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Mother Menopause took up early residence 6 years ago due to surgery and she doesn’t seem to be leaving the premises anytime soon. I’m not talking mood swings so much as I am the sweats – although I will admit some mornings Jim asks with caution, “Which wife do I get today?” poor guy.
It begins in the morning after that first cup of coffee. I usually dress accordingly. Flannel pajamas have been replaced with shorts, the fuzzy robe has been exchanged for a light one, and the cozy slippers stay in the closet. I sit on the couch trying to enjoy my morning brew, a throw blanket rests on my ice cold feet, ready to be tossed aside as soon as the downward spiral begins.
Jim usually walks in at about the same time as the blanket tossing, the removal of the light robe, and the trading of seats for a cooler one that doesn’t feel like an electric blanket set on the number 1,265. His giggle is quickly covered with a cough as I fidget and fan myself, trying to think cold thoughts such as running outside in the snow in my bathing suit or sticking my entire body in a freezer.
Every day I pray I won’t hot flash while using the hair dryer following the shower. Usually the furnace kicks on then, emitting heat from the ceiling vent, and I’m a goner. Nothing beats feeling like you just wasted a whole hour of your time getting ready only to be perspiring through your clothes.
And then there’s the uncomfortable moment when a crowded room becomes too warm, someone stands too close, and you feel your face turning beet red. You wish you could just sail away on an imaginary glacier and become an ice princess for the rest of your life.
Last week we attended a funeral home to pay our respects to a dear lady who attended our church. It was a cold, blustery night, the steady rainfall changing to giant, quarter sized snowflakes as we drove the distance.
Layers are my best friend these days, being in such a condition of continual “hotness”, so I wore a coat, a decorative lightweight scarf, sweater, and shirt underneath. I immediately removed the coat upon entering the building – the only reason I wore a coat was so I wouldn’t get wet, not because I was cold. As I readied to sign the book, a lady in line behind Jim and I very discreetly said, “You have a tag sticking out from your sweater underneath your scarf – he’ll not tell you that, but I’ll tuck it in for you”, and thus she did. I turned around, looked at Jim, and smacked him, much to the amusement of said lady. “Hey, I didn’t even see it!” His uncomprehending maleness replied as the lady behind us snickered. “That’s your JOB.” I responded. Ok, so that was a mood swing.
We visited with several fellow church members, perched on benches in close proximity to one another. Things were going well until an acquaintance of our friends on the inside of our row chose to lean over Jim to greet them. I had my back turned, talking to the two ladies behind me, when suddenly I realized I was hot. They (both older than me) proceeded to say that they didn’t get hot flashes this time of year, and I informed them of my coffee demise every morning. During the discussion, I felt a flush creep up my neck. I turned and realized the friendly acquaintance was now leaning across me, Jim having escaped the bench. I glanced at my girlfriend on the receiving end of the conversation, a twinkle in her eye and a chuckle on her lips at my realization of being hovered over by an unknown stranger as well as my husband having deserted me.
I turned back to my two friends, attempting to change the subject, when I realized the situation was about to turn ugly. “Ok, this has to come off now”, I exclaimed, jerking the scarf from around my creeping red neck. The ladies giggled, I jumped up and exclaimed to my twinkle eyed girlfriend, “I have to get out of here RIGHT NOW, I’m hot flashing” (upon which announcement she burst into a huge guffaw), turned to the startled, hovering acquaintance, excused myself, and escaped to catch a few gulps of unshared air across the isle. My “friends” shared a great deal of amusement at my expense.
I’d like to be able to say that’s the only time I embarrassed myself over hot flashing, but it’s happened too many times to count. I’m told this too shall pass – until then, I’ll keep dressing in layers, downing ice water, and thinking cold thoughts. All due to the transition from the once a month visits from Aunt Martha. And if you’re a man and you’re reading this post, I’m not sorry – because you need to know about these things. I’m sure you have a sister, a mother, an aunt, or a wife who deserves a little slack. Just smile and nod, tell her she’s right, and for goodness sakes, bring her a glass of ice water.
You’ll both be thankful later!!!
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