I am fine with snow, rain and hail, but our foggy, freezing Northern California winter cold bugs me.
My feet stay cold all day and if my teenage son takes “that tone” with me I like to place my cold toes on his arm to watch him jump.
So here I am wearing two sets of socks, a hat and two sweaters while inside my home.
Yes the heater is on, but I can’t bring myself to raise it above 78 — come on — 78 should keep me warm, but it doesn’t. If I put it on 90 I still won’t be warm and I will fall asleep.
I used to think that once my meds were optimized I’d never be cold anymore (there’s some of that crazy, thyroid-thinking again) so each winter I look forward to believing that this will be the year that I am going to be tasty-warm in my home just like everyone else is, then winter comes and we get this fog/freeze climate I hate and BOOM my feet turn permanently cold.
I looked forward to hot flashes because I love the idea that I could be sweaty-hot in a moments notice and not because of a man — in the dead of winter. The idea of a good summer sweat in the winter is very appealing to me. I could be wearing shorts year-round — just not out in public. I do have some self-respect.
But that hot and sweaty thing is just not happening and I don’t think it ever will. I barely get to experience it in the summer. And I live in sunny California.
I know what you thyroid devotees are thinking: Raynauds disease. Because that’s what we thyroid people do — we disease hop. We remind me of those people who enter the medical profession and begin thinking they have every illness they read about in their medical books.
So I am going to tell you that my feet are nice and pink thank you. We are not going down the Raynauds road today.
My entire life this cold thing has been happening to me. I’ve become used to wearing more socks than most of the U.S. population. When I was a teenager, I used to come home from school, turn on our heater to 90 and lay over the top of a vent with a big blanket. It was the most heavenly experience in the world . . . then I would drift off to sleep for an hour, waking up in time to get ready for ballet.
No one ever thought it could be thyroid-related. My mother just wanted to kill me when she’d catch me. To others, my being cold was me not “being tough.” Yeah see how tough I am when I stop speaking to you.
I can’t do the lay-over-the-heater thing in my current home, nor do I really want to, but I have been known to microwave my socks before placing them on my feet. Guys are really attracted by that move — just in case you feel the need to use it.
I’ve accepted that this cold thing happens to me each winter, so I make a little game out of it. Sometimes I like to experiment with just how crazy, frumpy I can look under a pile of sweaters, a winter hat and 4 different socks (because it takes too long to find all the mates and my feet are cold!). When I catch a glance of myself in the mirror I have to laugh.
My son will look at me and say, “What is the matter with you? You aren’t going out like that are you?” He says it like I would go to a prom looking like this.
He’s sitting there in shorts.
I should put my coldest foot on his leg.
This content is published under the Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.