Don’t get all excited from the banner picture – I’m not pregnant, thank goodness. I bought a bottle of prenatal vitamins because one of my friends at work said that’s what her doctor recommended when she was having hot flashes and they helped her.
That’s right. I’m going to talk about being perimenopausal. Feel free to stop reading, Sam.
For the past…… three? four? years the ‘change of life’ has been coming on slowly. Processes are grinding to a halt, and apparently the rusty gears are burning up the engine.
Holy cow. When it’s bad, it’s bad. Lloyd and I were driving home from Lincoln today and the air conditioner conked out. It was 95 degrees in the car, and I was still more comfortable than I was in church this morning. (I almost had to disrobe during the sermon.)
Here’s the best I can describe it. Most of the hour I am fine.
Within seconds, heat floods in.
And then, I am filled with fire.
There are levels of this. Sometimes it’s just a mild hot, like I’ve exercised. (Or what I imagine exercising would be like.) Other times, it is enough to cause a sheen of sweat all over. So! HOT!
I’ve been using my point-and-shoot thermometer and my skin temp goes up about three degrees. That thing must be broken, because I’m sure I’ve hit the boiling point.
Then, it’s over. And I’m cold.
I understand that this could go on another five or ten years.
Awesome.