NADINE DORRIES: Miracle gel that helps me sleep, puts a twinkle in my eye, keeps my brain sharp and fills me with confidence. Trying to quit was horrific… I’ll take it for life

Like millions of women, I use hormone replacement therapy (HRT) and have vowed to do so until the day I die.

So imagine my surprise when I was ordered to stop taking it for a whole month. I’d been due to have a small medical procedure with a mild anaesthetic and was told that HRT would increase the risk of blood clots.

I’m not going to lie – I was fuming. My HRT lets me do that, by the way. Fume.

The oestrogen gel I slap on my freshly showered body each morning is the elixir of my life. It puts a spring in my step and a twinkle in my eye, if you get my drift.

But my dealer, otherwise known as my general practitioner, confirmed there was no way out. I would have to go ‘cold turkey’.

I first began taking HRT 20 years ago when, in the very month I entered the House of Commons, I was hit with unwelcome pre-menopausal symptoms which included hot flushes, lack of sleep, anxiety and a general draining of confidence.

I’d already worked out that I now lived and functioned in a very different world from anything I’d known before.

At Westminster, I found myself in meetings alongside men with egos the size of an average semi-detached house. They insisted on talking over every woman they met in rooms with windows that didn’t open (for security reasons).

Nadine Dorries first began taking HRT 20 years ago, in the very month she entered the House of Commons. Posed by model

I’d spent my life as a nurse and then, later, running my own childcare consultancy – working mostly with women, of course. Caring, kind women, some of whom are still my friends 50 years later.

My new male-dominated workplace was like another planet and I knew I’d need all the confidence I could muster to cut through.

Westminster was clearly no place for wimps – or women in their late 40s hitting the menopause. Unless, that is, they were pumping hormones daily.

The effect of starting HRT was immediate and long-lasting. Fellow 60-somethings often ask me where I get my energy from, and I always answer honestly.

HRT allowed me to sleep a solid seven hours at night – and still does.

So, I could fire on all six cylinders when I was a minister running a government department, working and travelling long hours. I would never have survived without it.

It amused me to see fellow MPs saunter into the House of Commons Library after lunch and head for the nearest comfy chair.

You could hardly hear yourself think for the snoring – in a room where speaking was banned.

When I got the bad news just a few months ago, I remembered reading a column written in this paper by my younger colleague Sarah Vine.

She described stopping HRT and finding, miraculously, that she suffered no adverse effects.

The effect of starting HRT was immediate and long-lasting. Fellow 60-somethings often ask me where I get my energy from, and I always answer honestly, writes Nadine Dorries

Perhaps that could be me, I thought. What if I’ve been taking HRT all these years but didn’t actually need to?

Could I be the person I was before the menopause, but without taking drugs? One week into being deprived of my HRT drugs, I knew the answer.

That’s when I woke at 2am, then spent the rest of the night drifting in and out of sleep, hearing the church bell ring every hour – as yet unaware that every following night would be just as bad, and worse.

My daughters began to ask me, ‘Are you OK? You seem a bit low.’

They were right – I couldn’t shake it off. I was exhausted. Then, almost unbelievably, the hot flushes returned and I found myself lying in sweat-soaked sheets half the night. I was burning up, as if someone had put an electric fire by my face.

I am 68. Surely this couldn’t be happening?

But happening it was. And when I started drifting into afternoon naps, I knew the truth: I’d emerged from HRT only to fall straight into the arms of old age.

It was far, far worse than I could possibly have imagined.

Fortunately, an end to the torture was in view: with the medical procedure behind me, it took just four days of resuming HRT before I got my first night of unbroken sleep. Now, once again, I have the confidence and determination of a 40-year-old! The twinkle is back in my eye.

I will be on HRT from now on – and if any one dares to try to stop me, they will most definitely come off worst.

I am now officially a drug addict.

• I was desperately sad to hear of the death of the extraordinary author Dame Jilly Cooper. I have never met a sweeter, more humble lady who has achieved so much. I suspect that those of us who write fiction all secretly wanted to be Jilly. To achieve her reach and global success. RIP Jilly. You leave legions of fellow authors behind to whom you will forever be an inspiration.

• It has long been my experience that anti-Semitism runs through the core of socialism and, as a result, through sections of the Labour Party. It didn’t arrive overnight when Jeremy Corbyn became leader. It has always been there, festering. The rise of Corbyn in 2015 merely shone a light on the uglier face of Labour. The sooner this Government is gone, the better.

Victoria, the queen of Paris Fashion Week

The Beckhams in Paris

There was a time when she was rather overshadowed by her footballing husband, but Victoria Beckham has become a huge success as a fashion designer. It says a good deal that her Paris fashion show was graced by no less a figure than Anna Wintour. In fact, the former editor-in-chief of Vogue, sat next to the Beckhams on the front row. 

That’s not something that happens to every designer. This week, Victoria’s journey from pop star to fashion guru will be told in a new three part Netflix documentary. Chapeau, Victoria. You do it in style