Homeland Farm

Homeland Farm

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Gonna be a long winter.....

     
As I walked through the living room this morning, carrying a basket of laundry, it occurred to me it is going to be a very, very long winter. Now you may think it is the thought of snow, or cold, or messy floors. If you have read some of my previous posts, you may even think it is because there will soon be buckets and buckets of horse mash lining my laundry room wall. All of the above reasons are true, but not the reason I had that dismal thought this morning.
       The reason for my pessimism this morning was the fact that the simple act of walking past the pellet stove, set on a minimal ONE setting, carrying the partially filled laundry basket was enough to send me into a steaming, sweat on my brow HOT FLASH.
        Yes sir, at the ripe old age of 51, I am apparently smack dab in the middle of what the older generations used to whisper about in hushed tones..."THE CHANGE." Now, I am not one to be all dramatic, and long for my youth, or whine about the wrinkles and saggy skin on my face and arms.
I don't miss having thick, flowing healthy hair and age spot free skin. Ok, maybe I do a little...
         BUT! I hate..no wait..I HATE HATE HATE hot flashes. They are truly the worst thing ever. Just ask my sweetie, Cliffy. Poor, poor Cliffy. I think I'm suffering, but really, I think he is suffering even more. I have several hot flashes a day, and as it turns out, Cliffy seems to have the misfortune to be in the near vicinity for 75 percent of them.
I was folding these pants during a hot flash
          Now, I can tell when they are about to happen. It feels like my internal organs suddenly burst into flame, with fire and heat spreading upwards until the top of my head explodes into a bonfire. It can happen anywhere, at any time. I unfortunately have many, many hot flashes a day, and it ain't pretty. If they happen in bed, off goes the covers, up goes the window. If that isn't enough, off goes the granny nightgown. I swear, steam rises as the cold air meets the hot air over my head, and I wait for a rumble of thunder. I look over, and there is poor Cliffy, only the top of his head showing as he snuggles closer to the giant dog wedged between us.
         I used to be mad at Annalee for wanting to snuggle in between Cliffy and I, but last time we snuggled close, it set off such a hot flash I was actually mad at Cliffy for suggesting we snuggle. I think it is safe to say, hot flashes are not good for the love life.
         Not that they only happen at night. They certainly can and do happen during the day. They happen at dialysis, and it seems to make the nurses job more of a challenge. When a person has a dialysis treatment, the nurses are trying to remove excess fluid that the body retains because the kidneys can't remove it. One way to tell that there is no more fluid to be removed is when the patient gets sweaty and hot, gets cramps or their blood pressure goes down.
         As I am sitting in the chair having dialysis, and suddenly throw off my blanket (they keep it quite cool in the room where we have the treatment), they come running over to see what is going on. Is it one of my hot flashes, or am I about to start cramping due to lack of fluid. More often then not, they decide it is a flash and let me fan myself with whatever I have handy until it is over. Then, I put on my blanket and am fine. I like to keep those girls on their toes, so I have as many as three flashes in the 4 hours that I am at the center. They love me.
        If you have never had a flash, you can't begin to know what it feels like. It is best described, I think, like it is suddenly 105 degrees and humid, in a matter of seconds. I go from normal to "OMG,  I can't stand this" in 5 short seconds. Now, I am a tolerant person, but hot flashes I can not handle.
I also can not handle clothes, during a flash. Now that is fine, if I am alone, or in the privacy of my boudoir with Cliffy Baby. Sitting at the supper table, I have been known to flash the kids, as I fan myself with my shirt. Driving home from Food City, I think I flashed a Town of Bridgton dump truck driver as I whipped off my shirt heading out of town. They come, and I have to react.
Just looking at this picture gave me a hot flash...
       What causes them, you may ask? Well, I'm not a doctor, nor do I play one on tv. However, I can tell you what I know makes them flare up in my case. One word..everything. Lugging a half filled laundry basket past the pellet stove. Stirring too hard mixing cookies. Yelling upstairs to my chillin'.
Laughing too hard at my own jokes (gets me every time!) Letting the dogs outside. Getting the dogs inside. Walking. Talking. Taking a hot shower. (Ever have a hot flash in the shower? On goes the cold water!) Eating a hot bowl of soup. Drinking a hot cup of coffee. You get the idea.
       Cliffy is cold all the time, so he is the one that suffers most. I tell him..."BRR it is cold Cliffy, how about we start a fire in the kitchen stove". I am wearing a sweater, as I say this. He hauls in wood, and kindling and gets a nice toasty fire going. Five minutes later..."OMG..thats too hot! Why do we need such a hot fire?" I go and change into a tee shirt. He closes the damper down on the stove. I walk back into the kitchen and say.."Brr..why is the stove closed down? It is cold!"..You get the idea.
        So, you can see why I say it is gonna be a long winter. I don't dare ask Cliffy what he thinks. Just a word of warning...If you plan to stop by, HONK when you pull in. Oh, and make sure you take your time coming into the house. I might need time to get my clothes on.
        

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