Old(ish)

BEAUTY, STYLE AND LIFE OVER 50

I Sleep Under a Tablecloth: A Hot Flash True Story

MenopauseLiza HerzComment
white tablecloth.jpg

So it has come to this and I now sleep under a linen tablecloth to stay cool at night.  

No one warned me that menopause would be quite so rough. All the older women I knew growing up had lived through World War Two, so they were uncomplaining stoics fond of saying “this too shall pass” and if they ever experienced hot flashes, I never heard about it. Still, a heads-up would have been nice. I would have activitely enjoyed my years of being able to wear cozy sweaters and cashmere wraps, which are off-limits now until god knows when.

My internal thermostat broke spectacularly right before my 52nd birthday, so for the last four years my body temperature is so high every day that I’m in bare ankles and a light coat even in the dead of winter. And every evening it cranks up even higher for a sleep-hampering and mood-destroying game of ‘is it just me, or is it really hot in here?” That’s all thanks to ‘night sweats’ and even typing that phrase makes me want to throw up a little.

I thought that sleeping under an empty duvet cover would work, but that was too hot. One night, wide awake at two a.m., I grabbed a new, white linen tablecloth that was on my bedside chair waiting to be turned into an ad hoc slipcover. If I even stopped to think ‘but that’s a tablecloth,’ it was late and I didn’t care. But it was the right Goldilocks solution - heavy enough that I felt covered by something, but not so heavy as to be oppressive. It was perfect and I was a genius.

This is it, an H&M linen tablecloth that’s two feet narrower than a twin bedsheet, so there’s no extra fabric to bunch up beside you, taking up valuable bed real estate. And if your bedroom is cool enough (admittedly this all falls apart even if the room is slightly warm,) you can actually get a proper night’s sleep, instead of waking fitfully every couple of hours, wondering why the universe hates you so much. 

I even bought a couple extra, because apparently hot flashes last an average of six years (even up to ten, if you’re truly unlucky.) When all this is over, I plan on hosting a big tablecloth bonfire before I return to sleeping under a duvet like a normal person. God, I hope that’s soon.