These hot flushes are becoming outrageous. Actually outrageous. In fact, their ability to interrupt my life is ridiculous. I am currently sleeping, correction, trying to sleep, in a room with an open window when it is 2 degrees outside and there is an electric fan directed at my person and still I awake with moist crevices. And it is literally, every crevice.
I wanted for myself, a 12 hour sleep tonight, but what has actually happened, is that I have just woken up for the seventh time, with a sweaty crown, wondering whether it is possible to fry an egg on my arm. It would appear that I am constantly thinking about whether it is possible to fry an egg on my arm. Hooray for hot flushes. You have come thirty years early. Thanks.
The Medically Trained People do not know why I am having these hot flushes. As they have got progressively worse over the last fortnight, I definitely complained about it this week, despite knowing that complaining about it could have caused a delay in my treatment. It is bothering me that much. They don’t know what it is, whether it is a side effect of my current treatment or the fake menopause or both. They have done tests. Frankly, I do not care, I would just like to go through the night and not wake up in the morning smelling like an Orangina and onion mix.
A girl doesn’t need much.
What I found so great about the hot flush is that in the grand scheme of things, and I know the scheme, it is a relatively minor side effect, that has an amazing ability to disrupt my life with the greatest of ease. The flushes have even started to sneak up on me during the day, which is less than ideal when one is wearing a wig and trying to look attractive. I know I am hot, but really, the rosy cheeks and sweaty sheen is too much. Too much to bear. I can feel the nights of interrupted sleep start to take their toll, I can feel an ever so slight hint of grumpiness… See?
So, anonymous Facebook friend, always complaining (whinging) about minor medical ailments, and again I see this evening. I will take your cough and ‘pulled muscles’ or whatever it is today, and raise you a tenner. Myeloma trumps everything. Even if it is just a hot flush.
Sleep, sleep, I want to go to sleep. I just really, really, really, really, want to sleep, and I guess, wake up dry.
A Smoking Hot, EJB x