For most of my life I lived in the San Juaquin Valley of California, whether it was Central California or Sacramento. That meant 103 degree summers. I bitched about them, but they were pretty much all I knew. Then I moved here, where a hot day was 80 degrees. Last summer I had a horrible time adjusting, I wanted my parents to drive me somewhere just for 1/2 hour where it was hot. They never did. I almost went to a tanning bed, something I have a moral problem with (don’t try and figure it out).
Now, the last few days we’ve been in the middle of one of these heat waves, averaging about 77 degrees and my apt temp has been holding just below 80, I know big deal. For me that should be nothing. But, I’ve been on a huge amount of estrogen, meaning I’ve kinda been going through menopause and the wonderful world of hot flashes. I am so glad I hadn’t thrown out all of my tank tops. Its meant tepid baths, lots of ice water, and well, whining. Luckily, I lower my dosage today so maybe the side effects will subside.
At least it has given me something else to think about other than what ever is growing inside my uterus.