I’ve been writing about menopause for a while now.
I think I owe menopausal women an apology and must confess, I am a wuss. I wasn’t getting hot flashes. I was getting warm flashes. You know how I know I was getting warm flashes? Because now I’m getting goddamn hot flashes.
Just at night. You know, the time when we’re supposed to be sleeping and restoring ourselves? I already have insomnia. Now, I have insomnia mixed with sweating, freezing, and burning alive.
Night sweats don’t mean just that I’m hot. I have also been sweating while freezing or just freezing. Of course, I’ve also been hot. Remember Jack Nicholson in the hedge maze at the end of The Shining? I had fantasies about cuddling with him. Only I’d probably reanimate him. Stephen King should jump on this goddamn story line.
Last night when I was sweating while freezing, I came up with an invention. A mobile for menopausal women. We’ll call it a Pik-O-Blanket.
The Pik-O-Blanket (From now on, referred to as POB because typing hyphens annoys me), will be like one of those motorized tie racks that swivel the ties around on a rack. Like the dry cleaners. Only the POB will have blankets raging from fuzzy bags filled with molten lava to silky thin hypothermia inducing blankets. Deluxe models can have built in music and a pill dispenser.
Anyway, the POB will be suspended from the ceiling. We’ll be able to pick the blanket that best accommodates our body temperature at any given time during the night. I am finding that I would probably go through at least 3 dozen different blankets a night.
Also, it would be cool if when we’re extra toasty, we could hit a switch and the POB would turn into a gigantic fan made out of blankets. I’m probably going to have to wait to get mine. I need a bedroom with ceilings about 7 feet taller and 4 times bigger than the one I have now.
Anyway, here’s where I need a shower. Not a shower with water and soap. A shower where people bring me presents.
I think my old lady smell has come in.
We should get showers when that happens. Sure, a shower with soap and water seems like it would make sense. The shower would temporarily get rid of the old lady smell, but no one brings me presents when I take a shower. Which really, is kind of bullshit.
This night sweat/freezing shit is a recent phenomena. It’s been happening about a week. When I got up this morning, the comforter was bunched up around my face and I woke up thinking “Fucking hell, that smells like the popcorn they sell at Target’s snack bar.”
Obviously, that is what my old lady smell is. Target snack bar popcorn.
I mean, I guess it could be worse. It could be olive loaf and cat food.
I think it sucks that all my showers are behind me. We deserve a shower when we get our old lady smell.
The following gifts are appropriate for a crone shower:
- Dark chocolate
- A remote that overrides all the other remotes
- Soft touch mirrors. Think Olan Mills soft touch photos.
- Socks that are warm, but also have little air conditioning units built in to cool off your feet when they get hot.
- Target gift certificates. But not to the snack bar.
I have to say, I really am apprehensive about my near future. What if I’m still being a wussy? I have had women tell me that their night sweats are/were so bad that they would soak through their clothes. I’m not sweating that bad. It’s uncomfortable, sure, but I’m not swimming in sweat or anything.
Is this shit going to get worse? Because damn.
Also, is it tacky to throw a shower for yourself?
This post originally appeared on Rubber Shoes in Hell.
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