Hot Flush – again!
The duvet feels really heavy tonight and I can’t sleep, there’s a faint glow from a small light which outlines the room and the sound of the fan whirling from side to side.
My husband Harry turns over and looks at me. ‘That fan is keeping me awake.’
I turn to look at him. You’re keeping me awake with your snoring.’
I lay back down and ask. ‘Is the heating on?’
Harry huffs and gets out of bed. ‘Why would the heating be on?’
I wait for a minute and say. ‘Will you go down and check, I’m on fire.’
After a minute or two he comes back in the bedroom flops on the bed and says. ‘No.’
I kick the Duvet off because my feet are on fire. I try to get comfy and I’m just about to drop off when I can feel him breathing on me, its intermittent breaths on my back and arm.
I nudge him. ‘You’re breathing on me.’
He sighs. ‘I have to breathe.
‘Well don’t do it on me.’ I say through gritted teeth.
Harry falls back to sleep and again I’m nodding off when he passes wind. I jump out of bed and I’m furious. ‘That’s it, you’ll have to go in the spare room you’re driving me nuts.’ I turn the light on and he’s now sitting up looking at me. I’m bright red and my pyjamas, which have a pigs face on the front, are stuck to me. Harry feels uncomfortable and nervously sniggers, ‘Wow a wet T shirt competition just for me!’
I can feel myself becoming more and more annoyed. He smiles at me. ‘Why are you wet?’
As I’m wafting my face I shout. ‘Because I’m on the menopause, I’ve told you.’ He stares at me, so I stare back. ‘Why are you looking at my boobs?’
He screeches like a girl. ‘I’m not.’
Harry goes all silly and says. ‘I like them, they’re two of my closest friends.’
I point my finger at him and my reaction is totally over the top. ‘Don’t be smutty! I’m shrivelling up inside and you’re looking at me with your eyes full of lust.’
He smiles. ‘I still fancy you, it’s not my fault.’
I pace up and down the bedroom whilst he sits watching me, I’m on a rant and nothing will stop me.
‘My Ovaries have dried up and they probably look like sun dried tomatoes, not to mention the night sweats, confusion and forgetfulness. ‘I’m emotional; I cry a lot.’
Harry nods. ‘I know.’
I’m still ranting ten minutes later, I say half in a sob and half shouting ‘Only the other day I cried at Come Dine With Me.’
I sit on the bed and I’m deep in thought. ‘Maybe I’m going to end up in one of those mental Hospitals.’
He shrugs his shoulders. ‘Carol just try and relax.’
I’m exasperated as I say. ‘I can’t relax I’m so wound up I could kill someone… it could be you.’
Harry picks up his dressing gown and runs into the spare room. I open the window wider, lie down,
The dog gets on the bed and I fall into a deep sleep.
Written by Carol Kearney
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