Barbara: It’s true. I am smokin’ hot in bed. Four-alarm. Off the charts. A real sizzler. Too bad my husband sleeps through the whole thing.
Now, I know you know I mean literally hot. Sweaty. Icky. (Although, I will say, I think I’m kinda the other kind of hot too, but that’s for another post … if you’re interested. Or if I’m in the mood.)
Anyway. I’m not yet in menopause or in the “peri” part of it … I don’t think. What do I know? I mean, I don’t have hot flashes or day sweats or any of the other stuff Deb has warned me about (bless her heart and curse her honesty). But lately I wake up night after night just uncomfortably hot. Of course, it probably doesn’t help that I’m under a down duvet that I am loathe to throw off. My inner little kid still likes the coziness and “safety” of a substantial cover over me. And to make matters worse, my dog likes to press himself against my legs, generating even more heat and effectively shutting off the only means of escape I have if I want to throw a leg out into the cool night air. And I don’t think my husband would appreciate me yanking off the covers on his side. I guess I can consider myself lucky that he isn’t a through-the-night-cuddler. Not like a friend of mine who when she went through menopause sweated so profusely every night she drenched the sheets, but who was determined not to disengage from her cuddly and strangely oblivious husband who had a habit of clinging onto her like she was his personal life raft. Even with my mild(er) case of midnight hotness, I can’t imagine it.
So I wake up night after night and blink hotly at the ceiling in abject wonder at my body. Must it always do all the things I have been warned it will do? Must it be so bloody (no innuendo intended) predictable? It really begs the question, would I prefer to be in ignorant bliss—ie, do I want to know nothing of aging and its changes and therefore not second-guess my sudden warmth and simply assume it is the weather, the bed, or my husband? Or do I prefer to be “in the know” and realize that, yeah, I’m hot, but there’s good reason for it and it’s normal and natural and in no way needs to interfere with any other more desirable kind of hotness?
Deb: As Barb’s official MenoYoda, I can say that indeed I have been there. Moons ago now. But I actually purchased pj’s made for menopausal women that absorbed the sweat. They didn’t work as I was too hot to wear them!
I know the old expression goes: “Horses sweat, men perspire, and ladies feel the heat.” But during menopause, I was a Clydesdale with the big old furry feet, and even they were soaked with sweat. So the only consolation I can offer my dear friend is this: When you wake up during the night and your sheets are soaked, just be grateful it ain’t pee.
Barbara: Hallelujah, MenoYoda. Once again, you have shed the light!