Windchill, Weatherproofing, and Frostbite

Absolutely nothing of interest happened to me this week except on Monday when my fingers almost got frostbitten.

Weather forecasters everywhere were predicting -25 to -35 degree wind chills, so naturally, I decided then was a good time to go to my landlord’s and weather proof her windows since she’s been gone all winter. I decided to forgo gloves because it’s only thirty feet away, and I couldn’t find any.

The weatherproofing attempt was quite comical. I had to tape plastic over the really drafty window in her front door. The door was so cold that the double-sided tape that comes in the box was rendered useless. But, stubborn as I am, I got it to mildly stick to the door before attempting to stick the plastic up. As hard as it was to stick the tape to the door, getting the plastic to stick was impossible.

So there I was at 9:00 at night in an empty house wrestling with a giant sheet of plastic wrap with little remnants of failed sticky tape surrounding me before I finally said screw it. It’s not happening tonight.

Defeated, I bundled up and left the house. I had to set the weatherproofing supplies on her porch momentarily in order to lock the deadbolt and naturally, the wind knocked the box into the foot of snow in the bushes.

Instead of rushing home to get out of the cold, I now had to climb my way through the snow and ice in order to rifle bare-handedly through the bushes to grab all the stuff and then trek across the snowfield in-between our houses.

In addition to it being freeze-any-liquid-immediately cold, my hypothyroidism makes things worse. I am cold sensitive. What’s cold to a ‘normal person’ is Antarctica to me.

I liken the pain in my hands to crushing a fire-hot coal in your palm. The heat from the garage (which isn’t even heated, just the lack of wind made it feel warmer) amplified the stinging before my hands hit the real joy of my 70-degree apartment. Once inside, it felt like someone was pouring boiling water over my hands continually for a good ten-minutes. And let’s not forget that my hands were redder than the tomatoes in my fruit bowl.

All-n all, it was a very painful ten-minutes until the numbing set in that was all the more appreciated considering the whole reason behind subjecting myself to those conditions was a big fat failure.

Moral of the story, stay inside when it’s cold or at least dress appropriately. You skin will be thankful.

**I managed to successfully put up the plastic today with lots and lots of duct tape. Duct tape is impervious to cold. **