The Human Scale Of Getting Too Hot: How We Melt Down

MikeachimThe Everyday73 Comments

Jayel Aheram,sweating,heat exhaustion,heat stroke,human scale of hot,overheating

What happens when we’re getting too hot?

PSA: This post is about how to overheat and boil in your own skin. If that sounds a bit too euww, try this post instead – it’s a lot more hopeful and constructive.

Being alive is a remarkable balancing act between two cliff edges. When the temperature drops, we’ve only got a 10 degree margin of safety, a few paces backwards, before we’re feeling the icy touch of death. But this leeway is luxurious compared with what happens when we start overheating. Here at our normal body temperatures, at 37 degrees Celsius / 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit (or thereabouts), our toes are already poking over the edge of our very own heat-deaths.

Because right now, all that separates you and runaway thermal meltdown is…

3 degrees.

Let’s apply a little heat and see what happens.

37.8°C / 100°F

Maybe you’re in a nice warm room, and you’ve just had a big meal. You’ve got a bit of a glow on. This is because our bodies are amazingly efficient at converting food into heat – so much so that if left unchecked, your metabolism would push your core body temperature around 1.5° C higher every hour. Two hours and you’re approaching done.

But yet again, your hypothalamus is here to haul you out your own fire. As soon as you started straying above optimum temperature, it triggers two notoriously unloved bodily processes for venting heat. Your skin’s blood vessels dilate and blood rushes up and into them – and that blood is being pumped straight from the hot zone, so when it meets the coolness of the outside air, the unwanted heat is safely pushed out your body. That’s why a flushed face feels sizzling hot.

Grevel,sweating,heat exhaustion,heat stroke,human scale of hot,overheating

But far more embarrassing – and more marvellous – is when tiny glands all over your body start squirting out droplets of water mixed with sodium, potassium, calcium, magnesium and a host of trace minerals. You’re doused by your own sprinkler system, a warm liquid that immediately cools on contact with air (for “cools” read “transfers heat off the body and into the air”) and then evaporates, shifting remarkable amounts of heat in the process.

An amazing biological achievement…which we hate. Nothing like a big sweat patch to flag up to the world that you’re a repulsive nerd – even though it’s actually a small sign that Darwin’s dice are rolling in your favor. You pull your clammy shirt away from your body and fan it surreptitiously. Ugh – human beings are so gross.

38°C / 100.4°F

Maybe you’re newly arrived in an equatorial country you’ve never visited before. And maybe you’ve just tried to carry two suitcases up five flights of stairs. You’re in great shape, and under normal circumstances this physical feat would literally be no sweat. But these aren’t normal circumstances.

As wonderful as the hypothalamus is, it’s not fitted with a GPS. It doesn’t know you’ve just arrived somewhere that’s on average 25 degrees warmer at this time of year. In fact, if your thermoregulatory system could be confused, it’d be thoroughly nonplussed by now. Why isn’t a mild sweat doing the job? Why isn’t turning you lobster-red achieving the required cooling results? You’re suffering from a kind of thermal jetlag, and your body needs time to acclimatise. Until then, sorry: you’re going to sweat buckets. The floodgates are open.


This is a sensible cooling mechanism in the short term – but you’ve got to do your bit to help it. You’re like a breached dam, losing massive amounts of fluids and salts, and if you don’t keep both of them topped up you’re going to lose the fuel you need to keep you alive. So, lots and lots of water. Go nuts, using one of these. No, really.

But you’re also going to need to replenish some of those body salts, mostly that sodium that’s crusting nicely in the wrinkles of your skin. You know what you need? Salty snacks. Yes, it’s medically important that you eat dry, prepackaged junk food (which will even make you thirstier, making you drink even more water). Oh, life is a struggle.

38.5°C / 101.3°F

Whoops. For your own good suicidally stupid reasons, you’ve decided to sip a strong coffee instead. It’s probably a myth that caffeine itself dehydrates you (it can increase your rate of urination, but usually not enough to derail your fluid levels). However, a strong coffee will psychologically slake your thirst for a short while. This is Bad. You’re sipping fluids when you should be drinking them.

Now you’re getting too hot, and it’s time to start your meltdown.

Your skin is painfully hot to the touch . . . but it’s drying up. This is because you simple can’t perspire enough, and your body heat is scorching away what little sweat you’re managing to squeeze out. Your lips feel swollen, and your face is a truly livid lick of scarlet. With your blood so close to the surface of your skin, it’s losing its water due to evaporation – which means it’s thickening. Thickened blood? Clotting. Your chances of suffering a stroke or a heart attack just spiked.

Don’t go standing up suddenly. Your brain needs a regular blood supply – around 15% of your cardiac output. With so much blood currently diverted elsewhere, your blood pressure is dropping and not enough is being pumped up to your head, making you woozy, nauseous and unable to stand without waves of dizziness. You’re becoming severely hyperthermic – the warm-blooded twin of hypothermia.

You’re terrified.

But don’t worry – you won’t be conscious for much longer.

39.5°C / 103.1°F

You’re scared and in pain. Your breathing and your pulse are both racing. You’re also yawning convulsively. Your brain is in trouble, and it’s forcing you to suck in cool air and the oxygen you need to keep conscious in your elevated metabolic state.

Are your surroundings helping or hindering your last-ditch attempts to save yourself? If the air around you is almost as warm as you are, your sweat can’t evaporate…which is why heat exhaustion is such a danger in high-humidity (75%+) environments, especially to unacclimatised new arrivals.

At this stage, you might be panicking. Hopefully you’re knocking back as much water as you can – and that would be a great idea if you kept snacking too. Dilute your body’s saltwater mixture too much and you’ll be hit with a bout of hyponatremia. Symptoms? Same as those from heat exhaustion – except with the thrill of possible brain swelling. It could well be that the only thing between you and a coma right now is a tube of Pringles.

40°C / 104°F

Welcome to the death zone.

If you’re still conscious at this temperature, your awareness is severely impaired. You’re almost certainly not going to do the right thing – and the right thing is to get your temperature down as quick as possible, because you’re starting to die. Beyond 40 degrees Celsius, you’re into heat stroke.

This is ugly. Your hypothalamus can’t do anything. Your core body temperature is rising, your natural thermoregulatory functions can’t do a damn thing to stop it, and your body tissues are suffering permanent damage as a result.

Your one and only hope right now is for medical services to arrive and cool you with specialist equipment. If well-meaning samaritans lay wet towels on your skin, it’s probably only going to be a few seconds before the damp material warms and becomes an insulator.  Fans blowing cooler air, periodically-applied cold compresses, water and a little salt…this is how passers-by can keep you alive until professional help arrives. But you can’t tell them that because you’re now unconcious, just minutes from a coma.

Heat stroke isn’t necessarily fatal – if treated swiftly and skillfully. But even if help arrives in time and your temperature is brought down to safe levels, it could be months before it’s known how much damage has been dealt to your organs.

42°C / 107.6°F

Your last shot at salvation is gone. You’re boiling in your own skin.

And here’s how. Your body temperature is so elevated that the proteins in your cells are cooking – as Alok Jha puts it, “like egg white as it boils”. Muscles are starting to lock up – including the ones that allow you to keep breathing. Your thickened, low-pressure blood supply can’t reach your brain…

Your brain, the nerve centre of your body, shuts down.

Game over.

Further reading:

Images: Grevel, Jayel Aheram, 96dpi, Patrick J. Lynch and Kansas Poetry (Patrick).

Note: where I use affiliate links to products or services I recommend, I receive a tiny percentage of any sales that might result, at no cost to the buyer. No sweat.

  • Damn.

  • Or, move to Scotland…

    • Yeah, you say that, and I’d believe you, were it not for being massively caught out twice by the sun, once on the Black Isle, once in Orkney. And by caught out, I mean shrieking wildly while slathering Aftersun on myself for the following 24 hours, each time.

      But there’s a lot of water in Scotland, yes.

      Most of it locked up in the whisky.

      ps. Am referring to Orkney as “a place as Northerly as Scotland” here, rather than “part of Scotland”. Although the army of fishing boats that’s just launched from Kirkwall filled with warriors clamouring for my blood is probably not going to read this postscript now, and I’m doomed. Alas.

  • Ahh wow. All I want to know is how hot do you have to be to start balling on the side of a street because you can’t find your hostel?

    • :) Sounds like a story there. ‘Fess up.

      I’ve felt that way when trying to find a bus station in Athens in a 32-degrees-in-the-shade heat. I may have sniffled a bit.

  • Jimbo


    Mikeachim was today sentenced to 8 consecutive life sentences for murder. The fiendish monster was found to have modified a room in his house in Hornsea into a primitive kind of oven. Having lured unsuspecting tourists to their doom with a promise of ‘coffee and falafel’ he proceeded to cook them until medium rare.

    Discovered after posting an account of his culinary skills on a blog, painstaking investigations by Scotland Yard found that he had cooked and eaten at least eight individuals. It is believed that the ‘Hornsea Boiler’s’ unhealthy fixation with cooking people alive began during his time as an abbatoir inspector. An ex-colleague, Dr Jimbo, said, ‘He always seemed like a normal guy really. He used to like getting drunk with the rest of the lads, except he always shaved his head and rubbed boot polish on the bald spot and went out in the sun to get p*ssed. He used to cook a mean roast chicken too – although it was a bit stringy. I can’t believe he was the Hornsea Boiler. Still they do cookery lessons inside nowadays, maybe it’ll improve his falafel’.

    • I think I just ruptured something.

      No, the Hornsea Boiler is an ill-reputed lady of independent means. But I applaud your imagination. Because it’s all invention, dear readers, pure invention! Haha!

      *hides boot-polish-stained hands*

      • Jimbo

        Was it your cell mate you ruptured?

        • Yes. With my amazing humour.

          Because that’s what you meant, isn’t it?

          *Mike’s lawyer leans forward in his chair, an intent look on his weaselly face*

          • Jimbo

            As a famous Scandi once said, ‘Are you just pleased to see me, or is that a weasel in your trousers?’

            The moral of this tale: don’t keep lawyers in your trousers, even if they look like weasels and you’re from Yorkshire.

  • Indeed. Never a wiser / weirder thing was said in this blog, sir.

    I do wish I could find that ferret-down-trousers article again, the beautifully written one. This is the closest I can find at present:

    • Jimbo

      You mean this one

      Anyway, we’re drifitng off thread. So it’s about time I complied to Godwin’s Law: Those ferrets are just like furry Nazis.

      • Damn you. That’s twice I’ve spat tea today.

        This was new to me, Herr Jimbo.

        And for the record, there is no “off-topic” for this website. Which is both a strength and a weakness.

  • You have this macabre fascination with the most painful ways to die. While I enjoyed your article on freezing, it didn’t quite shock because I’m never again going to be in a climate cold enough to experience those symptoms. But heat, well, that’s another matter entirely. I’m in the SE U.S. this summer, where it’s 95+ degrees (~ 35C) day after day (I recently came out of a coffee shop and got in my car and the temp gauge read 105, or 40.5C). Everyone else here is suffering but for me it’s a cake walk. I actually went hiking in the hills last weekend in 35 C temps. My ability to tolerate the hot might have something to do with spending the last 4 months in Mexico, where it was so much hotter, but more likely it’s due to the fact that I sweat efficiently (read profusely). No matter what I do, when I’m hiking my back side is drenched. I’m sure it looks like I’ve sat in a puddle. Used to be embarrassed about it but can’t do anything about it, and besides, I can’t see it. Ignorance is bliss. And it certainly helps to see everyone else suffering so when I’m trolloping along like it’s a spring day.

    As always , great writing, although I continue to be fascinated by the mind that can come up with this stuff.

    • I have to blame my traffic for my macabre fascination – the first post proved popular, so my inner traffic-monkey found returning to the topic irresistable. And also I promised a few people I’d do the reverse in the summer – so this is it.

      It is fascinating how the human body adapts. Long-term travelers seem to be able to adapt quicker and to more extremes – as if they’ve adapted to adapting itself. Which presumably makes occasional holidayers the most at risk, especially the ones who spend their days in climate-controlled environments like office cubicles…

      I make no apologies for my mind. The reason being, I only barely understand it myself.

      As always, you’re too kind, Barbara.

  • Should have made my two teenagers read “How we melt” before heading to Hawaii where they both voluntarily melted/burned themselves in the sun.

    “Wear sunblock,” I threaten.
    “We have to come home with a tan,” they reply.

    Needless to say, they didn’t listen to their mother and both fried their skin. Too burned to take surf lessons the next day, they spent the entire last day of vacation in the hotel room drinking Gatorade and applying alo vera gel.

    • Teenagers are a law unto teenagers only.

      But I think “too burned to taje surf lessons” is the equivalent of “grounded for a month”, so I reckon it’ll have sunk in. ;)

  • Awesome stuff. I guess we Americans have it easier because we have a few extra degrees leeway.

    • Tch. You Americans, always got to have that bit extra with everything. ;)

  • Ha Ha – just figured it out – “Fevered Mutterings” – death by heat. Tell the truth, you have a temperature right this moment, don’t you?

    • If I was permanently on the brink of heat-induced insanity, it would certainly explain much.

      Does this mean if I move somewhere warmer I die, and if I move somewhere colder I lose the ability to write? In other words, does this mean I’m trapped in Britain?

      *sweating profusely*

  • Abi

    Just what I wanted to be reminded of on a day when the temperature is 45 degrees outside…Curse you, fevered mutterings! Take a paracetamol and become normothermic mutterings…(she says, pulling the blinds down even further and considering sitting in the freezer…)

    • “Normothermic” is a glorious word and I wished I’d thought of it. But then, I’m not a professional. ;)

      If it’s any help, I read in a reputable medical journal that a bottle of wine taken every hour helps reduce awareness of all medical complaints up to and including fevered muttering. And you’re in the right corner of the world for *that* particular remedy…

  • What in the name of Hades inspired this post??!!

    Thermal jet lag? That’s interesting, never heard of that before. And yeah, I read a report the other day that suggests coffee doesn’t usually have a net dehydratory (probably not a word) effect.

    • The inspiration was a promise I made to someone back in January, when I wrote The Human Scale Of Cold (it’s now under the “On Travel” tab at the top right) – I said I’d do other end of the scale. Which is far scarier, frankly. Freezing to death is the better of these two evils…

      Yes, it’s a happy-go-lucky topic on the whole, innit. A real knees-up. I’m sure Google is adding the keyword “fun” to my blog profile as we speak…

      Yes, I read about a major study a couple of years back (should have linked to it too) that concluded that coffee itself doesn’t inordinately increase water loss. It does a tiny bit, but not much, and certainly not enough to be dangerous to anyone getting a normal water supply into them on a daily basis. And I went with that, even though the coffee-as-diuretic story is still going strong in many places…

  • I had to convert to degrees Fahrenheit to really get the specifics, but its kind of scary to read. In the high desert of Southern California, we often have days that are over 105*, sometimes as high as 112*, and there’s not much we can do to escape the heat around here. Even with air blowing full blast, it can be hard to get a house down under 95* in that heat.

    • I went back in and added the Fahrenheit conversions. ;) In my damnable Eurocentrism I sometimes forget the F-scale is still popular across the Pond. Same way I forget most people in America don’t bother with miles any more (or am I wrong on that one? I’m presuming kilometres are the rule nowadays…?).

      112 degrees F? That’s brutal indeed. And a dry heat?

      Do you find you’ve acclimatised to that, so when you go somewhere cooler it hits you hard for the first few days?

      • Nope, we still use miles here… lol.

        Its a very dry heat- our humidity is often in teh 5 – 10% range. I’ve lived here since I was 6 (1987) and I’m honestly still not used to the heat. Half the time in summer I feel sick, and cannot get cool enough.

        Of course once winter rolls around, its great, but the heat is gonna kill me one day! I wish I lived somewhere that averaged about 80* in summer.

  • I was born and reared in Maine, you know that northeast state next to Canada? I went off to university in Florida, then ended up living there for several years. I managed to be hospitalized twice at the point of brain swelling. It never occurred to anyone there that even a teenager from an ice flow might have problems on a Florida beach or waterway. It rather spoiled Florida for me because I was forbidden to go outside for any longer than moments after that. It truly is a crappy experience, too.

    But I still don’t want to freeze. Why are you so fascinated with how to kill us?

    • I know. I’m a ghoul, feeding on suffering just to spin out some entertainment.

      However, I like to think some of this research might help me stay alive someday.

      Because if it doesn’t, then I’ve just written all this for kicks and that makes me creepy.

      Brain swelling twice is two doses of Euww. And very distressing too, I might imagine. And traumatizing, as you note.

      So how do you find the Italian summer heat? Has your inner thermostat learned to take it on the chin?

      • I love Italian heat. This summer it’s been a bit harder because we’ve had unusual humidity, but since I’m not a teenager, I don’t go out and spend six hours at the wheel of a speedboat anymore, either. The beach and lying on it is a distant memory, so all I am dealing with is leisurely meals under the gazebo in a rose-filled garden. There’s an outdoor shower just a couple of meters away, so how hard is summer life in Umbria? Works for me.

  • Zarn

    Sorry to spoil the party, but… I had over 40 centigrade for over 7 hours when I had tuberculosis. I wasn’t balanced to say the least, but I didn’t die, nor suffered any permanent damage. Hell, the doctors were not even rushing to cool me down.

    On the other hand, maybe I did die, and this is the afterlife. Who knows?

    • Then you’re exceptionally tough, or exceptionally lucky, or both. :)

      Were you hospitalized at the time?

      • Zarn

        Yes. As I said, the doctors were quite indifferent. I don’t know weather this was because they were bad doctors (it’s a public hospital. slaraies are low, shifts are long etc. ) or that they knew better.
        I was extremely edgy and ill tempered – and this is nothing like me, that is the ususal me. I insulted and cursed everyone around, calling a nurse a pious bitch, my wife a fat retard and so on. I remeber it all. VERY embarassing.

  • Since you are interested in scientific fact and always open to learning—-

    a) We who live in the desert (Southern AZ for me) have to bundle up when the temperature drops below 70 degrees (F).

    b) Ladies do NOT sweat. They glow.

    • It’s true – ladies glow, or if they’re particularly uncouth, perspire. I would never dream of suggesting ladies sweat like men. Also, men drip, wheras ladies have a sheen on them. Big difference, of course.

      So how quickly can you acclimatise when you go travelling? How long does it take to stop shivering convulsively somewhere like, say, Chicago?

  • Yeah I know. We lost a worker on Masirah island in 1972, like that. One of the locals. He was painting a storage tank, went into heatstroke . . . was unconscious when found. They put him in a bath full of iced water but it was too late.

    • That’s grim indeed. I take it emergency services were hours away at the time?

  • Mike: I went on a press trip to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan in September, which to them is cool, pleasant weather and I was wearing enough layers for a normal trip to the Antarctic.

    Once a desert rat, no going back. That’s my last trip to a cold climate. Ever.

  • Mike, I grew up in a cold-winter place. Now I think that snow is best enjoyed through the window of a moving vehicle or from a lodge with good insulation. Now, notice how I’ve cooled off this whole discussion that was supposed to be about heat??

    • Very kind of you. :)

      How cold was cold when you were growing up, then?

  • Roseyla Lovegood

    I dont think this can be true, Sometimes when Im ill my temprature goes upto 100 degree C and I can still walk and talk and everything !

    • Obviously you’re either a smart ass or very confused. If your temperature was 100 degrees Celsius, your blood would literally be boiling. 100 C is equal to 212 degrees Fahrenheit- the temperature at which water boils.

    • I’m thinking you’re meaning 100 degrees F there, Roseyla. Unless you’re the Human Torch.

      Photo or it never happened. ;)

  • Liza

    oh mai gawd. im scared D8

  • Rin

    Does this apply to fevers, as well? The highest fever I ever had was in the 104 range. I wasn’t taken to a hospital, but my mom and doctors and I all distinctly remember that I could barely walk because, as I described it then, my legs felt like they were encased in cement. They were so heavy. I’m just fine all these years later, though.

    • It does indeed – because that’s exactly what a fever is. (“…an elevation of temperature above the normal range of 36.5–37.5 °C (98–100 °F) due to an increase in the body temperature regulatory set-point.” – Wikipedia)

      I’ve felt a little of that feeling of sudden enormous weight, born of muscle weakness, and it’s a scary thing. Sounds like you had it much worse than I.

  • Toxic

    I knew my bitching about the summer heat was good for something!

    I’m debating whether or not to show this to my boyfriend. He just started a landscaping job a few days ago and comes home each night completely blown away by the heat. I make him wear sunscreen and he drinks from a gallon container of water. But your article pointed out that if you sweat profusely in the heat, it’s a good thing. He sweats very, very easily…. and in large quantities. So I suppose he’ll be okay as long as he stays hydrated ;]

    • Toxic

      Oh, and I forgot to mention that I live in Virginia and it’s been about 97 – 100 degrees every day for the past week. We’re dying!

  • Lexi

    A couple of years ago when I was sixteen I was rushed into hospital – temperature was 40.8C and my resting heartrate was 212bpm. They put cold fluids into my IV and stripped me off and put ice around my neck. Worst experience ever (what I remember, that is).
    When they put the cold saline into my arm it felt like when you drop an ice cube onto yourself when you don’t expect it, but the sensation spread up my arm and into my heart and then all over, down my legs etc. I don’t remember much but I remember that. Apparently at one point I screamed that I was too cold (you feel cold when you have a temperature) and started tearing the IV out and pulling blankets on. I also started hallucinating that I was inside a banana peel and that a group of old ladies were sitting next to me laughing and drinking tea.

  • Hmm

    This entire article is completely incorrect.
    Everyone knows that the reason your hyperandus gland would heat up is because a chemical imbalance in the deplarindus.
    And everyone also knows that the proteins are not actually boiling in your cells and muscles, it is in fact the OG catalyst used for celular respiration that causes your cells to suffocate.
    that the only way to lower your temperature is to become a registered pirate, grab some ail and a sailboat and go motorboat the nearest large breasted woman like a true captain.

    Jeese, its sad how ignorant people on the internet are.

  • Great article. Makes perfect sense. I also like the pictures you used too.

  • There is the old saying that a woman´s threshold for pain is higher, if true wouldn´t this have to be applied to body temperature and a level of body temperature tolerable for women as compared to men. I imagine the difference is negligible and top secret military tests could perhaps prove or disprove the argument.

  • Make sure that before you even go out to participate in intense physical activity in the heat of the day (if absolutely necessary), drink plenty of water, and REMAIN HYDRATED throughout the whole day.

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  • Macey

    Okay, so how long should I stay in the sauna? It was 160-180 degrees Fahrenheit while I was in there this evening and I lasted about 20 minutes. Is there a right or wrong length of time? Typically, I am drinking water while I’m in there and I get out when I start dripping sweat and turn blotchy. Is my workout-then-sauna routine actually harming me rather than helping?

    • Gabriella Thomas

      If you turn blotchy I think you have been in the sauna too long

    • Hmmm, I’m no sauna expert, Macey, but that sounds a bit like allergic dermatitis (which I’ve suffered from before in humid conditions). I just did some Googling and found this:

      Maybe worth trying?

    • RonZombieSlayer

      Hi Macey. Have you found out any more information about this? My girlfriend just had a crazy episode from the Hot Tub & Sauna the other night and she still suffering from it she went to the ER and they said it was dehydration but she has done this four times before not being in there or a hot cl8mate.

  • Amy White

    My husband is an a/c repair man in South Carolina and he is up in attics that are 130° ~ 150°.

  • Daisy

    I get this a lot I just start feeling like I’m burning in my whole body this makes me starts to panic a lot my head starts to hurt

    • Hmm, that sounds worth checking with your local GP. Have you run this by a doctor yet?

    • That sounds scary. Have you checked with your local GP about it?

  • Chenxin

    If the last paragraph about 42 degrees is true, then I have been boiled alive before. I was sick, really sick. And the thermometer read 42 when I got to a hospital after I couldn’t bear it anymore. Before that I was in the lovely 39-41 range…

    • I’m guessing (only guessing) the thermometer was reading the temperature of your skin or the first inch or so of your body, and your core temperature (which is protected by the rest of the body in situations of extreme heat) was lower than 42 – although probably not by much, so getting to the hospital was a good move. Glad you made it through ok.

  • Amanda28

    My husband had a heat stroke at a young age, he’s been a brick layer for awhile, most of his teen and adult years. He was around 19 when he had it. He’s still laying brick, but the last few months this year have gotten to him. He’s already a sufferer of anxiety before work or any high stress type of thing. I picked him up from work today, he was trembling and hot. He had been vomiting at work today once leaving the house, he was sick before he left as usual but it usually goes away for the most part and he can continue on and make it through the day, it’s not any more humid or hot today in Louisiana than it has been and he was sick today. He gets rapid heart rate, trembles, pale and starts vomiting on days that he gets sick at work. This has happened 3-4 times this summer. Some of the symptoms in the morning he has before work sound exactly like my generalized anxiety symptoms when I have a panic attack. Do you think the heat and anxiety together could be the reason, or the heat alone? And some have told me that people with past heat stroke can become heat intolerant but he’s been working outdoors like this for along time since the heat stroke and only every now and then does this start to happen. Although it never has been this frequent and as rough as it has been this summer. Any advice or suggestions?

  • Robert Staires Jr

    I had a temp of 106.1 last night for thirty minutes or so when it went down to 105.5 after my son put ice in a towel and layer it over my head and the side of my neck carotid artery area. Within halfhour it was down to 103 and stayed for four or five hours. And I’m still here and no more brain damaged then before it all started. Be well all