Thermostat

I'm not sure how bald men do it. Regulating my body temperature is nearly impossible. I arrive at work sweaty-faced thanks to the combination of Wanda the Wig trapping in the heat and climbing stairs in the subway - I have not yet been brave enough to just take her off for a few minutes while I cool down, but I have certainly considered it. The light blue terrycloth hat I wear to bed is on and off at least four times in the night. Hanging around the house, I rely on a constantly rotating selection of scarves, lightweight caps and ski hats to keep me warm enough, but not too warm. Call me Baldilocks.

One of the side effects of chemo is that it can make you very intolerant to the cold - last night I got a little too chilly walking back home from the subway after dinner with Laura, Sarah and Gretchen at Gahm Me Oak in Koreatown. I shivered uncontrollably for what felt like hours before finally falling asleep. Not eager to experience that again, I have turned on the radiator in our sitting room, but thanks to the uncontrollability of New York apartment heat, I am now sitting here barefoot, baldheaded and in a t-shirt, trying to strike the right thermal balance.

Winter has skipped New York so far, but we are expecting our coldest weather yet this weekend. Which is why our timing could not be better - to celebrate being halfway through chemo, Michael and I are off for a four day trip to the Caribbean tomorrow. We'll see if it's easier to stay warm, but not too warm, when it's 82 instead of 28 degrees. Wanda is coming along, but so is the SPF50 sunblock for my head.