I'm not going to beat around the bush. For the past week, I've woken up sweating, not every night, but enough to plant the worry seed.
A quick google of night sweats will give you mostly logical and benign reasons for the annoying occurence. Menopause is numero uno, but I don't get hot flashes during the day so my thermostat seems okay.
Night sweats mean one thing to me: leukemia. It was not an original symptom four years ago, but each time I was being treated and failed to achieve remission, I'd get them, the serious, drenching, change your pjs and sheets kind. The recent sweats have been mild--no bed changing, just toss off the top.
After all the upbeat posts, I wanted to include one that realistically portrays what we leukemia patients dwell on: low platelets; a bruise; anything we can reasonably or unreasonably associate with the return to hell. We silently wait for the other shoe to fall; we don't trust our bodies; we don't want to alarm anyone. We put the worry in the bad room and try not to think about it.
But obviously we do.