This is a whiny post about my whininess. Not whinniness, which is what a horse would be, but whiny-ness. I’m a whiner. Whiner sum ego.
I went to the doctor last week, after years of complaining about the cold. Yes, I’m one of those people that you wish would just move away, so you never have to hear about the frozen feet again. I wear multiple wool sweaters in the winter. I wear wool leggings under my pants, and several pairs of socks under my sheepskin boots. Yet my hands and feet, and thus my entire body, remain unremittingly frigid. I hate it. I hate it so bad that it frequently makes me cry.
It’s against my principles to set the thermostat above 68 in the winter. Even that feels indulgent. Yet, every once in a while, I just can’t take it anymore and crank it up to 70. Then I feel guilty and turn it back down to 60 overnight.
I feel angry all winter long that I have to haul my kids to school and preschool in the bitter cold. I dream of having a second car. But then I feel selfish and bratty. I dream of having a treadmill, so I could run or walk without braving the arctic chill (and now the rain), but then I can’t stand the idea of using electricity to do something that requires none, and should only be creating energy, not wasting it. So I don’t go running.
Well, the point is that I went to the doctor to get tested for hypothyroidism, which is one know cause of intolerance to cold. I was practically praying that they would find that I have it, because I would just have to take one pill a day, and everything would be normal.
Well, I don’t. I’m fine, healthy, whatever. I have Raynaud’s syndrome. Yeah, unexplained intolerance to cold. Nothing really to do except try to keep warm.
Just in case you’re curious, Raynaud’s is where the capillaries in the extremities clamp shut because of either sudden (or prolonged) cold, or emotional distress. Some of you have witness me have an attack, and it’s not the cutest thing ever. I’m sure depression doesn’t exactly help. The hands and feet can become white because of the lack of blood. Then they turn blue from lack of oxygen. (I’ve never gotten that far.) But then, they can develop gangrene. Yup, we can get frostbite in temperatures where other people are wearing shorts comfortably.
I cried for about 10 minutes this morning, when I found out I don’t have hypothyroidism. Isn’t that awesome?