You know how on the Internet they’ll have a once-a-year event where everyone who “lurks” on someone’s blog without ever commenting is invited to “de-lurk” and announce their presence to the blogger and to the world?
Well I’m pretty sure that 2007-2008 has been The Season Of Delurking in my body, where every physical issue that was tired of being ignored or avoided decided to show up and demand that I finally deal with it.
So, just ask me how much fun that‘s been (Answer: Not so much). But I have really felt lately that I was starting to see the light at the end of The Illness Tunnel. Until I had the following conversation with my friend, Lynne.
Me: “And I don’t know why, but lately I’ve been having these “episodes” where I just get really hot all of a sudden, and start to sweat.”
Lynne: “Hm, I didn’t know that you were in perimenopause.”
The earth comes to a screeching halt.
Me: “Say what now?”
Lynne: “What you’re describing? Those are hot flashes. You’re having hot flashes.”
Me: “Nuh-UH! Shut UP! And also, la-la-la-la-la, I can’t HEAR you!”
But once the seed was planted, I could no longer remain blissfully ignorant of what was happening to me. Especially later that evening when my husband and I were both seated in our living room watching television. I noticed that, not only was he covered in a blanket, but he had covered every single bit of exposed skin up to his eyes, which unfortunately he needed in order to view the TV. Meanwhile I was seated next to him, engaged in the same amount of physical activity (none whatsoever), dripping with sweat, and my clothes were damp.
Hm, I thought. As much as I do not want to admit it, Lynne might be onto something here with that whole “hot flash” thing.
So I decided to do a little research.
Me (trying to be casual): “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
My husband: “Okay.”
Me: “How do you feel right now? Like, what is your body temperature?”
My husband (with the fervent emotion of someone finally releasing a torrent of pent-up stress): “I’m SO COLD! This house is FREEZING! Haven’t you noticed that I’ve had to start blanketing my face because it’s so cold in here?!”
Me (absolutely dumbfounded): “What are you talking about?! It’s SO HOT! Look, I’m sweating and my clothes are damp. Here, FEEL MY PANTS!”
“Hm,” said my husband, with the look of someone who has just realized that crossing a woman in the throes of a full-blown hot flash is a lot like poking a big black bear with an electric cattle prod, and turned up the speed on the ceiling fan a couple of notches
So I went to the gynecologist, fully prepared to hear that the stress of my year-long illness had thrown my body into premature menopause, only to be told that, “it’s not hormonal.”
(It’s also not my thyroid, because I’ve had that checked. Twice.)
So I still have no idea what’s going on with me. Best guess is that it’s just my body continuing to recover and realign itself. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I could get a job as the sun in a brand new solar system, if I run out of things to do around the house.
That is, if I don’t go super nova first.