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I used to have a weighted blanket that I used to chill at the end of the day.
Except I wasn’t chilling, I was roasting a lot of nights. At some point, I realized I was experiencing peri-menopause, and it wasn’t the blanket that was causing the night sweats.
I spoke to my endocrinologist about it. He was the doctor I saw the most often, and he ordered unnecessary hormone tests that confirmed that I was not menopausal. Which wasn’t even my question. But, men. Alas, they are helpless in the face of a woman in distress and sometimes they do foolish things the woman must then pay for. In this case, literally $300.
That was quite a while ago.
Since then, I’ve sort of gotten used to a shorter menstrual cycle with longer periods, and the night sweats are sporadic, so I only sometimes wake up smelling like a middle school boy’s jock strap.
I haven’t gotten used to the feeling of being unhinged that seems to come with all of that.
I got my weekly round up from NPR’s health news recently, and what do you know, there were two articles in it just for me.
On the off chance that what I’m talking about feels uncomfortably familiar to you (rather than just making you FEEL uncomfortable), I wanted to share the links.
First, there is an article entitled,
Right? I am groaning inwardly.
And this one:
This, too, was disheartening. Sarah Edrie, quoted in the article, says, “As we get older, we get more and more quiet about what’s going on with our bodies and ourselves and our lives. We kind of just, buck up and deal with it.”
Mindfulness was one suggestion for dealing with symptoms – and I’m already on it. I have found as part of my mindfulness practice that considering sensations as just that – sensations – rather than labeling them “cramps,” can help me take a step back and stay curious about what I’m feeling. I’m still learning how to use mindfulness when I’m feeling moody.
Talk about what is going on, they suggest. That way, you won’t get isolated and start to feel you’re the only one experiencing the strange twilight zone of, as one of the articles described it, having PMS all the time.
There was not a lot of practical advice in either article. It was surprising that they wrote the articles at all with so little help or encouragement to offer.
When I was in college, I was in the locker room at the athletic center with several of my friends. We overheard a group of older women talking to one another about the fact that they slept in the nude or did not wear underwear to bed. They talked about it very matter-of-factly, like it was totally normal.
My friends and I were a little scandalized, as I remember, and I was sure I would never do either of those things.
Now those ladies don’t seem so old, nor unreasonable. I think of them from time to time and wonder what other wisdom they might have had to offer.
In perspective, the fact that I survived childbirth seven times and lived to complain about peri-menopause is kind of miraculous. Like my over-active immune system and other first world problems, it’s just a reminder that I’m still alive, groaning along with the rest of the earth in its striving.
If you’re also getting a bit older while still being completely fabulous, as I am, perhaps we can walk this bit together.
In the course of my costuming adventure, I’ve made two linen shifts, which if you’ve ever watched historical dramas, are the thing everyone always wears to bed and throws the rest of their clothes on top of when something bad happens in the middle of the night. They are loose, flowy, and have a drawstring neckline. It so happens that the reason people wore them for pajamas for centuries might not have been just because they didn’t have knits yet. My linen shifts have become a staple of my pajama wardrobe because they are never too hot or too cold. I can’t prove a causal relationship, but I’ve never had night sweats when I’ve worn one of my shifts to bed. I’ve already ordered more handkerchief linen so I can make a couple of short-sleeve or sleeveless versions for summer.
