Friday, November 13, 2015

One Hot Mama

Dear Doc recently started me on a small dose of plant-based estrogen.

I started taking it because I was sick to death of sweating buckets at the drop of a hat, and having the same argument over the thermostat night after night. If it isn't 72 degrees or lower with AC set to ON, I might as well be in a hot bath.

Because, appealing as it sounds, that's how I look when I'm sitting in the recliner.

I love yoga, but I ended up getting sick to my stomach every time I did it. First I would get cherry-red cheeks, and then I'd start sweating so much I'd have to have a towel within reach. Finally, my lunch would end up reappearing.
It was not a pleasant sight. So I stopped the yoga.

At work, I have a similar problem. I could swear the building temperature goes up by ten degrees every afternoon. I have a fan in my office that is in constant use, even in winter. I tell people I keep it on for the sound, but that's a lie.

My family knows the air conditioning must go on before I get home from work. If the temperature gauge in the living room does not read below 72 degrees, I am not pleasant to be around.

(Not that I am under perfectly normal conditions, anyway.)

Even if the temp is set to below 72 degrees, whenever I get to the table for dinner I become a hot, sweaty mess. The Girl, The Boy, and Hubster complain about the icicles hanging from their noses, while I glow with uncooled heat.

I am my own little furnace.

My personal summer seems to last all day long, until I go to bed at night. At that point, I have to have double the covers Hubster uses. Of course, I keep them on only long enough to kick them off in my sleep.

While we were in Hawaii, it was 90 degrees and above every day. I wore this around my neck almost constantly:

It was a lifesaver. Not to mention it was handy for brow-mopping when needed.

Dear Doc says to give it a couple of weeks to see if the pills help. 

If they don't, I am considering a career change - to lifeguard.

No comments: