Showers...

One of the most exhausting things I do is shower, even though I shower very quickly.  I would rather linger.  My most favorite thing to do in the world is blanch myself in the shower, however heat makes things worse.  Showering is exhausting because of the heat.  Showering is exhausting because of standing.  Showering is exhausting because of the blood pooling in my legs.  Showering is exhausting because of my blood pressure dropping.  Showering is exhausting because of the need to have my hands and arms above my heart.  Showering is exhausting because of the undressing, toweling off, and dressing.

I think I am a bit loathe to admit that even the thought of taking a shower is exhausting.
And so I shower less than I use to do so.
Probably less than I should.

All summer long, I have been puzzled at just how STINKING HOT it has been upstairs.  I keep thinking, my house will never sell in the summer.  But it hasn't been that hot before.  I keep checking the HVAC, but it is running just fine.  Then a few days ago, I finally thought to check the room where my mother stays.  Struggling with her own temperature issues, my mother had closed the vent in her room.  Strange that having one room closed off made the upstairs so hot, but it did.

When you walk up the stairs, you absolutely pass through air changing from colder to warmer.  It is a palpable difference.  Of course, in the winter, with my window open, it is the reverse, despite the fact that hot air rises.  But now that different is less.  And being upstairs is bearable for me.

One of the things that frustrates me is when folk say, "It is not too hot."  I want to scream back, YES, IT IS!  But I don't.  Most of the time I try to explain.  But not always.  No matter what anyone thinks, that is his/her opinion.  It is not mine ... or rather it is not my body's opinion.  I can tell you once the temperature passes 70 degrees in my house. I start sweating, doing absolutely nothing, once it hits 72.  The difficult part of all my medical appointments for me, once I actually get to the exam room, is that Parkview seems to keep its room set at 72 (most have thermostats).  So, I sit there sweating, whilst awaiting my doctor, and end up a leaving with dripping hair and a soaked clothing.  SIGH.

It is funny, because I do ever so much better in colder temperatures, but I do have ice blocks for feet.  I tried to put away the foot warmer for the summer, but after a few nights, I got it back out of the closet.  SIGH.

It is strange to me that I can sweat heavily just from standing  too long and yet find myself mired in a cold spell with my body temperature dropping to a very uncomfortable level.  I have goosebumps, shivers,  and waves upon waves upon waves of chills.  Just plain miserable.  But, then again, so is the sweating and the terrible, draining fatigue that comes from getting too warm.

Oh, how I miss winter!
Please hasten on your way!

But back to the showering.  I want to be the person who showers every day.  I am not.  I want to be the person who washes her hair every day.  I am not.  My rule of thumb is that if I have not sweated up a storm and if I am exhausted and if no one will see me, I will skip the shower.

On Facebook, I've seen a million and one showering exhaustion memes in dysautonmia groups, so I know I am not alone in this.  That helps.  But I also want to be the old me.  The me for whom showering was not a gargantuan effort fraught with dangers to my health and safety.  SIGH.

Coming full circle, I would add that my most favorite thing to do used to be boiling myself in a long tub soak, whilst reading a book, of course.  Being immersed in hot water is something that I can no longer do without passing out.  Just having hot water in a shower is enough to cause me to faint.  So, I push the limit on hotter and hotter showers until I do faint or near-faint.  Then, I repent with a tepid water shower.  Not for long, though.  The lure of the comfort of hot water calls me, tempts me.  I think I would give most anything in the world to have one last tub soak.

That's the funny thing about last things.  Often, you do not know it was your last.  The last walk with my puppy dog.  The last push of the lawnmower.  The last tub soak.  The last exchange with a friend.  The last talk with my father.