Yesterday when I wrote this entry, I thought perhaps it would be TMI for some readers. After reading it today, and having John read it, I feel differently. I’ve always over-shared and become close to people very quickly so I have no idea why posting this bothered me in the first place. Whatever…read on.
A couple of years ago, I had surgery that resulted in immediate, full-blown menopause. Because of this, I tend to experience flashes of “warmth” from time to time, especially during the night. Depending on my level of “warmth,” I sleep with either:
- layers of a sheet, a blanket, and a quilt
- a sheet and blanket combo
- a sheet
- no covers
Throughout the night, I shift between all four of the above-mentioned options. No matter what is blanketing me at the time, one factor is always constant: the 12-pound cat that is stretched and pressed up against the side of my body. Cosmo’s needy disposition draws him to me like a fuzzy little magnet every evening and he isn’t happy until he is under the covers and happily purring (and sometimes drooling) on my side of the sheet.
The advantage to keeping him beside me all night is that when he is not on the bed, he wanders around the bedroom whining and meowing, begging to be asked to the bed. John and I spend a good five minutes patting the covers, calling him, and stop just short of sending him an embossed invitation. Finally, he jumps up and nudges his way under the covers.
The drawback to having a large, warm, furry body pressed against me all night (no, I’m not talking about my husband), is that during my periods of “warmth,” the hot cat factor raises the discomfort level significantly -- it’s kind of like wearing a wool sweater in the middle of August. The problem is that if I move him, he immediately jumps off the bed and the whining routine starts all over again, now waking up my husband. And if I remove him from the bedroom and close the door, we can look forward to a night of door-pawing and more whining. What to do??
Sometimes I relocate to the sofa because there is no room for Cosmo to squeeze beside me, thus relegating him to the arm of the sofa. Other times I deal with the heat and imagine I am on a tropical island somewhere in the Caribbean. Either way, Cosmo and I continue to flashdance through the night.
If reading about my hot flashes bothered you, oh well…just wait til I write about my annual OB/GYN appointment next month.