch had to be resisted. Dr Ludmila asked me to use a gentle moisturiser like E45 cream. Nah, I disobeyed her. I used shea butter to ensure that my skin is moisturised.
But the itch and mild rash still persist.
“Give it a few weeks to settle,” Dr Ludmila said, seemingly unconcerned about my smell and my itches.
30th December 2025
I had an appointment with Dr Ludmila for the oestrogen patches. We had previously decided on this option instead of gel.
“You could possibly have side effects,” she said. “Like nausea, for example. We can half the dose then.”
“No, no, give me the full dose,” I replied. I am hardcore, if nothing else.
She gave me a prescription for 3 months, and that cost me £21 at the pharmacist. Bargain, considering how many magnitudes more I would have to pay if I had opted for fancy bioidentical hormone replacement (that is not available on the NHS or medical insurance).
So, about these patches. Twice a week. Alternate butt cheek each time. Because I swim and do hot yoga/hot pilates on a daily basis, Dr Ludmila cheerfully told me to use a hairdryer to ensure that those patches adhere properly to my skin. So far so good. Touch wood.
1st January 2026
New year’s morning.
“Good morning,” I said to him. “You were a bit rough with me last night. My breasts are sore.”
He looked momentarily nonplussed, then apologised profusely. “Sorry I behaved like schoolboy. I drank too much last night.”
Then later, when I was in the gym, realisation suddenly dawned upon me. It’s the bloody HRT!!!! I had wrongly accused an innocent man! Breast soreness is one of the common side effects. Yet unease filled me, having lost a few friends to breast cancer over the years. I know this soreness is part of the process, not likely to be anything sinister, but my old concerns about HRT returned with vengeance. I darted to the bathroom and checked for lumps. Thankfully there were none, just diffused soreness across both breasts.
I texted my good friend Darren, Founder and CEO of Enbodie.me. “Are those chemicals killing me?” I asked dramatically, or something to that effect. Watch this space.
2nd January 2026
Back in the romantic hotel room at the Old Parsonage. He was looking at me with that inscrutable expression of his. Normally, I would smile and reach out to touch his face when he looks at me like this. But not this morning. We have to get up early and rush back to London because I have a meeting with my start-up’s legal counsel this morning (writing this on the Oxford to Paddington train).
“What?” I asked impatiently.
He (mildly): “Maybe you want to change the plaster.”
He was referring to the Evorel gel patch on my arse. I couldn’t quite see it so I snapped a photo.
EEEEEEEEEWWWWW!
I only stuck this gel patch on less than 2 days ago and it is already looking sooooo yukky. And here’s the bad news: I can’t swap it for a new one for at least another day because dosage is 2 patches a week.
“Maybe I won’t touch you here,” he said – and I can’t quite figure whether he was serious or not. Is it really THAT disgusting?
4th January 2026
My neighbour, who is a senior pharmacist at a UK hospital, popped in. She is into her second year of menopause, and suffers the symptoms, despite having had a hysterectomy (she still has her ovaries). Is she on HRT?
“No,” she replied shortly. She tries natural remedies, including lion’s mane mushrooms for brain fog.
And seeing how bad my itches got last night, I was sooo tempted to give up on HRT and try something else (anything):
I am trying to get her to write something about her discoveries. Drop me an email at jkfab4050@gmail.com to stay in touch.
18th January 2026
Happy 1st month anniversary to me and HRT!
Okaaay. Today is the first month anniversary that me, my Mirena coil and Evorel patches have been living very intimately together. And I am still not sure if this is going to be long-term. Girl pals, who are doctors, a gynaecologist and a pharmacist, all waded into the debate. One (the pharmacist) had left her HRT relationship and has found something better.
I still have the itches, the occasional breast soreness and tingling in my arms and legs (my main concern right now). The voice in me still whispers, “So much synthetic hormones in your body – surely that can’t be good?”
I wrestled with that thought and am still searching for alternatives. As a reminder, I started HRT because I did not want to lose my physical strength (especially my bone density and muscle mass, given the fact that my knees are in a shite state), mental sharpness (important, as I am beginning my new journey as a FemTech CEO) and overall good health (strong teeth, strong hair, etc). Those were my three reasons, nothing else, as when I started on HRT way back in December, I was feeling top of the world, libido raging; I was glowing and excited about life again.
But a month in, I saw a tiny positive. I have never had the best hands, because I am a nail biter and I lift weights. Chewed up nails and prominent veins, but the skin, I noticed, was plumper and smoother. Some slight improvement to the skin on my face too, but that could be due to the Nd:YAG laser facials. I am boxing again, and I hope my reflexes will be back to where they were 10 years ago. I think I’ll stick to HRT.
What does my man think? He shrugged (man of few words) and pointed to the marks left by successive Evorel gel patches on my arse. “Luckily it’s the perfection of your mind I want,” he said, with the teeniest of smiles. And though he is three years older than me, I credit him for keeping me young in my mind and body (read about menopause and sex here), because there are lots of natural stuff out there that are far, far more potent than hormones made in the lab. And I am lucky enough to find that, and peace.
PS
I will still continue my regime of exercises, green smoothies and bone broth with fierce diligence. Maybe that is enough. You can’t go wrong with natural stuff.
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