Sweaty Betty here again, after another night of sweating and shivering, I am back at my desk (right now its coffee time). Coffee…now there’s a thing, the dilemma is to drink it or not to drink it?
Due to lack of sleep doing my Karate Kid impression, (duvet on….duvet off…duvet on…..), I now resemble a 90 year old woman who has just come out of a coma…bloodshot eyes, the speed of a snail and as much work as a sick note in this frazzled body. So, caffeine should perk me up a bit, well you would think so…wouldn’t you?
So I drink 2 cups one after another, within 20 minutes and I eat a BLT roll for lunch. Within 3 minutes of the second cup I am sweating like a furnace, whilst shivering at the same time. My head is experiencing the ‘buzz’ of a 1,000 Bees and my mouth will not produce anything coherent. I have heartburn from the bread, a raging thirst from the salty bacon and I am sneezing from the copious amounts of pepper under the lettuce.
According to the BBC website, I should eat more soya milk and soya flour, linseeds, tofu, pumpkins seeds, sesame seeds, sunflower seeds. Stop eating foods that are likely to trigger or worsen hot flushes and night sweats. For instance, avoid stimulants such as tea, coffee, alcohol and chocolate, especially at night – they’re notorious for setting off hot flushes. Oh yeah, so I feel like shit, I look like shit and now I have to live on water and bloody bird seed! When will it all end? Symptoms listed in various place read like a recipe for suicidal tendencies! See extensive list below
Hot flashes, flushes, night sweats and/or cold flashes, clammy feeling
Irregular heart beat
Mood swings, sudden tears
Trouble sleeping through the night
Irregular periods; shorter, lighter periods; heavier periods, flooding; phantom periods, shorter cycles, longer cycles
Loss of libido
Anxiety, feeling ill at ease
Feelings of dread, apprehension, doom
Difficulty concentrating, disorientation, mental confusion
Disturbing memory lapses
Incontinence, especially upon sneezing, laughing; urge incontinence
Itchy, crawly skin
Aching, sore joints, muscles and tendons
Increased tension in muscles
Headache change: increase or decrease
Gastrointestinal distress, indigestion, flatulence, gas pain, nausea
Sudden bouts of bloat
Exacerbation of existing conditions
Increase in allergies
Hair loss or thinning, head, pubic, or whole body; increase in facial hair
Dizziness, light-headedness, episodes of loss of balance
Changes in body odor
Electric shock sensation under the skin and in the head
Tingling in the extremities
Gum problems, increased bleeding
Burning tongue, burning roof of mouth, bad taste in mouth, change in breath odour
Osteoporosis (after several years)
Changes in fingernails: softer, crack or break easier
Tinnitus: ringing in ears, bells, ‘whooshing,’ buzzing etc.
OMG is there any point in going on? Look here ladies, the only thing that keeps me sane at the moment, is the thought that there are plenty of other people in the cemetery that would love to be putting up with this and if I’m going to get all these symptoms anyway, pass me the wine bottle, give me chocolate and order me another cup of Espresso! ……Granny
What do people get out of being permanently miserable? Why do some people try really hard to make everyone else’s life miserable? Isn’t life hard enough without using all your excess energy to be a grumpy, sour faced, sad specimen of mankind? If you recognise yourself in this mini rant…..remember…you reap what you sow….end of rant …… Granny
As readers of this blog will be aware, I am going through the madness that is menopause. “Nothing wrong with that, perfectly normal”, I hear you say. Well let me tell you right now…normal it is not! To give future sufferers the head up, I have devised a series of helpful hints that go something like this.
Do not drink coffee or any other caffeine based beverage. If you do you will turn into an overheated, clammy, sweaty Betty. The affect makes you feel as though you were suffering from pneumonia as your temperature goes through the roof and your face, neck and even your ears go scarlet. This surge lasts for between 10 and 25 minutes and people think you are about to faint. Avoid caffeine like the plague.
I have taken, Evening Primrose, MenoPace®, Soy, Sage, Black Cohosh..you name it, I’ve swallowed it but to no avail. I have also tried avoiding coffee, tea,wine,spirits, curry, chilli and umpteen other foods and drinks. Still no end to the heat wave!
When dressing for work your will need. A sleeveless top, a top with sleeves, a waistcoat, a cardigan or jumper and a jacket or coat. These layers you must inter-change throughout the day to accommodate temperature fluctuations. Oh and don’t wear anything with a collar as this causes more temperature changes. You must take all of these items every day and I suggest you have spares for when the sweating gets out of hand.
Write things down, otherwise you will forget where you live, your name and as for PIN numbers…don’t even go there. I suggest you put them in your phone as telephone number. Don’t lose your phone; it has all your PIN numbers in it. Do save them to sim otherwise when you change your handset…you lose all your PIN numbers…yes PIN numbers are a problem to menopausal women as are passwords for all of the reasons stated previously.
When shopping, write a list otherwise you will get home with all the stuff you don’t need and forget all the stuff you do need, like salt…there is no substitute for salt and if I forget it once, I will forget it for weeks resulting in bland, tasteless food and complaints from the family.
Do not open your mouth to speak until you are completely confident that you have engaged your brain. Even your mouth gets menopausal moods and sometimes it does not work properly resulting word substitution. This is ok until you say ejaculate instead of evacuate, sex instead of text and cocking instead of cooking!
This list of issues is by no means exhaustive and if you have any other examples please let me know by commenting at the end of this blog so that I can watch out for them when inevitably they happen to me!
This is where the ‘Fan Club’ in the title comes in. Before going to bed I take a tepid shower. I have used lavender oil to help me sleep (it doesn’t) and tried to stick to a routine. I joined the gym, I avoid eating heavy meals late at night but still the hours I spend ‘trying’ to sleep go like this.
I use cotton sheets; I wear cotton night clothes (or nothing at all depending on my temperature when I hit the sack).
I have my pillows at just the right height, too high causes a crick in your neck, too low and I can’t breathe. I don’t use a top sheet, I turn over so frequently that I end up wrapped up like a toffee within an hour. Lightweight duvet, with cotton covers (all natural fibres as the advice suggests). I take water to bed but I am convinced that even that sets me off!
I have an oscillating fan about 2 feet from the bed, which is left on all night, this results in keeping me cool for so long…then after I have sweated to inferno point, I get cold because I have now got a gale force wind pointing at my body and have to wrap myself up in the duvet for around 20 minutes or until the next flush starts.
This cycle goes on all night. Last night (hence why I am writing this) I made a mark on a piece of paper each time I had a flush, then a chill…total in 6 hours and 45 minutes, 23 times….and I wonder why I’m knackered all the time.
I am told that the menopause can last up to 10 years! FFS tell me it isn’t true! In another life I am definitely coming back as a man….I’m off now….flush number 13 for today imminent….Granny
Just thought I’d have a little RANT about the “help” that people get when they’re unemployed. So when you’re sitting comfortably I’ll begin.
Coming from a family with a strong work ethic and as a descendant of generations of Welsh miners, with a pre-programmed desire to be employed for as long as I possibly can, I find it hard to take the astronomical unemployment figures that we have in this country. No shock there then, but in recent weeks I have had cause (albeit indirectly) to have dealings with the people who deal with the unemployed, various agencies including Jobcentres, Bond Boards, Borough Council Housing Departments and so on….the treatment that is forced upon some of the most vulnerable people in the land is absolutely appalling and often beyond comprehension.
The case in question is a member of my family, who for the sake of this blog we shall call Steve. Steve has been unemployed for the most part of his adult life and admittedly in his younger days was quite adept at getting himself sacked for stupid pranks, like driving as forklift when he wasn’t qualified and being in the town centre checking his bank account, when he should have been hosing down a factory floor. Stupid I know but hardly crimes of the century.
In recent years he has taken odd jobs where he would work for an agency for three weeks, only to be laid off at the end and then have to wait 6 weeks for his money to be sorted out again, (yes they have his details from three weeks ago but “that’s how long the system takes”).
He then did some voluntary work, the company promised him and 6 others that at the end of the 3 weeks they would all be given jobs….needless to say none of them did and yes…it took another 6 weeks to reinstate his Job seekers allowance (JSA) – do you see a pattern emerging here?
Steve has very low basic skills ability and no qualifications, he hated school and would bunk off at every opportunity and you could say that he never really helped himself. Now he’s all grown up no-one wants to help him either. If he was aged between 16 &25 there is quite a lot of help available but he is 26 and not classed as NEET ( Not in Education, Employment or Training)…past his sell by date then?
The latest ploy to reduce the unemployment figures is called A4E – AKA – Action for Employment. So far, Steve has had to make three trips to another valley, bus fare = £3.80 per time and he attends for 2 whole hours twice a week.
He has been to Working Links, Job Match and umpteen other schemes all of which help him to write a CV, (he now has 6 CVs all saying the same thing), interview techniques, he has done 4 times to date and the only interview he has had in the last 4 years has been for Asda Aces, even though we have sent off lots of letters to companies (who don’t even bother to answer). Apparently he can’t work as an Asda Ace as he has no special needs or disabilities?
To add insult to injury, Steve was recently made homeless by his girlfriend (she chucked him out), so I have helped him to set up his own flat, a bit of independence would be good I thought.
Steve is in receipt of £120 per fortnight JSA, so we contacted the council and put his name on a list for affordable housing. The response …”He is not classed as homeless and therefore has ‘no points’ so look for a private dwelling and ask the Bond Board to sort out a bond”. No such luck, so I paid £150 admin fee and £320 advanced rent for him to be able to get the flat because at least the housing benefit will cover the rent….WRONG! They will only cover £65 of the £80 per week and therefore out of the JSA he has to pay £15 per week shortfall. He is now down to £90 per fortnight.
At the moment I am paying the shortfall on a flat with no furniture for Steve who cannot move in until he has the means to cook etc., he is down to £90 per fortnight and still hasn’t paid for any electric, gas, food, clothing …..Oh and I am guarantor……….Happy F$*&KING Days
He does not qualify for any kind of social fund loan or grant and therefore we have to get all the family to chip in for 2nd hand furniture, I have no problem with that but how do some people get thousands of pounds in help? Oh yes….they have babies (I don’t think he can have a baby, so therefore he can’t have help).
Next step, ring the power supplier to put the electricity and gas on his name….oh and we want pre-pay metres so that he doesn’t get into strife with the bills….. “OK Madam that will be £60 for each metre!”…..”But he’s on JSA…£120 per fortnight… “OK we’ll put them in and charge him extra each time he tops up his key” … “oh and by the way if he loses his key, there is a charge to replace it!” I’m losing my rag now and slam the phone down AARGGHHHHHHHHH
Where next then? Maybe the Government could give me some guidance….I won’t hold my breath and neither will Steve…………………Granny
As Barry arrived at North Street School gates he hesitated, what should he do? He could turn right around and go home..not a good idea as the dragon would be there, breathing enough fire to cause state of emergency in town! He could slope off and head down to the old quarry until it was home time…he could….”BEECH! YOU’RE LATE….MY OFFICE NOW!” He was startled by the booming voice from the school entrance. Mrs Monkley had caught him again and this time she looked as though she meant business.
Barry turned around and walked toward the reception door, head down and dragging his feet, when will someone ever give me a chance he thought to himself…”I never intend to get into trouble it just happens. It always just happens”
Maybe she didn’t know it was him who had kicked the can through the car window, maybe she would just get him to sign the late book and send him on his way to return for detention lunch time? Pigs might fly, she never missed a trick…he was in for an ear bashing this time! “Would you care to explain why you are late for the second time this week?” He opened his mouth to speak but before he could…”we know very well why…don’t we Beech? You almost killed me with your Coca Cola Can and you almost wrecked my car with your stupid antics!” when will you ever wake up to the fact that you were born stupid, you are stupid and you always will be stupid…she spat out every ‘S’ like Cobra venom!
He knew at that moment that it was no use trying to explain, he looked at Mrs Monkley’s face, screwed up and tortured she looked at that moment, as if she was trying to look as scary and as mean as she possibly could, to maximise the impact on poor Barry who was now squirming uncomfortably in the seat. She was always ugly, with her scraped back hair, glasses perched menacingly on the end of her nose and a mouth that was permanently down-turned but this morning she was like a cross between a Bulldog and a Hyena…frothing at the mouth and cackling like a madwoman mid-sentence, what chance did he have against such a monster…he gritted his teeth and took the scolding like he always did, with quiet acceptance, although he did allow himself a long slow sigh of resignation. such is my life he thought…I’m doomed to be a failure!
He left the office and went to assembly, he perched himself on a chair right at the back and tried to blend in and not draw attention to the fact that he was late …again. The teacher delivering the assembly droned on and on about the rules and regulations of the school and what the consequences would be if you disobeyed them. Barry knew the consequences…probably better than any other pupil. “ I hate this school”..he whispered under his breath. I wish I was somewhere else, somewhere far away…..he began to daydream again, this is something he tended to do when he was feeling unhappy…I wish I knew where my Dad was, or even who he was, or where he is…right now!
The bell sounded for the start of lessons and Barry got up to leave the assembly hall. As he walked in line with a hundred other people to C block, he passed the open door, the sun streamed into the corridor and before he knew it, Barry had slipped out of the line of robotic people, out into the yard and through the gate….freedom he thought as the warm sun bathed his skinny body. I’m never going back to school, I’m going to find my Dad, I know he’s out there somewhere.
Before setting off on his adventure though, Barry had to sneak home and get his things without the dragon suspecting anything. Maybe she’ll be out shopping and he would be able to get in and out before she got back.
He arrived in the back lane behind his house, stuck his foot in the little hole in the wall and hauled himself up. He could just see the fire breathing dragon sitting by the kitchen table doing the crossword. He glanced up and noticed that he had left his bedroom window open. “What a stroke of luck” all he needed to do was shin up the washing line pole, crawl across the utility room roof and he would be in and out before anyone noticed him. He started to climb up the pole, stopping as he neared the top of the wall to check that he hadn’t been seen. She was still writing on the newspaper. He hauled his body up onto the roof and crawled like a sniper, on his belly to the window sill…”careful now..no noise..” he said under his breath. Head first now, over the window frame and onto the inside sill on his hands. He was stuck, his belt was hooked over the little catch, he fiddled and puffed and panted until finally he was free and inside the bedroom…he sat quietly, holding his breath and listening to see if there was any sign of movement from downstairs, then slowly…the bedroom door began to open…rumbled he thought..but it was just the cat and he signalled to her to ssshhhh as she miaowed for attention……”puss…Puss, come on darling, come to Mummy” his mother called the cat and off she went running down the stairs in search of attention… “Phew” thought Barry “That was close”.
He found his old ruck sack, stuffed in a jacket, a spare tee shirt and trousers, two pairs of boxers and £12.63p from his money box. In the outer pocket he put a torch, a pen knife and half a packet of biscuits he had smuggled to his room last Thursday. Quietly he pushed the bag onto the roof and went back out the same way he had got in. As he shinned down the pole and back into the lane, he breathed a sigh of relief as he made his escape around the corner. Let the adventure begin he thought, this is the first day of the rest of my life and he whistled happily as he walked out of his village. …to be continued…..
Barry could not understand why people didn’t like him? Even his own Mother didn’t like him! After all, who would be so cruel as to name their only son after a South Wales seaside town? Thank fully his Mother wasn’t born in Ystrad Gynlais, what would she have called him then?
He moved his Rice Krispies around the bowl until they snapped and crackled their last pop and waited for the regular morning ritual. He sat, waiting, he knew it was coming, it always did, in fact he almost enjoyed it. In fact he could have avoided his Mothers daily scolding quite easily by just getting up, getting dressed and going off to school before she had crawled from under the duvet, but that would be too easy. He was thirteen now and wanted to cause as much hassle as possible, isn’t that what teenagers are supposed to do?
Yes, thirteen…last Saturday when he had gone to bed he was twelve but by Sunday morning he had turned into the spottiest teenager you ever saw! He caught his reflection in the mirror on the dining room wall…zits…everywhere, his face looked like a pepperoni pizza, there wasn’t even space to fit in one of his soggy Rice Krispies.
Upstairs he could hear the toilet flush…then the water running in the hand basin and he knew that in roughly 35.5 seconds the fire breathing dragon would come stamping down the stairs like a rampant bull elephant to start his day off with a rollicking, rip-roaring row! Mrs Beech stood there in her candlewick dressing gown, red faced and spitting words out….”WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE? WHY HAVE YOU NOT SHOWERED? I HOPE YOU HAVE EATEN ALL YOUR BREAKFAST AND BRUSHED YOUR TEETH…….” it was relentless, she was on top form this morning and I’m sure she must have gargled that blue mouthwash in order to produce even more saliva to spit into his cereal bowl as she carried on barking questions.
Right at that moment he hated his mother with a vengeance, she was so horrible to him all the time, even more horrible than Mrs Monkley the maths teacher at North Street Comprehensive where he was one of six hundred pupils. He really did hate her and fantasised about how he would run away and live on his own in a caravan and never have to go to school or take orders from her ever again.
He grabbed his coat and his lunch box and leaving his Rice Krispies bowl on the table in defiance he left, slamming the door so hard that the picture fell off the wall behind the door….”And I’m not coming home….ever again!” he screamed through the letter box….
He walked quickly down the street and around the corner so as to be out of ear-shot if the dragon came to the door and screamed after him, she would do it, just to embarrass him, she had done so many times before. He kicked a fizzy drink can and then kicked it again, dribbling it down the pavement, he imagined he was at the world cup playing striker for England…”he started a commentary, “..and it’s Barry Beech, he’s got the ball on the edge of the box…he picks up his left foot ….he’s on target….and he scores the winning goal!” he kicked the can as hard as he could. In his minds-eye he could see the ball going into the goal…..Gooooaaaaal….shouted the commentator just as the can went crashing into Mrs Monkley’s classic VW Beetle….uh-oh…he was for it now.
He ran away…hoping she hadn’t spotted him and recognised his face. He ran and ran as fast as he could, until he couldn’t find another breath…his lungs were burning and his face was on fire. He hid in the lane until he had calmed down and he thought it was safe to come out. Just then, the town clock struck 9 o clock…..OH NO…I’m late again…that means more detention lunchtime and no footy….how do I always manage to get myself into so much trouble?……..To be continued…… Granny