Why I'm A Red Hot Mama

I'm a hottie. Not because of looks or personality, but because I am apparently entering the early stages of menopause with raging hot flashes. Not even 40 and going up in flames. Lovely.

Most of the flashes occur at night. I'll be sleeping peacefully only to awake wondering who set the bed on fire. Drenched in sweat, I fling the covers (and usually a cat) off me, using the sheet to fan myself while I turn my pillow over, looking for a dry spot. When the hot flash passes, I'm left shivering and burrow back under the covers. This occurs approximately 2-6 times/night.

The hot flashes have recently moved into daytime hours, which is a real treat. I was at a birthday party last night and at one point, with no warning, was concerned I might spontaneously combust. The feeling passed within a minute or two but yowza--middle age is not for the faint of heart.

I've actually got a book on menopause somewhere in the house. It was being flaunted by Oprah years ago and I bought it to get an early heads up, but got bored early on because nothing applied to me. Guess what? Time for a closer re-read.

Meanwhile, I may start traveling with a fire extinguisher in my purse. Red. Hot. Mama. Please... make it stop?