On the last Friday in June, I woke up at 2 a.m. with my hair stuck to my neck and the sheets twisted around my knees. The thermostat said 70. I had turned it down an hour earlier, hoping the bedroom would shed some of the heat it holds all afternoon, the way a west-facing room in Tucson does. Ten minutes later Ray sat up, said he was freezing, and padded out to the hall to set it back to 72. He came back to bed under his fleece blanket. I lay there under the comforter we share, too hot to sleep and too tired to argue about it. That was the night I got up, sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water, and ordered the inhand cooling blanket.
I am 51. I run the front office at an elementary school, which means my day starts at 5:45 and does not really stop until the last bus leaves. Night sweats started for me around 49. Most nights I wake up hot once, sometimes twice, and then lie there listening to the fan and doing math about how many hours are left before the alarm. I have talked with my doctor about all of it. I am not going to sit here and tell you a blanket fixes hot flashes, because it does not, and anyone who says otherwise is selling something.
What I wanted was narrower than a cure. I wanted my side of the bed to feel cool when I got in, and I wanted a top layer I could pull over myself without stealing the covers off a man who sleeps cold and has opinions about the thermostat. Before the inhand blanket, my options were the shared down-alternative comforter, which is too warm from May through September, or nothing, which works until about 3 a.m. when the air finally feels good and then I am cold.
The blanket arrived in early July. Queen size, 90 by 90 inches, one single layer, with nylon cooling fabric on the front side. It is thin, closer to a good sheet than to a comforter, and it is machine washable, which mattered to me more than any claim on the package. I have bought things labeled cooling before. Most of them feel cool for the ten minutes it takes to notice, and then they are just fabric again. I figured this would be the same.
The first night I folded it in half lengthwise and laid it over my half of the queen bed, on top of the sheet, with Ray's fleece on his side. I got in and put my hand flat on it. It was cool. Not cold like an ice pack, just cooler than the room, the way a tile floor is cooler than the air. I pulled it up to my shoulders and waited to be disappointed.
It does not stay cold all night. What it does is give me a cool surface to land on when I first get in, and that is the part I kept missing.
If your side of the bed runs hot while his runs cold, this is what I landed on
Queen size, 90 by 90 inches, one single layer, machine washable. I fold mine in half so it covers only my half of the bed. Today's price is on the listing.
Amazon Check Today's Price on Amazon →That setup has not changed since. The inhand blanket lives on my half of the bed, folded in half so it is two layers over me and none over Ray. It is my top layer, not a replacement for anything. On a normal night I get in, feel that first cool hit, and I am asleep before it wears off. On a bad night I wake up at 1 or 2, throw it off, let the air hit me, and pull it back on when I start to cool down. That sounds small. It is the difference between lying there stewing and actually getting back to sleep.
Here is the part I would want to know if I were you. It warms up. The cool feeling lasts through the time it takes me to fall asleep, and after that it behaves like a light blanket, which is all it is. I have never woken up at 4 a.m. and found it cold. If you are looking for something that stays chilly for eight hours, this is not that, and I do not think anything is. My small Honeywell TurboForce fan on the nightstand does more for the middle of the night than the blanket does, and I still bump it from low to medium when I feel one coming on.
Washing is simpler than I expected. It goes in on Saturday with the sheets and I put it straight back on the bed. It has been through the machine more times than I can count since July and it has not pilled or gone limp. Ray has never once tried to steal it, which tells you something about how it feels to a person who likes a heavy blanket.
The rest of the bedroom got adjusted around it. My nightgown is a light bamboo viscose one that dries faster than the cotton t-shirts I used to sleep in, and my pillow has a cooler side I flip to first. Neither of those things is doing anything dramatic. They just remove small annoyances so the blanket and the fan can do their jobs.
I still have nights. Two weeks ago I was up at 2:40 with my heart going and the sheets damp, and I stood in front of the fan for a while before I got back in. I am not going to pretend a blanket stopped that. What changed is the bed itself. It stopped being a place where I lay awake and got angrier. When I get in now, my side is cool and my husband has his own covers, and most nights that is enough to get me to sleep before my brain starts its list.
What I'd Tell You If We Were Sitting at My Kitchen Table
First, get your own top layer instead of negotiating over one comforter. That is the whole trick, and it works with any blanket, not just this one. Second, buy the size that covers your half of the bed, not the whole bed. I have a queen blanket on a queen bed and I fold it, so Ray's side stays his. Third, give it a week before you decide. The first night feels cool and strange. By the fourth night you stop noticing it, which is the point.
And talk to your doctor about the hot flashes themselves. Mine are not something a bedding purchase solves, and I would not want anyone reading this to think I am saying it does. What I am saying is that my side of the bed stopped being the worst part of my night, and that was worth it to me.
A cooler side of the bed, for people whose partner sleeps cold
Queen, 90 by 90 inches, single layer nylon on the face, machine washable. Mine has been on the bed every night since early July.
Amazon See the inhand Cooling Blanket on Amazon →