Tomfoolery of the feminine kind

Illness and injury have beaten me down all week long. To be more graphic and honest, I experienced one of the worst menstrual cycles I have had in years on top of a recurring back injury. I've been applying heat and ice packs at the same time. Plus, I scavenged my medicine cabinet for any muscle relaxers from previous injuries. God was good to me when I found some expired pills that I had to take, and they proved heavenly. My body probably cannot completely figure out which way is up with all these treatments.

At one point, nausea, lightheadness, and dizziness hit me all at one sad time during the workday. My body temperature started to rise, too. The first aid cabinet upstairs only had bandages, ointments, and alcohol swabs but no thermometers or other tools to help me out. So, to save myself from further injury aggravation that could make me cuss, I get on the elevator to go back to my area one floor below, and that's when the fun really began.

The doors closed, and I couldn't look at myself in the brassy doors. I just laid my head on the wall for what seemed like an eternity in a moving sauna greased with molasses. I swear my body was nearly on fire by the time the doors opened. Two of my male colleagues just stared at me as I exited the elevator fanning myself with my hand and rushing to the ladies' room. The cold water couldn't come out of the faucet fast enough as I started splashing my face with liquid lusciousness. The wet spots on my blouse never mattered one bit as my body thankfully started cooling down. I had to wet some paper towels to take with me because I couldn't risk spontaneous combustion before I returned to me desk.




When I barely made it back to my desk without fainting, my inner slacker immediately thought, "What da hayle? I gotta get outta here! I'm sick!" Then, another cool coworker saw me and asked if I was okay.

I'm positive I had a pathetic look on my pale face as I replied, "Noooo. I'm super hot for no good damn reason."

She quickly replies, "Maybe you're having a private summer."

Then, my face had to read, "Bulls--t". Private summer as in menopausal hot flash? No. Way. I quietly advised, "That can't be right. I'm on my cycle right now having the worst cramps ever. Hot flashes are only for old ladies that forgot who Aunt Flo is."

My co-worker, who is a couple of years under me but pretty mature, coolly and easily schools me that hot flashes can happen during a cycle for non-menopausal women. What the hell? That's news to me. Mama never talked to me about that, and I don't recall that being a subject during high school health class or even a daytime talk show. Ever. This is some hogwash joke my co-worker's trying to play on me. But a few minute later, a second co-worker tells me the same exact madness about hot flashes during a cycle.

This newsflash just shattered my little world. The situation felt bad enough when I realized one of life's secrets had just finally been revealed to me. My perspective worsened when I recognized that my maturing early thirties body had betrayed me once again. I already deal with acne breakouts from time to time. Hot flashes, too? Hot flashes. For me? For real? Damn.

Thankfully, I survived my internal betrayal and the urges to take the rest of the day off. But can I trust my body again after this? Are there more jokes and trickery for me to endure? Well, if there are more shenanigans ahead, I'll make the wise choice to endure them since this body is the only one God blessed me with, kinks and all. I'll just be sure to keep sipping ice water.