Surviving the summer heat and atmospheric pressure fluctuations
For this columnist, summer was a constant battle against high heat and humidity
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Southern California spent the summer behaving like it had a personal vendetta against my autonomic nervous system. I don’t know what kind of identity crisis the atmosphere has been going through — El Niño, La Niña, or La Dramática. But the heat, humidity, and daily barometric pressure swings have turned my entire body into a malfunctioning weather station with a broken alarm system.
With high temperatures ranging from 90-105 F, lows dropping to 50-60 F, and humidity levels spiking to 90%, I think the sky wanted to steam‑cook me. Add in the constant barometric pressure shifts, and my body simply couldn’t keep up.
I’m exhausted from managing the symptoms of my IgG4‑related disease (IgG4-RD) and dysautonomia that activate simultaneously, like sweating, dizziness, difficulty breathing, inflammation, and fatigue — all because the atmosphere decided to shift again.
And yet, this is the reality for so many chronically ill and rare disease patients. In every community I’m part of, others have agreed with me about the same thing: Weather changes trigger flares.
Heat and humidity destabilize autonomic systems. Temperature extremes disrupt already fragile physiology. Barometric pressure swings inflame tissues. When humidity rises, barometric pressure drops, and the weight of the air pressing against your body decreases. This can allow sensitive internal tissues, nerves, and joint linings to expand slightly. That slight shift can be detrimental to me and others who live with chronic and rare illnesses.
So, basically, it’s not “just the weather.” It’s a medical event.
Negotiating with my immune system
My heat intolerance is one thing. Heat intolerance with dysautonomia, IgG4-RD (which comes with its own set of chronic and inflammatory conditions), and irregular and excessive sweating are part of an entirely different universe.
My body doesn’t regulate temperature the way it should. Some sweat glands are diminished, some are gone, and others seem to be working overtime in random places. So instead of cooling down, I get hot, flushed, drenched, and dizzy, and almost start hyperventilating from short walks or just standing outside for a few minutes. It’s like my internal thermostat is broken and stuck on “mayday.”
Since I am immunocompromised and currently enrolled in a clinical trial, excessive sweating isn’t just uncomfortable. It’s a risk. The excess moisture increases the risks of yeast and urinary tract infections, which for me, can derail treatment, delay dosing, or trigger medical interventions.
I actually did get a minor infection this summer, courtesy of my body’s inability to regulate temperature. That’s how fragile the balance is: one sweaty afternoon and suddenly I’m negotiating with my immune system like it’s a union.
So I adapted. And adapted. And adapted again.
How, you may ask? Well, I bought a massive air‑conditioning unit just for my bedroom. It has a dehumidifier that’s strong enough to make my room feel like a climate‑controlled research lab. I placed mini USB fans, clip‑on fans, and rechargeable neck fans everywhere around me. I shower constantly. I’ve switched to mostly 100% cotton clothing and have donated anything that traps moisture. I try to stay dry, cool, and stable enough to avoid spontaneously combusting every other minute!
Even with all of that, though, the weather still seems to win most of the time. I was confined to my room for most of the summer. My bedroom became the only environment my body could tolerate during these atmospheric mood swings.
But my safe space is starting to feel like a cage. I’ve missed social gatherings and arrived late to the few that I could attend. I continue to struggle with walking short distances, climbing stairs, or being outdoors. It feels like my entire body is on fire or like I’m about to faint. The dysautonomia flares, the inflammation flares, my central nervous system acts up, and presyncope episodes are still a regular threat.
It’s frustrating to feel trapped by something as basic as the weather. It’s isolating to watch the world enjoy summer while you’re strategizing how to avoid overheating in your own home.
I’m relieved that fall is finally here. For me, cooler temperatures mean fewer flares, fewer infections, fewer presyncope episodes, and fewer days spent trapped in a room trying to outsmart the climate.
This summer taught me something important: Living with a chronic and rare disease means adapting to forces I can’t control. That includes the sky itself. And sometimes survival looks like portable air conditioners, neck fans, clip-fans, cotton shirts, dehumidifiers, and choosing your temperature-controlled lab over an outdoor event or a social gathering. For me, that was the difference between functioning and falling apart.
Note: IgG4-RD News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of IgG4-RD News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to IgG4-RD.
Joyce Geesling
Hi,
I’m one of the few people that has IgG4-RD in their lungs. The disease thickens the bronchial openings in my lungs and closes them making it difficult to breathe. Fortunately l have a pulmonologist at Cleveland Clinic who has fitted me with a silicone stent to hold my airways open. Problem being if l don’t keep it clean with breathing treatments it gets a biofilm in it that has a very unpleasant odor causing my breath to smell. It’s what l deal with having this disease.