It's been hot here. It's been hot everywhere. It's the top story in the news. New York City had 100-plus readings yesterday. Even here in the country it was above 90 degrees. We didn't get a drop of rain.
While trying to go to sleep last night (no A/C), I thought about the hottest I've ever been in my life. There were many times the temperature soared above 100. Once, it was driving back from Block Island. Another time, it was a Yankees game at the Stadium. When I was a teenager traveling cross country with my family, it hit 127 degrees in Phoenix. The motel pool had an ice machine cranking cubes into the water, which otherwise would've provoked hypothermia in all who swam in it. I spent most of the night in a somewhat air-conditioned room, vomiting from the combination of bad Italian food and relentless heat.
But there was one time I was hotter than I'd ever been in my life. Early in my treatment for AML, my temperature shot up to 105.9 degrees. Fortunately, my white cells had just rebounded and I had gone to the hospital when my fever was a mere 102. My catheter had gotten infected, and my body was roasting my flesh to battle the bacteria. I lay on a cooling blanket all night, with ice packs tucked around me as though I were a fish at the market. The experience was unpleasant to say the least and I really just wanted it to be over.
I doubt I will ever be that hot again.