One of the fun parts of chemo for breast cancer is that it can throw you into instant menopause.
It’s four o’clock in the morning, and I should be asleep. But I’m sitting in a recliner writing this post and sweating like a marathoner. I am sweating like a laborer in a developing, equatorial country where only the president and his cronies have air conditioning. I am sweating like a pig. (Does anyone know if pigs really sweat?)
I want to strip off all my clothes and run out into the tenth rainstorm that has hit California in the last month.
I want to climb into the freezer with the ice cream, and I don’t even like ice cream that much.
I want to take an ice bath. Does anyone know how to “do” an ice bath?
These feelings hit me about ten times a day.
I go through a lot of t-shirts these days. I wash a lot of sheets.
Whew. It’s still hot in here. Could some please turn down the heat?