its all about location

The flames have to be shooting out of the top of my head by now, she thinks, and then she shivers with anticipation as she steps outside, barefoot and naked into the snowstorm. She plops down ass first into a small snowbank. A snowy pillow cradles her head as she lies back with a sigh and hears the hiss of the flames being squelched. “This is a great spot to make snow angels!” she murmurs dreamily as she starts to wave her arms and legs. She begins to feel the icy bite of the snow on her skin… but she cant stop the smile threatening to split her parched chapped lips. “This is bliss” she thinks…

She startles as she feels a hand on her shoulder, “wake up Missus you’re having a nightmare…” someone gently shakes her and she slowly begins to realize she is not really making snow angels … she tries to open her heavy eyelids and as she does she finds she is indoors, in a hospital bed. “Missus you’re having a fever dream” says the voice. “Let’s sit you up a bit and have a sip of icewater.” As gentle hands that seem to go with the voice help her sit up, she shivers again. The voice, whose face is still outside her fuzzy field of vision, says “awww look at you, your nightgown is soaked! You must be freezing.” She laughs thinking of her recent snow angels and how she had been frolicking in the snow just moments ago. “Lets help you into your slippers Dearie - then you can change your gown for a dry one in the bathroom, ok?” The hands help guide her colorfully knee socked feet to floor and into a pair of fuzzy Hello Kitty slippers. The bright faces of Kitty looking up at her are all she can focus on as she shuffles them and her feet one at a time in the direction the hand on her back gently guides her, towards the bathroom doorway. “You must have sweated through your gown during your fever. Dry off and change into this one, and let us know if you need help.” A towel and a soft purple night gown are given to her. She reaches up with her free hand to close the door behind her and she stops, stunned, looking at her hand. The skin on this hand seems almost papery dry, thin, freckled and translucent, the blue of viens showing. Was that really HER hand? She turns away from the door – still holding and turning her hand over in front of her face – flexing her bony fingers and staring at the pronounced outlines of her tendons moving over the back of her hand and knuckles in amazement – she realizes she is now directly in front of the mirror. The shock of two long white braids, as bright as the snowbank she had just imagined laying in make her pause again. She slowly lowers her offending hand and now sees her own dark eyes looking back at her from a familiar strangers wrinkled and lined face. She blinks several times and tries to focus on the face in the mirror. It smiles at her, eyes crinkling. And a laugh, bubbling up from somewhere inside her, comes out instead through the strangers mouth.

She starts shivering again and hears a voice from the other side of the door, “Babe? You ok?” Another jolt of surprise hits her when she hears the voice whispering right in her ear, “Sandi, wake up, you’re having a nightmare…” through a confused haze it slowly dawns on her that it’s her husband and that she's dreaming. She struggles to wake up in their cold bedroom, deep in the middle of a dark winter night, and even under the huge comforter and electric blanket they share, she feels cold and wet. She angrily realizes the hot flashes and accompanying night sweats have stuck yet again… She gets up to peel off her soaked clothing and blindly rummage through her dresser in the dark for a dry shirt and bottoms. She shivers and stumbles, still groggy, on her way to the bathroom.

Half awake, she turns on the bathroom light, and squints, both from the sudden brightness and from a fear of what she may still see in the mirror. But through her half closed eyes and fuzzy vision without her glasses, she is relieved to see her dark hair. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles and shakes her head at her reflection and thinks to herself, “and this is just the pre-phase of menopause… is it too much to ask that my next hot flash dreams have me swimming in Hawaii or Jamaica instead of frolicking in the snow?”