Fibromyalgia and the Heatwave

Just in case you hadn’t noticed, we are in the middle of a heatwave.

It’s not even 11 am and it’s 21 degrees! That’s, like, CRAZY! Well, it is for England, anyway.

People are walking around semi-naked (not always a good thing) and if I see one more f**king fly, I will scream!

‘Bastard’. Also Known as the Common House Fly.

Every year (around this time) we get a maggot infestation in the bins, because no matter how fast I am in putting our rotting food into the compost bin, those bastards are quicker. They are Ninja fast and reproduce just as quickly. Our bin becomes a maggot utopia. That is, until I theatrically snap on the rubber gloves and introduce the maggot-massive to my friend, Dom Estos!

Anyway, enough about flies.

Are you still there?

Have you gone to vomit, or check your bins?

Back to the weather..

Heatwaves make me feel shit. This is because my body can no longer regulate temperature. Have I mentioned that my body hates me?

For healthy people – hot weather equals sunbathing, fun, eating charcoaled sausages, collapsing chairs, sunbathing and copious amounts of alcohol.

For me, it’s migraines, sinusitis, brain fog, palpitations, fatigue and IBS.

Not exactly Club Tropicana, is it?

The magic temperature that suits me is ‘mild’. Whenever I hear the weatherperson say ‘mild’, I want to kiss the TV/radio/whatever. On hearing the words, ‘cold front’ or ‘heatwave’, I take myself off into my room and adopt the fetal position.

Please, don’t start me on rain!

There’s no scientific proof that weather affects fibromyalgia, but those who suffer with the condition will verify that their bodies are like barometers when it comes to the weather.

Slight diversion: We had a barometer when I was a little girl back in the 1970s – it was a reindeer with the barometer bit where it’s chest should have been.

I’ll let you into a little secret: I was worried that Father Christmas was missing a reindeer!

Or was this what happened to them when they got too old to fly?

Worse, I had to say goodnight to ‘Rudolph’ every night as I passed him on my way up to bed!

‘N’ night decapitated Rudolph with the glassy staring eyes. Please don’t kill me in my sleep!’.

Childhood trauma aside, I was fascinated how the dial swung from rain to fair etc. These days, I don’t need any atmospheric pressure measuring instrument (antlered or not) to let me know when the weather is going to change because my body tells me when the weather is going to be bad. Or good.

Mine has three weather terms: Good. Changeable. Shite.

Thanks to the heatwave my barometer is firmly in the shite zone. I feel ill. I’m miserable. Even the dog is giving me a wide-birth! Mind you, she’s fairly miserable herself. She just lies about on the floor looking pathetic, not that I blame her.

However, that cool kitchen floor sure looks inviting, no?

Anyway, here are some gratuitous tips of how not to die in the heatwave.

  • Stay indoors. (obvs)
  • Fill your home with fans. (log onto Argos and buy their entire stock)
  • Drink water. LOTS of water. (Dehydration will make you feel even crapper than you already do) (Fact)
  • Stand under a pleasantly cool (not cold) shower and refuse to move. (until someone needs a poo)
  • Do your outside activities in the morning or evening.
  • Live on salads.
  • Keep your clothing lightweight and floaty.
  • Go bra-less if you’re confident you won’t fall over your own nipples.
  • Go commando. (Women suffering from post-menopausal ‘drip’ might want to skip this one)
  • Find a nice north facing room and live in it until the weather breaks.
  • Borrow the washing-up bowl. Fill it with cool (not cold) water and stick your feet in it.
  • Lie down on the cool kitchen floor (with or without the dog) If you have an old one like mine (dog, not floor) leave plenty of space between you as geriatric dog breath could put you into a coma – leading to possible death and you’ll decompose a hell of a lot faster in this heat! (think of the smell!)
  • If all else fails, lie on the floor in your undies.

If you’re suffering in this heat, I wearily raise my fist to you in a show of sweaty solidarity.

If you saw a heat wave, would you wave back? ~ Steven Wright