This man of mine just doesn't get it.
As we were looking at clothes yesterday, he pointed out a manequin dressed in a beautiful red turtle neck sweater, topped with a white, wooly, sweater vest. "That would look good on you," he says. "Are you crazy!?!" says I.
I blame my breast cancer on the harmones that I took for 6 months - and they didn't even help. My advice is don't take harmones to ease the nasty ol' effects of hot flashes. It isn't worth it.
I've also tried to ease things with:
Vitamins A, B, C, D, and E. I kid you not. An alphabet worth of vitamins.
Some sort of ....wart I believe (remember this has been going on for a year or two, or 10 or 20)
There are a ton of other things I've tried. N.O.T.H.I.N.G works.
Everyone should be an expert at something. I'm an expert at layering clothing. First a tank, then short sleeve tee, followed by a long sleeve shirt or blouse, and then a jacket. Yes, I said a jacket - even in summer. The is mandatory when eating out. Invariably the restaurant is cool to the temperature of a meat locker. Initially the jacket feels good. Then as the walls close in, the flashes start, and clothing starts flying. This is followed by chills as the cold and clammy skin connects. Where's my jacket?!?
Night times are always interesting. These cool nights are perfect for crawling under a nice, warm, quilt. Then a flash hits. Jim hangs on to his side of the bed covers as I start wildly kicking. Then it passes and I am shivering in my damp jammies, with my head on a hot pillow. Double yuck.
When I worked full time, all of my co-workers knew if I quickly disappeared from a meeting, it had nothing to do with anything other than I was ready to explode from the inside out.
After I slugged Jim for being insensitive by suggesting clothing I couldn't possibly wear, we purchased a sensibly cool top and blouse and headed out, laughing at visions of me coming out of that sweater and vest at the most inappropriate of times. He reminded me of the day my mother was standing in her driveway telling us goodby and a bumble bee flew down the front of her top. She came out of that shirt faster than Whiskey being chased by Bailey. Like mother like daughter... On second thought, maybe he does get it