Tag Archives: sweat

chuckles, these are the days of my life , , , , , , , 4 Comments

Never Let ‘Em See You Sweat. Literally.

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You’ve seen sweat marks on clothing before, right? If it wasn’t on your own clothing, on the clothing of someone in front or beside you… ? It gives you a sense of “Uhh… ewwww”. I am one of those people; with sweat marks on my clothing. Did you just say “Ewwww”? I know, I did too. It’s saddening, maddening and thoroughly disappointing. Trust me, when I tell you that if I could do something about it, I would.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had sweaty palms. Clammy hands. It’s not ideal, but it’s not the worst thing to suffer from. It always seemed to happen at the most inopportune time: while crafting, reading, cooking or socializing. My mind would be doing one thing, and my hands would be… getting moist… like they were crying or something. They would be uncomfortable, TO ME, making me uncomfortable all over and making me conscious of sweat in general. Sometimes I would sweat from my underarms or in my elbow-pit. O_o Nothing stopped it. Nothing paused it. Nothing diminished it.

Somewhere along the way, I remember watching a movie and a woman said:

“My hands are all sweaty, now I’ve got to go wash them with hot water”.

Before her suggestion, I had no understanding of how to get rid of, or momentarily suspend, the clammy hands.The very next time the clam tried to hit me, to the bathroom I went. Washing my hands furiously with water hot enough to cook noodles. WHEW! And upon returning from the bathroom, settling into my previously occupied seat, BAM! Clamminess redux. Not instantly, but soon enough to make me realize just how temporary that fix was. DAMN!!!

This went on for years. Years. I found that when I was crafting, my hands would go clammy. When I was studying or writing, my hands would go clammy. Whenever I was doing anything with plastic, my hands would go clammy. Ugh.

Eventually, the clamminess spread to my feet. Clammy feet? Yes, clammy feet. Most people have no idea that your feet could be sweating, but your underarms… well. That is the worst. The most socially hindering, difficult to deal with, embarrassing, shameful show of personal display. There is nothing like showing people who you are. It’s liberating and powerful! But, there’s nothing worse than showing people something you don’t want them to see. Or can even explain. It’s embarrassing.

Honestly, I suffered like this for years. I say suffer because that’s how it felt. I found, and sometimes find, myself to be awkward. Not out of the ordinary awkward, but just awkward enough. The sweaty clamminess though, brought me into a whole new realm of “awkward”. People associate “sweaty” with athletics or “nerves”, but people emphatically associate “clammy” with “nervousness”. I honestly didn’t want to meet new people because I didn’t want to have to shake their hand. Sad. You can’t just NOT shake hands with someone .. or you couldn’t, back then. There was no such thing as a “germophobe” and you were not given a pass on the solid social standard of shaking someone’s hand. Not shaking hands meant that you were rude. Plain and simple.

My hands would clam up for specific things. Working with plastic, material or paper. When I was warm, but it was cold around me. Whenever I used lotion, I could feel the sweat pushing its way through the lotion, breaking it down and creating a runny, liquidy situation. Did you just say “Ewww” again? I know. I was also clammy when I was nervous. I could (and can) put my hands on a glass surface and watch the area surrounding fog up. I could (and can) touch a mirror and see my fingerprints clearly. I could (and can) smear ink that has been dry for weeks with one fail swoop of the side of my clammy hand. 😦 Booooooooooo!

As time went on, I just dealt with it. I would have sweat stains on my shirts. If at all possible, I would use a hair dryer or automated public restroom hand dryer to dry the underarms of my shirts. Neither of which was a staying solution. The clamminess took over and often. I spent more time clammy than I did dry. OR normal. I couldn’t (and can’t) put lotion on my hands or feet because it sets the clamminess to an all-time high. When reading, crafting, embroidering or sewing, I have to stop and wash my hands frequently to ensure the quality of the project.

Eventually, this wore on me. I didn’t do anything major, just chatted with my primary care physician about it. He advised me that he had known of such problems, and if “I” considered it a problem or a hindrance, he could refer me to a “specialist”. Wow! That sounds promising, right? I did consider it a hindrance and I did take that referral.

The specialist’s office called me for an appointment. As the days passed until my appointment, I tried to track my clamminess. I wanted to be able to provide a clear-cut example of how and when it would happen. It’s not that I didn’t know, I just wanted to be certain (My hands are clamming up right now). The day of the appointment came, and for some reason, I had already found relief in knowing that there was a specialist and that he or she might be able to help me. I went to my appointment with bells on!

With bells on, I checked in, sat down and waited. My hands clamming. My name was called and I went to the exam room and waited. Hands clamming. I waited and waited. Hands clamming. The doctor came in, introduced himself and asked me:

“So tell me about your sweat issues.”

Bahahahah! Doesn’t that just sound horrible? It was. As I explained things to him, he nodded and took a note or two. He asked me to describe the WORST situation and try to help him understand the gravity. There was once a time when I could hold my hand in a cup-like formation, fingers pulled taut together and my palm curve like a bowl; the sweat actually pooled up in my hands and created a little watery lake in the middle of my hand. ACK! (I hated typing that out right now. It seems too horrible to admit). Upon revealing my most horrible and worst sweaty-palmed story he looked at me and said:

“That’s nothing. Well, let me say that I am sure it’s horrible for you, but I have patients that cannot even hold pens or pencils because their hands are not moist or clammy, but WET.”

WTF? Are you serious? That’s beyond comprehensible. You mean to tell me that there are people out there who can’t hold a pen or a pencil because their hands sweat too much??? I don’t feel so bad now. But then the doctor explained to me the key ingredients in this whole situation (doc talk/BSB chatter):

The sweat, the clamminess the discomfort is DIRECTLY related to your nerves. It doesn’t mean that you are actually nervous or scared, just that something was going on inside and this was how it was manifested on the outside. I can accept that.

There are major nerves that control the upper and lower portions of one’s body. One major nerve to each limb. That’s science, that’s biology and I love both of those. I can accept that.

The only way to eliminate the problem is to cut contact. To clip the nerve. OK, that’s reasonable. I think I can accept that.

Once the upper nerves are clipped, there could be an adverse effect of HYPER-stimulating the nerves to the lower half. “You won’t sweat from your underarms or elbow-pits EVER again”. I would love to accept that.

But. (what?) But, you might sweat from other places. WTF does that mean?

You might sweat MORE from your groin or behind your knee.  Uhhhhh, well…that doesn’t sound right.

Don’t discount it yet. It could be the best thing to ever happen to you. Let me explain a little more. You will never sweat from your upper appendages again. Nothing, nada, ever. No armpit sweat, no elbow-pit sweat. OK. Again, that sounds great. Is it outpatient?

Well, no.(what?) No, it’s not outpatient, and this is why. The nerve that we need to clip is down deep, so what we would do is sedate you, and then roll you onto your side. We would deflate your lung, make a small incision about 1/4 inch wide, clip the nerve and be done with that side. We’d then roll you onto your back, re-inflate that lung and roll you onto the other side where we would duplicate the procedure. After that, you’re all done and the next day you can go home. You won’t even have any scars really. How does that sound? O_o

Why are you looking at me like that? Did you say ‘deflate your lung’. I cannot accept that.

Yes, it’s not that big of a deal, we have to move the lung out-of-the-way to get to the problem nerve. Thanks, but no. I don’t need anything that requires my lung to be deflated.

Well, just think about it. We can get you in as early as two weeks. Just think about it and call me and let me know what you decide. No, that’s ok, I don’t need to think about it, I’ll pass. Again, I don’t want or need anything that requires the delay, albeit temporary, delay of a major and most important body function.

Don’t make up your mind right now, go home and weigh out your options and let me know. No, that’s ok. I don’t need time.

Well, here’s my card, just in case. No, that’s ok too, I don’t need your card. I’m not going to do anything with it. I thank you for your time, but this is not for me.

Are you sure you don’t want to think about it a little longer? Doc, I’m so positive that I don’t want you to deflate my lung for anything over than life saving surgery. I’m so positive that I can live with clammy hands and sweaty pits. I’m so positive that I will never EVER want to sweat MORE profusely from my GROIN or anywhere else. SERIOUSLY, I thank you for your time, but THIS is not the option for me.

He looked at me, sternly, shook my hand and said:

“If you need me, you know where I am.”

I nodded, while gathering my belongings and mouthing to myself “I won’t EVER need you”. That might seem harsh, because after all, I respect his knowledge, his expertise and his time. BUT! Hell-to-the-no, you ain’t collapsing a lung. No, not ever. EVER! The security that I felt walking into the office diminished when collapsing my lung came into play. There is just no need for that.

My hands and feet are a little clammy, right now. My hands get clammy when I touch or handle hard plastic (keyboard keys) or if there is a temperature conundrum: I’m warm, but my hands or feet are cold, or vice versa. There are many situations that claim the clammy. I simply choose not to let it bother me any longer. I choose to just accept it as part of who I am, like not being able to say Worcestershire or play basketball. I’m not coordinated enough for either one of those.

So, there you have it. I’m the sweaty chick. Totally gross? A turn off? I’m sorry. But there is nothing I plan to do about it.. other than wash my hands in warm or hot-as-I-can-handle water, dry my armpits with an automatic hand dryer or just change shirts. That’s it! I refuse to have my body cut, invaded, altered, manipulated and possibly permanently disabled because someone out there thinks that clammy hands are gross.

I was made this way. This is my body and I love it. It took many years for me to come into the love, but I’m here and I’m happy. I cannot change the fact that I have nerves and they create situations that might be difficult to navigate, socially. Then again, I don’t really care about that. If you know me, like me and love me, you know about it and it doesn’t bother you. If you don’t know me and are introduced to me, you’ll soon find out. If you can’t deal with it, hey, thems the breaks. I can live with it. It’s not a choice, it just is.

Sweaty or clammy hands tend to come off as gross. They aren’t. You know what’s gross? Not washing your hands frequently enough. Door handles. Belly button lint. Those things are gross. Clammy hands is just a side effect of an overtly excited person. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, to run away from or to mock. It’s no different from a lazy eye or a shorter leg. Clammy hands are part of me. They are part of who I am. Shake us or leave us. We’ll be here, happy and clammy, either way.

these are the days of my life , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

experiencing the experience

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today is my aunt’s birthday. it’s a milestone, but we won’t get into numbers (or she’ll kill me). she enjoys celebrating her birthday almost as much as i do. she also enjoys pampering herself with mani-pedis or a trip to the spa. today we went to the spa! and what a day. have you ever seen “the blah blah blah experience”? and wondered if it was actually an “experience”?? i personally think it’s completely overused, but today i was pleasantly surprised to actually experience an “experience”. it was better than i expected, and i’d like to share with you the details of the day without turning this into a full fledged advertisement or boring you to death.

today we went to glen ivy hot springs. off the freeway and hidden by nature, apparently it’s been there since 1850. who knew? anyway, the morning started pretty gloomy on our side of town, not ideal for a trip to the spa, but not going and rescheduling is just not what we do. so, with SuperBoy dropped off and our bags packed, we hit the road. clear sailing all the way. as we got closer to our destination, it got warmer and brighter outside. nice. it was packed! well, the parking lot was packed. as you approach the entrance, you can tell that you’re somewhere else. i think that they have a retractable roof over the place. it always seems to be blue skies without a care in the world over there and i just don’t see how that is possible. the are no empty spaces. there are plants, trees and foliage everywhere. there was even a little brown bunny sitting quietly in the shade. cute.

up the stairs to the registration and payment location. the staff is extremely polite, helpful and cheery. they all seem very happy with their jobs. they are always helpful and often caring of the guests. it’s not like going to the local store. it’s a place of pampering, and they do their share. at the registration and payment location there are lots of questions, an exchange  of money or credit and then a map! a huge map!

“this over here, this over there, these things: here, here and here. have fun.”

today we started our fun with the mud. yes mud.

wait.. i started my day with a mango flavored bellini. i don’t know what’s included in a bellini, but the first ingredient is champagne, and so, as you should already know.. i’m in, with both feet. whoooo!

i would also like to share with you that this is a spa. a place of relaxation. everything done here is in, on, around or related to water. if you have problems with seeing people of every shape, size, color, swimsuit type and tattoo coverage, this is NOT the place for you. if you do decide to go, approach with an open mind and be aware that the same is being done for you. this is not a place for judgement or commentary. just go, do what you do and enjoy yourself. honestly, no one is worried about you, so don’t be worried about them.

ok. back to the day.. today we started our fun with the mud. yes mud. red clay mud. fun stuff. you walk under a small gazebo and BAM! mud everywhere. people are in varying states of mud coverage or drying. you start by stepping down into the mud pool. it’s not what you think. it’s not a big bowl of thick mud looking like oatmeal… it’s a huge pool, filled with warm water. just beyond the stairs is a large cement surface and in the middle of that is a huge HUGE ball of mud. the red clay mud. the water is not clear, but it is far from “dirty”. once you’ve dipped yourself, it’s time to play. gather mud from the rock and slather it all over. from head to toe. some only cover their limbs and perhaps their back and chest… whatever they can reach. the fun stuff is watching the groups of (mostly women) folk laughing and covering each other. not too thick now, or you’ll never dry. with our visible areas covered, it’s off to dry. you can lounge on one of the many beach chaises or take a trip inside the “wasa” (a warming room). either way, once the mud dries, it’s time to slough it off. along with any and all of the dead skin you have ever accumulated and/or missed previously. scrub scrub scrub. gosh, i was so ashy that my skin was white. you are also welcome to rinse off and wash with lavender cleansing gel. here is what the website says about the red clay mud:

“Red clay has been used as a purifying agent since ancient times. It draws from the pores, absorbs impurities, and releases waste and dead skin cells while tightening and revitalizing the skin.”

i have to admit that while i have been to the spa several times, the mud is my favorite. they will even take commemorative photos of you and your friends covered in mud and mount them in a “Club Mud” paper frame. good stuff. i personally scrub the dried mud off with a towel and then rinse. my skin is soft to the touch and void of any rough spots or problem areas. some folks choose to lounge in the mud pool for a while and rid themselves of those impurities. others, like myself, just mud and run. we dry, we scrub and one to the next one! lessssgoooooo!

after the warm rinse and dry off we ventured to Cafe Sole for lunch. we were not the only people with this idea! a line for salad, a line for hot food, a line for something else and a line to pay! whew. all of the food is fresh and prepared in front of you. it was gorgeous! absolutely gorgeous. at most places that you go to for services, food does not tend to meet one’s expectations, but this DID. it was in the medium price range, but healthy sized servings. servings for adults enjoying the day away. most people shared their entree, particularly the nachos. good lord, the size of those things was just huge. score! one bellini down, hardER lemonade in it’s place.

with lunch barely finished we turned a couple of corners to “the grotto”. umm, no, it is NOT the infamous grotto at the fabulous and fuzzy Playboy Mansion that donned the phrase “what happens in the grotto stays in the grotto”, no.. this is a grotto containing a “moisturizing experience”. and an experience it was.

ok. so this is where i got the title. have you ever embarked on something called “an experience” only to find out that it was anything but? i have. epic fail and total disappointment. but the grotto, well, that’s an experience worth experiencing. so, now that we are mudded, scrubbed and grubbed, we are ready to moisturize. check in and what? downstairs? wow. we load into an elevator and downstairs we go. when we exit, we are given simple instructions to remain suited, but to remove everything else. through the door where

“The fun starts as an attendant coats your skin with a rich, warm, light green body moisturizer of aloe vera, shea butter, coconut oil, and other beneficial elements.”

they literally paint your exposed skin from the neck down, slathering you with this magical lotion potion that would moisturize a rhinoceros. through another door and deeper into the grotto you go. warm air and low lights make it inviting and comfortable. this is it. this is the experience. you sit in this warm room, coated in magic and just absorb. the warmth encourages your pores to open and allows you to maximize absorption. wait, i found some mud. how did that get there? there is ice cold water everywhere you go, even in the grotto. i didn’t try to sit on the fiberglass formed rocks for fear that i would slide right off and onto my rump with a smack. there were several others in there and everyone was just smoothing the magic on. rubbing their silky smooth and slick skin. it feels nice. oops, wait, i found some more mud. perhaps the grotto is no different than applying waaaaaaay too much lotion, but without a grotto, clean up is going to be mission impossible. i’ll leave it up to glen ivy.

when you’ve had enough of the warm air and trying to sit, through another door to rinse it all off. the showers are ideal and perfect. there are standard shower heads, some lower so assist with all that is lower and for someone like me, there is a giant round rain shower showerhead, up high. aaaaaaah. heaven. my shower at home is very low. even with the showerhead pointed as high as possible, the water hits me in the chin, so THIS is a treat. the grotto moisturizing magic is thick and requires a little help in addition to the water rinse. towels.

once rinsed and equipped with towels, through another door. cooler air to close your pores and help you KEEP some of the moisture. cold water, apples and a very juicy pear. the grotto experience is phenomenal if you ask me. i don’t think i would ever go back without partaking in it. it was thoroughly enjoyable.

hardER lemonade finished, bellini number two. next on the list was a trip to the saline pool. warm warm warm. and just a lovely place to relax. it’s only three-and-a-half feet throughout and has a bench seat all the way around. it also has bubbling jets just high enough to massage my lower back. i never want to leave the saline pool. i enjoy glen ivy as a whole, but the saline pool reminds me of my days at the besties house, jumping in and out of the swimming pool and spa. according to the website:

“The Saline Pool earns its name from its warm water treated with Epsom Salts. An excellent place to soothe tired muscles.”

maybe that’s why i enjoy it so. with SuperBoy the rambunctious four-year-old, something of mine is always sore. today it is my left ribs. he kicked me so hard the other night that i was unable to comfortably continue sleeping. i guess this is my version of “calgon, take me away”, so:

“epsom salt? do yo thang!”

we finished the day with a brief sit in the sauna. another of my favorite activities. sitting upon almost hot tile with hot steam so thick that you can’t see each other. an instant sweat from head to toe without pilates, kickboxing or chasing my son. yes! sadly, you can’t stay in there too long. people tend to get light headed or heart palpitations. me? i just love it. i stretched out for a moment and watched the steam turn into water droplets that slid along the angled clear glass window above my head. usually there aren’t so many gals in there, but today, we were thigh to thigh.. and so.. i’m out!

off to another shower. to rid myself of any more mud or grotto magic. the showers at spas are to die for. tall enough for a gal like me to not have to fold herself in half. the water always seems to be the right temperature and everything smells so great. now, for me, the hair and body care products provided are nothing shy of a  complete breakout. my skin is too sensitive to use them, but i enjoy their smell just the same, so i wash my hands and feet several times so i can revel in it.

after rinsing again, spinning my swimsuit dry in a handy contraption made for just that and replenishing some of the water that was compromised by the sun, the heat and the bellinis, it was time to redress and vacate. sad. it took me a significantly longer time to get dressed. having to drive home after a day at the spa is nothing shy of torture. with spaghetti for arms, i gathered my things and walked out with a smile.

having had time to consider enjoying an “experience” helped me to actually enjoy the experience. i didn’t read too far into it, i followed the instructions and i enjoyed myself. i would definitely consider “the grotto moisturizing experience” an “experience” and i would love to do it again. there are many things to do and enjoy at glen ivy. this is what i did and this is what i enjoyed. go. and when you’re done tell me if what you did was an “experience”.