“Kalamazoo to Timbuktu.” That song, recorded in the ‘50s by Mitch Miller, linked two locations together because of their individually unique names. Michiganders, like me, recognize the name of one city and wonder about the other. Where in the world is Timbuktu? Does it really exist? Or is it just part of an expression that we say when we’re exaggerating about a far-away place?
Those of us who think about Timbuktu envision a made-up land where no one lives; there are no roads, no public services, no bathrooms, no grocery stores or cushy conveniences for miles around. A place so remote, we relish the peace and quiet that we think we’ll find. We mention to friends of our upcoming travel plans by saying, “We’re goin’ to Timbuktu, in the middle of nowhere.”
But Timbuktu isn’t a popular destination for tourists. The city rests at the southern edge of the Sahara Desert in the country of Mali, and it has always been very hard to get to. Instead of planes, trains, and automobiles, think: boats, camels, and twenty hours in a four-wheel-drive vehicle. Without the benefit of that last luxury, early seventeenth century explorers were lured to their deaths by the legendary “city of gold.” Most of those adventurers were massacred and others died as a result of the harsh desert environment—particularly, scorching sun and no access to fresh drinking water. Timbuktu was, and is, nothing less than a tumultuous place in West Africa.
Gold is still associated with Timbuktu. Along with cotton, it accounts for 80% of Mali’s earnings from exported goods. But possessing an abundance of one of the earth’s most valuable commodities has not protected the country from poverty. Mali is among the world’s twenty-five poorest countries.
Part of the poverty problem began seven hundred years ago when Timbuktu’s resident king, Mansa Musa, gave away tons—literally, tons—of painstakingly-mined gold during his journey to Mecca. He gave so much to the poor as he encountered them along his route that the precious metal quickly lost value and the costs of other goods escalated. Today’s descendant residents of Timbuktu are so mad over the king’s actions that they won’t even speak his name. They blame him for having carelessly ruined their economy.
Control of Timbuktu repeatedly toggles amongst various militant groups and the Malain government. In 2012, Peter Gwin reported for National Geographic News that “Islamists have enforced a Taliban-style interpretation of sharia.” The extremists destroyed tombs and stole ancient manuscripts. They also “broke down the sealed holy inner door of the 15th-century Sidi Yahya Mosque” which as Gwin further noted: “according to tradition, its opening would bring the end of the world.”
During the terrorists’ occupation, girls in Timbuktu couldn’t go to school and women had to wear burkas. According to Gwin, one father lost his twelve-year old son to the Islamist army. The young boy was tricked. He thought he would earn a bag of rice for his family by performing “manual labor at the Islamist base in the center of the city.” When the father found out that his child had inadvertently signed up for holy war, he tried to reason with the commander that his son was needed at home. In response the father was told, “You may have his body when he has fulfilled his duty to Allah.”
Tumultuous.
The U.S. Department of State names a number of the threatening operatives that are active in Mali. They include “al-Qaida in the Lands of Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), Ansar al-Dine, the Movement for Oneness and Jihad (MUJAO), and extremists tied to Al-Murabitun.”
Now there’s another group: Emirate of the Sahara. On January 16, 2016, they kidnapped a Christian surgeon and his wife from Burkina Faso—another of the world’s poorest countries. Dr. Ken Elliot and his wife, Jocelyn, moved there forty years ago to provide medical care to those in dire need. The kidnappers were suspected to be transferring the elderly couple, who are in their eighties, across the border and into Mali. Negotiations resulted in the release of Jocelyn on February 6, but little is publicly known about Dr Elliot’s current condition. Needless to say, he remains in great peril.
This month, we Americans look at our history. February–Black History Month–is a time when we think about where we came from and where we are headed. Black or White, Christian, Muslim, or other, how blessed are we to be able to openly pray for an end to evil, violence, oppression, and hatred?
I’m not sure when it was that I first heard about the phenomenon of the green flash. I don’t remember when I first looked for it. I just know that I’ve been looking for years.
Throughout my lifetime of chasing sunsets, I never spotted a bright green glow rise above the setting sun. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of times I planted myself on a shoreline at dusk. My feet sifted the sand between my toes. I faced the horizon and watched the sun drop below the surface of the earth in the exact spot where the ocean met the sky. There, I admired a dramatic display of light as the sun and sky swirled clouds and blended colors together before resting for the night. Never did I see the end of a day punctuated with an exclamatory pop of green.
It was as if the celestial wonder was determined to hide from me. I began to doubt its very existence. I surmised that, even if it was real, catching a glimpse of the green flash at sunset was as unlikely an experience as viewing Halley’s Comet.
In 2007, Disney writers spun Caribbean lore to their advantage when they presented an explanation for the elusive sighting in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. Onboard a pirate ship and navigating a crew to Davy Jones’ Locker—the Underworld—Captain Barbossa asked deckhand, Gibbs, “[Have you] ever gazed upon the green flash?”
Gibbs began a dramatic response: “I reckon I’ve seen my fair share. Happens on rare occasion; the last glimpse of sunset, a green flash shoots up into the sky. Some go their whole lives without ever seeing it. Some claim to have seen it who ain’t. And some say—”
“It signals when a soul comes back to this world, from the dead!” crewman Pintel interrupted Gibbs and finished the statement.
Impressive storytelling, I thought upon hearing those lines, but I recognized the clever manipulation amongst them. Writers and producers had already created a fictitious world in which cursed men were unable to die and at least one mangy pirate looked strangely attractive. Why not suspend belief further by breathing life into something else that wasn’t real? I was now convinced that the green flash was just a myth.
My family and I stare too soon at the setting sun.
In March of 2015, I met a Caribbean woman who perpetuated the legend. Relatives and I spent one of our vacation days in Nevis. We waited for a ferry to take us back to St. Kitts where we had rented a condo for a week. The gatekeeper at the dock in early evening was the same person who braided tourists’ hair on the beach during the heat of the day. We didn’t recognize her, but rather she—quite observant and well acquainted with the comings and goings of visitors—noticed us.
Her name was Sweet Pea, and she created goodwill by meeting and greeting island guests. Among her favorites, I found out, were Kelly Ripa and her daughter, Lola. Sweet Pea had braided Lola’s hair, of course.
While my family and I talked with Sweet Pea, the night sky started to poke the sun downward. Our host became excited and told us to watch the horizon for the green flash. I had to look away from her for a moment in order to hide my smirk. I also couldn’t let her see me rolling my eyes in disbelief of this touristy tale.
A cloud moves in just as the sun is starting to widen at its base.
The sun continued to lose its commanding presence in the night sky. As if embarrassed by its decreasing status, the sun found a place to hide. It slipped behind a ship that had been docked and abandoned sometime long-ago in the tiny port. For sure now, we wouldn’t be seeing the green flash—or fabricating an impressive story of having seen it.
Sweet Pea didn’t give up. She urged my husband to hurry and make his way to the stationary ship for a better look. “Climb to the highest spot you can! Quickly! You don’t want to miss it!” She was insistent, so off my husband, Greg, ran with his camera in hand. I turned to my in-laws and dismissed the nonsense. “It’s just a myth,” I said. Sure enough, Greg came back without having seen a green flash in the distant horizon.
That night, we returned to our condo and researched this supposed phenomenon. Some of us just couldn’t let it go. That’s when I learned that I was wrong. Physicists, airplane pilots, NASA scientists, and layman all have something credible to say about green flashes. My family and I were intrigued to hunt again.
Two nights later, we packed our cameras and a telescopic lens and drove to a nearby beach. For awhile, it hurt to look at the setting sun, which meant we shouldn’t be doing that just yet. The sun needed to sink further down before it couldn’t damage our eyesight, but no one wanted to miss seeing the green flash. We continued stealing peeks.
A green tinge is beginning to form along the outer edges of the oblong-shaped sun as it sets below the horizon.
With precision, each of us gazed as the sun settled. A cruise ship passed by. A cloud rolled in. A small boat skirted off to the south. While all those others seemed disinterested, we were riveted and hopeful. The sun sunk lower and lower. It touched the surface of the water and continued sinking.
The perfectly round shape became more and more oblong, but tinier and tinier. In the next instance, the oblong image completely separated from and hovered over the ocean.
We were rewarded for our renewed faith. We saw a green bubble, an oval of light, a dot in the exclamation point that marked “The End!” of our search. . .
The marvelous green flash appears off the coast of St. Kitts, March 20, 2015. Photograph, Greg Bixby
The green flash appeared and disappeared almost immediately—less than a second or two, as we expected from our research. Greg’s timing was just right. He captured the moment in pictures!
My disbelief had turned to awe in two short days. It seemed as if true belief was a prerequisite to finding it.
I never expected to see it again.
Just seven months later, I had fun telling a golf partner about it while we finished a round at Torrey Pines in San Diego. I shared my story as the sun was quickly setting. My new friend had never heard of the green flash, so I told her to carefully watch the sun itself in its final performance of the day. Our husbands moved ahead of us, while we two ladies paused to look out over the ocean. This time there were no cameras to capture the sighting, but our hooting and hollering announced our thrill of seeing it.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be lucky enough to see the green flash for a third time, but I’ll forever be chasing sunsets in search of it. If I’m really blessed, I may even spot the epic blue flash.
Learn more about the green flash at astronomer Andrew T. Young’s page: www-rohan.sdsu.edu/~aty.
In Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, Ebenezer Scrooge was obsessed over the accumulation of wealth. He was greedy, hoarding his pennies. He was mean, complaining about the poor. He was nasty, wishing ill on others. No one wanted to be around him. His main problem, however, was that he had lost his joy. Wretched behavior grew in the chasm left behind. In a last ditch effort to save Scrooge’s soul from eternal torment, three ghosts individually appeared to him to whisk him through time: past, present, and future. With the Spirits’ guidance, Scrooge examined poignant moments of his life and was convinced that he needed both a change of heart and a change in behavior.
Similarly, we’ve all had moments in which we’ve buried our joy so deeply that it seems like we’ll need several miracles to find it again. We battle busy schedules and stress over unfinished projects. We say things we don’t mean to loved ones and regret how we’ve hurt them. We obsess over wrongs done to us and harbor contempt towards offenders. Financial worries, health scares, and tension all add to our woe. We want to dismiss everyone and everything with a loud “Bah! Humbug!”
But we don’t have to hide from the Grim Reaper—or avoid answering the phone—by curling up beneath our covers on cold, dark mornings. There are ways to get through the gloom and into the light. We just need a healthy disposition and a route to lead us back to joy. The three avenues that help me are to give, pray, and sing.
GIVE A year ago, I fueled my van at Costco and started to maneuver past the pumps. I wasn’t in too much of a hurry. I had plenty of time to meet my boys at their school and take them home. It was cold, about 40 degrees. The boys would keep warm inside until they saw me arrive.
Just as I was about to exit the Costco lot onto a busy road, I saw a young woman walking through the grass. She struggled on the uneven ground in part because she was lugging an infant carrier. I had no doubt there was a baby tucked underneath the layers of blankets. Of the two travelers, the young mother was the one crying.
For once in my life, I wasn’t conflicted over whether or not to offer help. I rolled my window down and shouted a couple of times in the woman’s direction before she heard my offers to give her a ride.
Quote taken from A Christmas Carol. Photo by Kelly Bixby
She told me that her van had run out of gas in a lot across the street from Costco. She had seen the gas pumps and made her way over to ask for help. A man whom she had approached was rude and turned her away. Her tears led me to believe that she was emotionally defeated by the time I came upon her.
According to Jesus, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). Through my chance meeting with the young mother, I know exactly how it feels to be blessed. It is joy to be handed trust and confidence from a stranger. It is joy to provide for another person. It is joy to cry together, hug goodbye and wish good upon one another.
In Matthew 25:35, we read, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.” If you’re inspired to give of yourself in any of these ways, you’ll meet a need in someone’s life. Sometimes they’ll thank you. Sometimes they won’t. When you give freely, without expecting anything in return, you’ll feel differently, and you’ll want to give more.
PRAY There was a time when I couldn’t imagine squeezing a single minute out of my day for any other being, even God. I was a busy mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, volunteer, committee member…titles galore. For crying out loud, I couldn’t possibly support one more relationship! And then, I gave in to an ever-present tug: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (Philippians 4:6). So, God joined me during my early morning showers.
Praying while showering may seem disrespectful to people of other faiths who are tied to strict worship ceremonies and customs. But my Christian faith teaches that nothing stands between the Creator of the Universe and me. I can approach Him anytime and anywhere. I may be casual and speak conversationally with Him. Alternatively, I can be formal and lower myself to the ground in reverence, never losing sight of the fact that He is owed my perpetual thanks and utmost respect.
Throughout my years spent getting to know Him, I’ve discovered that He has quite a sense of humor. He’s very opinionated and He’s jealous for my attention. He’s loving and kind too. And sometimes His expression of love comes with harsh discipline. What’s really cool, however, is that He provides me with all that I need.
We work well together: I seek His input into my life and He directs me…I may have that statement backwards. Either way, I don’t always listen, and the path isn’t always easy or clear. I’ve tripped over plenty of litter—ugly sin and temptations, disappointment and heartache—scattered by the world. I’m not immune to any of it. Often, I wonder if I might even be more susceptible to it than people who don’t care about His approval.
The beauty of His and my relationship with one another is that He knows what I truly think about Him, and I get to experience the joy of His companionship as He walks with me through all my trials. It feels good to know that He is ever present and looks forward to our one-on-One time. “Go into your room, close the door and pray to your father, who is unseen” (Matthew 6:6).
SING The Detroit Christian radio station, K-LOVE 106.3 FM, challenged its audience members to spend thirty days listening to nothing else but Christian radio. The point was for listeners to replace worldly distractions with the praiseworthy songs and positive messages provided by Christian radio programming. For me, that meant that I would have to turn off daytime TV shows and evening news programs.
I did it! I tuned out mainstream media and primarily listened to three stations: K-LOVE; Faith Talk 1500; and WMUZ 103.5 FM – The Light. For well-over a year now, my life has been practically void of televised news and I don’t miss it one bit. There are plenty of other ways to get information. My friends, family, and church all provide enough details for me to feel like I have some idea as to what is happening in the world. If I want to know more, I look to the Internet and mindfully select what I want to read or view. By choosing to do this, I am not bombarded with overly negative and repetitively broadcast stories. Bucking popular information sources and spending time singing along to songs of worship has brought greater peace to my life and more productivity to my days.
I admit to venturing astray by going to hear the Rolling Stones play at Comerica Park; how could I not? I collected nearly every one of their albums during my youth. By the way, the concert was amazing! The guys all defied their ages as they played a dozen and a half of their iconic songs, and I had fun singing.
In comparison, a year earlier my husband and I celebrated our wedding anniversary by attending a concert performance of Christian artists: Third Day, Mercy Me, and Colton Dixon. That concert was amazing for a different reason: Christian music seeps into my soul like nothing else. I carry songs of praise almost constantly in the background of my mind. And the joy I feel is powerful enough to get me fervently dancing. That’s a phenomenon for a conservative girl like me. With my arms reaching towards heaven, I belt out words of worship, words reserved for the King of Kings. Mick may still jump around like a thirty-five year-old, but I know my heart belongs to Jesus. I feel it in my joyful soul.
“Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:19).
This Christmas, I hope you’ll plot your way to joy. GIVE cheerfully, PRAY boldly, and SING loudly!
I failed my children by not pushing them further in studying spelling and vocabulary. One of my sons, a senior in high school, said to me that he just doesn’t know very many words. His limited repertoire made writing essays for his college applications a difficult and grueling process. Writing never came easily to him.
In contrast, I’ve always loved penning my thoughts and studying the mechanics of grammar, selecting the right words to convey my meaning. I love playing Boggle and Scrabble, and I look forward to quizzing myself with Reader’s Digest’s “Word Power.” I stop myself from giving my son too much writing advice because it’s important that he express his own thoughts in his own way. In looking back at the differences in our educations, I have an idea of why he struggles more than I do.
My elementary and junior high schools encouraged participation in spelling bees. I spent hours on rote memorization with the help of my patient mom. She read pages full of words out loud to me, one word at a time. I never once thought to ask her what the origin of an unfamiliar word was, but today’s top spelling bee contestants frequently make use of that rather sophisticated technique. If I had known there was more to studying spelling than memorization, I might not have lost first place to Kathy Trotter in the sixth grade. I didn’t know how to spell curry. Rote memorization only got me so far. Fortunately, I wasn’t competing for a college scholarship. The short-term goal was simply praise, a dictionary, and a trophy. The lifetime benefit was that I became a good speller.
Spelling and vocabulary matter: I had to let my son know that toiletries would be easier to pack.
Sixth grade for my children was a different experience. Their spelling words were taken from their own journal entries. The children were tested on words which they individually used in their own writing exercises. I understood the practicality of holding students responsible for using self-selected words correctly. But I wanted a bigger challenge for my kids. How would they learn new and unfamiliar words and to expand their knowledge of language?
I reminded myself that teachers aren’t solely or primarily responsible for our children’s educations. As parents, we need to instruct and guide. To complement my children’s elementary school lessons, I developed a game that I thought would challenge them and be fun for our entire family.
During one week, I randomly selected a word each day from our two-volume dictionary. By the end of the week, we all had to know how to spell the seven chosen words and combine them into one sentence. The sentence could be longer than seven words, but it had to reflect correct usage and meaning. Essentially, the family and I studied a word a day—similar in scope to what Merriam-Webster currently offers online—but my game involved the added challenge I was seeking.
So that you can see how this game worked, I’m going to borrow the seven “Word of The Day” selections which Merriam-Webster promoted from October 29 – November 4, 2015. First, we have to consider the definitions of the words. The list below is taken verbatim from www.merriam-webster.com.
Pellucid: admitting maximum passage of light without diffusion or distortion; reflecting light evenly from all surfaces; easy to understand
Underwhelm: to fail to impress or stimulate
Ebullient: boiling, agitated; having or showing liveliness and enthusiasm; exuberant
Microburst: a violent short-lived localized downdraft that creates extreme wind shears at low altitudes and is usually associated with thunderstorms
Ruddy: having a healthy reddish color; red, reddish
Confidant: one to whom secrets are entrusted; especially: an intimate friend
Trepid: timorous, fearful
Now comes the hard part: we have to consider those definitions in anticipation of using the seven words to construct one sentence. Here’s my solution to the puzzle:
My ruddyconfidant was caught in a microburst which left her so trepid that, when she couldn’t describe the situation in a pellucid manner, I was underwhelmed, despite her apparently ebullient experience.
If I wanted to break the rules of grammar when creating this meme, I would have written Happy Givingthanks.
. Sadly, my kids never really enjoyed the game as much as I did, and it was quickly forgotten. But thank goodness, they now have smart phones and can share highly entertaining, often grammatically incorrect, internet memes with one another. If only people like my kids understood the rules before they broke them.
I’m never more aware that I’m a day closer to death than when I’m melting like a freakish human dummy in House of Wax. Burning on the inside and drenched by sweat on the outside, I have zero tolerance for the slightest touch. Hands off! Don’t come near me. I’m about to self-combust. After all, what other purpose do damnable hot flashes serve than to dry up my internal organs until I disappear into a puff of smoke? One day, I may very well be reduced to a pile of dust. In an instant.
You men and younger ladies already have some idea of what we middle-aged women deal with. You’ve seen us trying to minimize contact with anything that restrains heat in our bodies. Off go our sweaters as we scoot to the edge of our seats and make more room for air flow. We could stand, but physical activity takes too much effort and makes us feel hotter.
A Smilebox photo by Kelly Bixby
Some of us are convinced that even the slightest amount of energy we expend in fanning ourselves may work against our attempts to snuff out the raging infernos. Desperate, we become as still as possible and resort to heavy panting—a technique perfected by dogs to cool down. We endure and survive, but in the heat of the moment, we are not glamorous at all.
We mature women have to figure out what we’re willing to do to minimize our discomfort. Exposing one of my solutions may be TMI. Let me just say that I’m often tempted to create a new Twitter hashtag: #HalfNakedAndWriting. Don’t worry, though, moms and dads (particularly mine). I won’t go public with that, because I don’t want to grab the attention of seedy characters hoping to find a provocative picture attached to the description. Instant popularity isn’t worth dealing with a bunch of stalkers. It would be nice, however, to commiserate with other women writers who have reached this milestone in the aging process.
Having lived with this curse for several years, I’d like to share some of the things I’ve learned. Men, I promise not to leave you out. Bear with me while I first explain why commonly recommended treatments are associated with long-term health risks. Then, I’ll reveal how you can safely help the woman you love to alleviate her symptoms.
Popular methods to reduce hot flashes can be detrimental to our health. For instance, a product called Estroven touts that it is “drug-free and estrogen-free***.” Truth in advertising perhaps, but connect those three asterisks to the information hidden in the fine print:
“***Estroven does not contain synthetic, animal or human-derived hormones.”
It sounds great, as if you’re completely avoiding the hormone estrogen. Except, if you keep researching, you’ll find that soy, a plant-based product, is listed as Estroven’s first and, therefore, most abundant ingredient, under none other than the title of “Warnings.”
What could be so bad about soy that it falls under a warning? Ingesting soy affects the levels of estrogen in our bodies and may play a role in a woman’s increased chance of developing breast cancer. In the article “Soy and Breast Cancer, What’s the Link?,” WebMD journalist Salynn Boyles reported:
“The concern about soy stems from the fact that most breast cancers are fueled by the female sex hormone estrogen. Just as the body produces estrogen, so do plants, and soy contains high amounts of estrogen-like chemicals called isoflavones. The research is unclear about how these plant-based estrogens impact the body’s own estrogen levels and breast cancer growth.” (1)
My own gynecologist recommends black cohosh as an acceptable option to reduce hot flashes. It’s known by many other names, most notably phytoestrogen. Surely any and all of those must be safe or my doctor wouldn’t suggest the herbal supplement in the first place?
Not necessarily. Scientists are still battling to determine if herbal supplements increase or decrease a woman’s chance of developing breast cancer. Boyles interviewed Dana Farber Cancer Center oncologist, Wendy Chen, MD, for an expert explanation. Chen indicated:
“A link between breast cancer and hormones is clear. Researchers think that the greater a woman’s exposure to the hormone estrogen, the more susceptible she is to develop breast cancer. Estrogen tells cells to divide; the more the cells divide, the more likely they are to be abnormal in some way, possibly becoming cancerous. We tell women with breast cancer to definitely avoid the [soy] supplements….Our message to the general public is that we really don’t know if supplements are safe because they haven’t been tested.”
Additionally, the American Heart Association concluded:
“The efficacy and safety of soy isoflavones for preventing or treating cancer of the breast…are not established; evidence from clinical trials is meager and cautionary with regard to a possible adverse effect. For this reason, use of isoflavone supplements in food or pills is not recommended.” (2)
We can opt not to take it in pill form, but have you noticed how prevalent soy is in our food products? Soy may be inherently natural, but it is unnaturally processed and added to many popular snack foods. It’s in M & Ms, granola bars, Oreos, chocolate covered raisins and pretzels, graham crackers, and gourmet popcorn. Sadly, all of which I have in my cupboard. Take a look in your own pantry and read a label or two. If soy is in your packaged food, you may see it noted as a type of warning in big bold print: “Contains: Soy.”
Men, there is no denying that your bodies have a little estrogen in addition to your much more abundant testosterone levels. Unknowingly, you may be taking in more estrogens through the foods you eat and even in the water you drink. I don’t want to cause anyone undue worry, but there is evidence that you also are at risk from environmentally introduced estrogens. (Take a look at environmentalhealthnews.org.)
One in eight women, and one in one thousand men, will be diagnosed with breast cancer. After being hit with that devastation—and too late in my opinion—many will be advised to avoid eating soy altogether.
The convenience of processed food is proving not to be worth the consequences on our health. Fitness guru Jillian Michaels offered practical advice when she was interviewed by CNN. She said, “If it doesn’t come out of the ground and it didn’t have a mother, don’t put it in your mouth.” (3)
Image created by Kelly Bixby, using Rhonna Designs
How bad must a woman’s symptoms be for her to adopt the use of steroidal estrogens? They are Known To Be Human Carcinogens! The National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences (NIEHS) reports that its “National Toxicology Program has listed six substances in its Report on Carcinogens (RoC) that cause or may cause breast cancer in humans. These include: diethylstilbestrol, a synthetic form of estrogen that was used to prevent miscarriages; steroidal estrogens used for menopausal therapy; X-ray and gamma radiation; alcoholic beverages; tobacco smoking; and the sterilizing agent, ethylene oxide.” (4)
Do you read that above list and find it easy to accept that tobacco smoking may cause breast cancer? We’ve been bombarded with that knowledge for decades. Now the evidence is showing that using estrogens is risky and that we should think twice before indulging in a glass of wine. Ugh!
What can women do to get through an uncomfortable hot flash? Here are my top three recommendations:
• Embrace the fan. Based on my own experience, the instantly gratifying relief is worth the extra kilojoules, and there are many free or inexpensive options to choose from. When at home, junk mail serves as a great go-to device. Out grocery shopping? Pick up a weekly advertisement on your way into the store. Attending service? The church bulletin is handed right to you. Everywhere you go, proactively scan your immediate surroundings for emergency use of any decent cardstock. Or, channel Scarlett O’Hara and invest in something fancy and foldable. Still worried about expending too much energy? Pack a small, battery-operated fan in your purse.
• Dress in layers. Be prepared to strip down as far as public decency allows. Store your big, bulky sweaters at the bottom of the closet, and donate anything that has to be pulled over your head. Camis are the only exception, especially if you have teenagers at home. They don’t want to see you running around in anything less. Invest in clothing that has buttons or zippers all the way up and down. You’re worth an updated wardrobe.
• Rely on the man in your life. He can help with a short-term fix. Tilt your head to one side, lean in close to him, and enjoy a soothing moment as your significant other gently blows on your neck. It won’t take long for you to cool down, smile, and feel more connected to the one you love. Once you’ve relaxed—and if you and your spouse are lucky enough to be home alone when a hot flash strikes—consider the advantages to shedding all restrictive clothing.***
I think you may find that there’s nothing more natural, worry-free, and satisfying.
——————————–
***Proceed with caution; squelching one fire may ignite an entirely different one.
