Over the past several weeks, I have written and discarded several posts about hot flashes.
Like lots of women, I’ve got the hots, but it seems that everything I could say about these ‘special’ experiences has already been said. They’re annoying. They’re uncomfortable. They’re funny. They’re embarrassing. Yada yada yada. On the whole, I don’t have too much to complain about. I’m hot and sweaty for a minute or two. For years.
Yesterday morning I had one of my usual post-shower ‘glows’. I take as cool a shower as I can tolerate, but as soon as I dry off, my body turns its furnace on, and I need another shower.
I opened the window. The master bath has lovely big windows; not those high lone rectangles that you could never squeeze out of if you were escaping from a slasher. Of course, it would be a long hard drop to the patio if you were trying to escape, but my windows are nice and big. I have to get into the bathtub to open two of the windows. But the crucial window (the one near my makeup mirror) is easy to open. The bottom half anyway.
The early morning air was cool and refreshing. I needed that breeze on my forehead.
So I knelt down and put my face to the window.
And I slipped. My chin hit the sill and my nose scraped the screen. But not hard. No damage.
Our bathroom floor isn’t normally slippery. It was slick because my knees were sweaty.
Now there’s a menopausal symptom that’s not quite so boring.