Savage Words: Battling the cold temps ... with a fan

I got up fairly early on Thursday.

Checked my phone, and had a minus-21 staring back at me.

No doubt these cold temps of late have gotten everyone’s attention. If you’ve read my column before, you know I’m a pretty big fan of winter, and that summer is by far my least favorite season.

I know that’s weird, and that I’m in the major minority on that one. But for as much as I enjoy winter, minus-21 is whole nother level. It was one of those days that made Frosty the Snowman think twice about heading outside.

But as I squinted at the minus-21 on my phone when I sat up from my winter slumber, I had to chuckle at the end of my bed. Like it is every day, my fan was churning at a feverish pitch. No matter the weather, my fan is always on at night.

I simply can’t sleep without it. I guess it serves a few different needs as I try to nod off. I like it cold, and I find it difficult to get comfortable if I’m hot in the slightest. The airflow keeps my room cool and comfortable.

But the fan also serves as a white noise device. White noise is, you know, that slow hum that fills the air. I need that noise.

The need for the low hum began 21 years ago when my daughter was an infant. We had a white noise machine that we realized helped her sleep. It was on every night next to her crib, and I subsequently got used to it.

There was a time, however, when we were living in Indianapolis and my daughter was just six months old when the white noise machine turned out to be an overwhelming hindrance. My mother-in-law was in town, helping us with Isabella.

One night when Isabella just wouldn’t fall asleep – even with the white noise on – my mother-in-law went into her room to see if she could offer some help, some comfort to this six-month-old. She noticed the white noise machine, and the subsequent other buttons that were available to produce different noises. There was rainfall, summer storm, birds chirping … and a heartbeat.

For whatever reason, my mother-in-law went with the heartbeat option.

For the next 15 minutes, at 2 a.m., next to my bedroom in central Indianapolis, it was constant.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

“Kathy, I’m begging you,” I yelled out in a groggy voice. “Please turn off the heartbeat sound and go back to the white noise.”

Eventually, she went back to the white noise. And eventually, it worked. Isabella finally fell asleep. Little did I know at the time that the request to keep things on white noise was as much for me as it was my daughter.

There’s all kinds of science on why people like white noise. Not sure about all that. I just sleep better with the hum.

I even travel with a small fan. It’s about six inches tall, and fits in my carry-on luggage perfectly. However, the last three international trips I’ve taken, the TSA agents at the security checkpoint questioned it. Not sure why. It’s not like I was trying to smuggle something on board, that looked latke a fan nonetheless.

But, they let me through to my gate, a couple of times with a wary look from a TSA officer.

Like I said, I have a difficult time sleeping unless it’s cool … cold even. The worst part about winter for me is the furnace in our house. Let’s just say, it’s efficient. That baby kicks out the hot air, and there’s an air vent directly above my bed. 

Every fall when the temps begin to drop, I make it a point to crawl up on my bed and force the vent closed. But every year – every year – about the middle of January, that vent is blasting out incinerator air. So up I go, in the middle of the night, and turn it closed again. I honestly don’t know how it keeps coming open. 

Ghost maybe? I dunno.

If it is, this ghost has quite the sense of humor. So I just chuckle, crank up the fan another notch, and drift peacefully back to sleep…at minus-21 degrees outside.