Soggy, soggy night

Zelda: [It’s 11:37 PM. We’ve only been in bed for a short time, but Zach and I have both fallen into a deep sleep: The kind where you wake up and you swear you’ve had your eyes closed for hours. But when you check the clock, you’ve only been out for a few minutes. We’re both awake now. Zach rolls onto his side and sighs.]

Zach: It’s a soaker.

Zelda: What?

Zach: I’m drenched. In a pool of sweat. A soggy mess.

Zelda: You’re my soggy mess. [I'm clearly only half awake and barely processing what Zach's saying.]

Zach: I feel like crap. I need to dry the fuck off. [He sits up on the edge of the bed and turns his head from side to side.] It’s running into my ears! [Giggles] How can my body be drenched in sweat and my mouth be as dry as a desert? 

[Zach goes into the bathroom to towel off. When he comes back out, I slide out of bed instinctively. I see what he was talking about: The blanket where he was laying has a Zach-shaped wet spot. Even in the half-light of the bedroom, I can make out where his head, shoulders, arms, had been.] 

Zelda: Spinner or slider?

Zach: Slider.

[Zach pulls the blanket toward him and the wet spot slides off the bed. Now there’s a fresh section for Zach to sweat on. We climb back in, pull up the comforter, and try to get back to sleep. Zach is shivering. It takes a good snuggle to warm him up, and after a few minutes, we’re both back to sleep. We’ll repeat this ritual 3 or 4 more times before the night is through.]

Night sweats & the t-shirt quilt, as told by Zelda

You’ve heard of night sweats. They’re annoying as hell and make people miserable. But they’re quaint compared to the severe category 5 events Zach experiences. One minute he’s sleeping peacefully, the next he’s in a flash flood without a floatation device.

We have a fan running all night, and we keep our bedroom cool, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Some nights Zach is ok. Others, not so much. Sometimes he’s clearly cold and still sweating. He’s tried supplements, monitored his diet and alcohol, and even varied his activity level. We’ve yet to find a pattern or figure out what triggers the sweats. 

At first he tried sleeping on towels, but they got bunched up as he moved during the night. They never seemed to be in the right place at the right time. We also tried those pads they use in hospitals and nursing homes to wick away moisture and keep patients dry. The pads were either too scratchy, too thick, or too dehumanizing to use on a regular basis. And they never seemed to do enough wicking to really be worth the trouble.

At some point, we landed on the idea of using a quilt. We chose one I made years ago. The front is t-shirts Zach and I collected from various sporting events, concerts, and volunteering gigs we did back in the day. The back is a cheerful robin’s egg blue soft cotton. I never imagined that quilt would last for decades. And never in my wildest dreams could I have guessed how we’d be using it on a daily basis. We sleep on top of it, and when we wake up drenched, we slide it over, spin it, or flip it to get a fresh place to rest. 

We asked Zach’s oncologist what could be causing such epic sweats. He didn’t have a definitive answer, but he said it was probably related to hormones, low testosterone, infection, or cancer. Take your pick. We might try an estrogen patch, but other than that, all we can do is hold on: It's just another thrill ride in the amusement park of Zach's life.