|Is it hot in here, or is that just me?
||[Feb. 6th, 2013|02:28 pm]
WAH! Why don’t I feel better? Since about Christmas, I’ve tried to be vigilant about getting enough sleep, eating my daily share of veggies, hitting the Emergen-C. And okay, surrounded by sick people of all kinds and I never got anything. Except for about a week now I’ve had this feeling of incipient illness – headache-y, sinus pressure. Maybe some very low-grade fever and chills, except that when the Hot Flash Fairy is your new best friend, it’s hard to say what the hell is going on, temperature-wise. It’s the exhaustion that’s really making me nuts – no matter how much sleep I get, I want MORE. I want to go to bed at 8pm, take naps in the afternoon, push the alarm clock off just one more hour….
If I thought I was just going to suffer from this for two weeks and then it would gradually fade away, I’d be celebrating that I got off easy. But in true glass-half-empty fashion, I’m petrified that this is just a PRECURSOR, and eventually it will build into something far more impactful and then I will be Mary, Queen of Snots for a FURTHER two weeks, with ANOTHER two weeks of being not fully functioning.
This is why I don’t try to take it easy and take time off. This is what happens. There’s a sudden vacuum of “OMG, I’ll never get this all done”, so my body managed to cripple itself so that even though I’ve now set aside plenty of time to get everything done, to achieve goals AND have time to relax, my inability to work at full-steam means that once again, I’m in “OMG, I’ll never get this all done” despite PLANNING APPROPRIATELY.
Expletive. I really don’t have time for this in my life. Maybe you should re-order your life so that there’s room for stuff like this, you say. Enh, next time I’m on the planet, I’ll consider it. But I don’t want to, this time around. The only thing I’d really like to drop is the M-F job, and that’s unlikely.
But still, losing an hour or more every day to needing to coddle myself and the need to get plenty of sleep/rest, cutting short or cancelling social engagements because I feel like death warmed over, is really starting to piss me off and put me behind. I would totally go all Full Imperial Dragon Rage-y over it, but I want to conserve my energy; I have to go to Costco later.
Yes, yes, I finally got the walls painted in the kitchen, and finally started the trim, but am only a third of the way through at best. Then there’s staining and poly’ing the shelving and kitchen stools. Doing this in one or two hour increments in order to get a good night’s sleep is cramping the plan.
And it’s definitely cramping the hot flash research project. “Keep notes and find out what triggers it” they say. Which I am invested in doing because apparently my hypothalamus is a HUGE estrogen junkie. In my head, it’s Keith Richards careening around a detox cell. On the one hand, the intensity of them is relatively mild, on the other, the frequency is ALL THE TIME. Occasionally I will notice that it’s been a few hours without one and that’s exciting. And at night, they ride in with anxiety and nausea as their squires, which is awesome, and probably explains the recent dreadful dreams. (An improvement on sexual assault, but the last one that I remember was desperately searching this barn/shed for something that Virginia Faire desperately needed. Which doesn’t sound dreadful until you know that it was over 100 degrees in that damn barn and it was full of rat poop, dead rats and rotting raccoon carcasses. Don’t ask me why – I can’t give my subconscious credit for dreaming in alliteration.)
Oh, hey, you know what the signs are of a heart attack for women are? Breaking out in a sweat, nausea, anxiety and feelings of dread. Which is really helping with the sleeplessness, anxiety and dread. One pectoral cramp away from utter panic.
Anyway, so I’m trying to figure out what my hot flash triggers are and here’s what I’ve got:
Standing too close to the kitchen light while painting.
Being hot in general.
The shot of adrenalin you get when some expletivesmack cuts you off on the Beltway, or you remember that you have a presentation to give in 15 minutes and you totally forgot to prepare for it.
Looking for my keys. (I’m usually good about this, but had to take down the key rack while painting and let me tell you, people, I am ADRIFT without it. I will put my keys in the most expletiving stupid places, when I don’t have The Hook.)
Being pissed off.
Being in a hurry.
The sound of a cat vomiting – although that might overlap with some of the above. I don’t have enough data to reliably separate them.
Thinking or writing about hot flashes…hang on, lemme take off my jacket…which is making it difficult to keep a list of the triggers, since that requires THINKING about a hot flash…
In other words, I’d better just get used to it, huh?