RSS

Tag Archives: pain

Jet plane, night 2, day 3

Recap of night 1, day 2.

I stayed up reading last night until about 1 am, then fell asleep. Then I was up at 5:45 am and that was it, I was up for the day. I tried to fall back asleep, but couldn’t. I finally got out of bed at 7:30 and fed the dogs, then took them out. Then I went back to bed but was too restless to even doze. I had to be out of the house by 9:30 for my massage, so I just gave up and got dressed at 8:30.

I thought the massage would be good and relaxing–since I did ask for a relaxing massage and not trigger point–but I kind of felt icky and my head felt real stuffy and swollen when I was on my stomach. And my face felt swollen in the face rest thingy. Afterward I was so tired that I had trouble driving home. Then I had to feed the dogs their mid-day meal and take them out. I had hoped to rest after that, but it didn’t work out. I tried reading and watching TV, but the dogs kept wanting to go out so I kept having to get up.

On and off I IM’d with Hub as he was running errands and getting things ready for the wedding. He’s getting kind of irritated with his father at this point. They don’t really get along too well on a regular basis, and their politics are polar opposite. So Hub is feeling edgy and unhappy. He still has to get through tomorrow without going crazy, then tomorrow night late he gets on the plane to come home overnight.

Okay, so I did the dinner thing and fed the dogs and retrieved a wedding invitation from my mailbox from my cousin. I went to check in on my father to see if he got his invitation, then to remind him he needed to try on his suit, in case he needed to buy a new one. Then I came home, I took the dogs out, did their after dinner snacky, took them out again, then sat down to read and play some games on my iPad. I was able to stretch out the evening so I only had to take the dogs out again at 10pm before bedtime. So at 10pm I take them downstairs and outside. One goes one way, the other goes the other way, so I stand just off the deck on our small paver patio to wait for them. Then I see Le Moo sniffing at something on the patio about 3 feet away from me…and I step closer to take another look. It’s cicada time here, so I was thinking it was a live cicada and she was going to try to eat it–experience speaking here–and I was prepared to admonish her. And then I realized it wasn’t a cicada.

It was a goddamn fucking snake.

On my patio, right off my deck, right outside my back door. Last Friday I beat a smaller snake to death out in the yard after I nearly walked on it while picking up dog poop. Fortunately, I spotted it while still about six inches away and I hotfooted it back to the house and grabbed the hard metal rake that had been sitting on the deck. I found the snake in the yard again–out toward the back closer to the fence and the “woods” back there–and I beat that fucker to death. It took me like five minutes because the damn thing wouldn’t die…I think because there are ruts in the grass out there so I wasn’t getting good contact with it. When I was sure it was dead I used the rake to pick it up and I threw it out over the fence into the brush. I hurt my arms, my back, and the back of my legs trying to kill it.

Okay, so back to tonight. The damn snake is on the patio, brazen as you please, bigger than the one from Friday–at least 2 feet long–head up, glaring at Le Moo. Le Moo starts backing away and I order her to go up onto the deck. But Butthead is out on the other side of the snake in the yard, peeing, and she finishes and comes running back and she always runs on the patio. And of course she has to run right past the snake, which she does, but then she does a double-take and goes back… and I’m screaming at her to get away from the damn snake and she’s sniffing right at it because she’s STOOPID. So I finally order her away and both dogs into the house, and I rush into the garage to get a shovel…but by the time I get back outside the fucker is GONE. So now it’s either in the bushes right up against the house and next to the patio, or it’s in the grass somewhere.

So now I gotta go back out there tomorrow, wondering where it is. Is it lurking in the bushes? In the grass? Is it gonna jump out and BITE ME or the dogs? I don’t like killing things. Friday was the first time I’d ever killed a snake…or probably anything other than ants and spiders. Before that, Hub had killed two of them since we’ve lived in this house. We’ve never had snake problems before we moved here. I’m not happy about killing anything. But…

I hate snakes.

I have nightmares about snakes attacking me and biting me and all kindsa shit. I’m NOT good with snakes in my yard. Yes, I know they keep rodents away. Yes, I understand that the snakes in my yard are not likely to be venomous. Yes, I even understand they are not likely to actually bite unless threatened… but guys, it’s a goddamn snake and I am afraid of snakes. I’d rather let the owls and the hawks take care of the rodents and let the snakes go somewhere else. ANYWHERE ELSE. AWAY FROM HERE.

I ordered snake repellent from Amazon, to be delivered sometime tomorrow. It’s not likely to help, I’m aware, but I’m desperate to try anything to keep these things away from the house. I mean hey, live your life out there in the woods Snakey-snakey…just not here in my yard or on my patio or in the goddamn bushes next to my house.

So yeah, day 3 is done. I am managing but I’m damn tired. And I’m not looking forward to the snake nightmares tonight, or the anxiety of watching out for snakes tomorrow in real life. Ugh,

Tomorrow’s notes.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Jet plane, night 1 day 2

Day 1 recap.

Last night could have been worse, I guess. I stayed up later than usual–about 1am–but by then I was so tired from being up at 3am and on the going mostly since then that I was able to doze off for a couple of hours at 1. Then I slept fitfully after that, waking up just before my alarm time to feed the dogs. I hit snooze and laid in bed a bit longer…until Butthead woke up and went over to Hub’s side of the bed and began poking at the comforter. I had to try to explain to her that he wasn’t there (did she think he snuck in overnight sometime and she didn’t notice??), but she didn’t seem convinced. It took me a few minutes to get her to follow me downstairs so I could feed her and Le Moo breakfast. After their breakfast and a trip outside, I went back upstairs to bed and dozed for another hour or so.

Today I pretty much distracted myself by chopping and sauteeing a ton of mushrooms to add to my soup when I nuke it for lunch. Then I ate lunch and read a book. I found a Gidget marathon on television, which I pretty much left on all day and only turned off about ten minutes ago and only because it ENDED. At some point after lunch I tried to make my (in)famous peanut butter cookies for the brother who installed my floodlight cam, but I used low fat peanut butter (at his request) instead of regular peanut butter and the cookies came out flat. I have no idea what the issue was, but my brother said they still tasted good, they were just flat instead of puffy. When I took the bags of cookies over to my father’s house for my brother, I stayed for a while to talk about some stuff with Dad. Then we took pictures of some junk he wanted to try to sell on Craigslist (I hate CL) and I came home and listed them. Then I sent some curse-filled email responses to some spammers who responded almost immediately to one of the listings. So that was fun.

Then I read another book and half-watched/half-listened to more episodes of Gidget until it was time for dinner. Fed the dogs, outed the dogs, cleaned up after the dogs’ outing, then made myself some dinner. Half leftovers, half food I cooked myself. While I was eating, my brother sent me a text with a picture of a teeny tiny baby deer that was curled up next to his house. He spotted it while he was mowing and was concerned it was injured.

babydeeronthelawn

By the time Dad and Brother went inside to find a phone number for animal control and then returned outside, the little booger had disappeared. I suspect it was hiding there in the “tall” grass waiting until the riding mower stopped and the stupid people disappeared. We have a pretty big herd of deer living in our back property, so I assume this little baby got separated and was waiting for mama to return for it.

At this point, I’m tucked in upstairs after taking the dogs out a couple of more times during the evening. The hall lights are on, the bedroom door is locked, the dogs have finally settled in. I’m pretty sure both dogs are confused as to where Hub is, but no matter how much I explain they just give me the same look. Right now I’m tired and in some pain from all the extra activity, but I’m managing.

I’ve heard from Hub a couple of times today. He didn’t sleep well last night–he never does away from home–and his schedule today with his father seemed…odd. They “ran errands” and did a little bit of touristy site-seeing of some beaches. His father was SO hyped to have Hub out there to visit, but they don’t seem to be doing much. And Hub is counting the days to getting back home more than I am. Tomorrow evening is the wedding, so they won’t be doing much else other than that.

I’ve got another book here with me and I’ve got the nightly news on TV. I might rent or catch a movie on TV after the news until I’m too tired to stay awake anymore. Last night I caught the tail end/hour of YaYa Sisiterhood because I couldn’t find anything else. Tonight…well who knows? Tomorrow I go to see my massage therapist in the morning, but I’m getting a RELAXING massage instead of trigger point. Something to look forward to.

Day 2 completed, night 1 completed. I’m almost halfway through. I can do this.

Tomorrow’s low-down.

 
 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Purpose and control

I was watching television and a character said he became a doctor because it was always his way to try to control things. Being a doctor made him feel he was in control of his life and his patients’ lives.

I was sitting there watching and it was like one of those AHA! moments. I started wondering if my fiction writing (which I’d been doing since I was a pre-teen) was my way of controlling things in my life. Or finding a way to have control in a world where I really had no control, especially when I first became sick…which is when I started intensely on my writing career and when I was first published.

When I talked about this with T, it also made sense as to why I haven’t been able to write very much in the last few years. I’ve worked so hard to release my idea of controlling everything, and so my default way of writing–and seeing my writing–is no longer the same. T said she could see exactly what I was dealing with, and she felt the discovery was a very interesting and insightful one. I’m not sure how I will be able to write again, but T thinks I’ll find a way. I certainly don’t want to go backward in order to find my ability to write again, but as I am now, I feel like my solace in writing is gone. I used to be able to disappear into my books and create lives and worlds where everything was the way I wanted it to be. But now, where I see that control really is an illusion–even though I’m still working on that in my own life–I’m not sure how to create stories the way I used to.

At the moment, I even feel like I’m struggling to get my ideas across in this post. I feel jumbled and like the words I want are not here. It’s sad and disappointing right now. The thing that I always went to feels like it’s well and truly gone. I mean, I know I haven’t worked on any of my books in recent years, nor have I really started anything new of note, but I guess I thought it would still be there to save me.

It sounds dramatic, but really my writing did save me when I got sick. There were days I never made it out of bed except to go to the bathroom, and yet those were the days where I wrote my books. Those were the most productive days of my writing career. Through pain and vertigo and fatigue…I wrote my books. I wrote deep into the night, hours and hours at a time, and slept through until noon. I would eat lunch and then go back to my writing. It kept me sane, it gave me a life to live when I couldn’t live my own life. My hands would cramp, my arms would ache (I wrote my books in longhand), my neck would hurt…but I kept writing. That was the first time I ever wrote a full-length book, and it was the first time I persisted in finding a publisher for that book.

And here I am, in need of that solace, and unable to find it.

I’m not the same person I was, no question about it. I just don’t know how to be the person I am and still have the purpose I had then.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Finding connections

I wasn’t sure what to do this year about mother’s day. Last year I sent Hub off to his mother’s house without me, and I spent part of the day with my brother and his then wife (now ex-wife). I talked with T about this on Friday, because I feel some guilt about not going to my mother-in-law’s to be with her, but I just am not ready yet this year. I know she understands–as does Hub–but I am at heart a people-pleaser, and so the guilt sat heavy with me. In the end, though, I couldn’t make myself go.

My father had mentioned to me Friday evening that he was going to go to the cemetery to visit my mother’s grave and he asked if I wanted to go. I didn’t answer him at that point, but Sunday morning when I saw him, he brought it up again. He said he knew it made me feel “uncomfortable”, but he wanted to make the offer for me to join him. I tried to be gentle in responding when I said to him, “I don’t feel uncomfortable about going, but the truth is, I don’t feel a connection to Mom there. I don’t feel it to Nana and Papa, either…it doesn’t work that way for me.” (my grandparents are buried in the plots next to my mother). For real, I feel more of a connection to my mother in her “den” closet, where she had a bunch of books stashed on a bookshelf…gardening, trees, cookbooks…I stumbled on them at one point and ended up crying. Because that’s my mother. The cemetery is just a marker for her physical body’s last resting place, but it has no history for me with her. My father only said OK and that he was okay to go alone, which I had to trust was true.

Somewhere around ten a.m., I texted my brother (the one with the ex-wife) to see what he was doing that afternoon. He said “nothing”, so I asked if he wanted to do something. What I really wanted to do was go back to the nursery where Mom and I used to go all the time, and where he and I went after she died. I also offered up the opportunity for him to come to my house to help me bake peanut butter cookies, which he (and my other brother) scarf up as fast as I can make them. His response was a preference to go to the garden center, so in some corner of my mind I knew it was the right thing to do. Even Hub said as much when I told him my plans for the afternoon while he was with his mother…he said my mom would be happy to know I was spending time there with my brother.

So after lunch, my brother and I set out for the nursery, which is about 20 minutes away. We talked a lot in the car about how he’s been doing with his depression and his medication, as well as some other health issues he’s dealing with. But once at the nursery, we talked about plants. We walked around the big place for about two hours–which leaves me exhausted and in pain today unfortunately–just chattering and touching plants and gagging over the high prices. We bought absolutely nothing, but it was worth the time and energy and pain, because it felt right. This brother and I, we have always been the closest of the siblings–with the exception of his married life where he withdrew from the whole family…and even then I tried to stay in touch with him as much as it was possible–so this connection felt good to renew. I know he’s struggling with his depression and his newly single life and his desire for a partner and…well, lots of stuff. And part of today was to remind him that he’s not alone. Doing that for my mom and for him made the day work for me.

I miss my mother so terribly. Every day. I feel like my identity without her has been lost. I don’t know how to get it back…yet. I’m still searching, and maybe someday I’ll find my purpose again.

I described (to T and a friend) the run-up to mother’s day as “being poked with a cattle prod when you’re already on fire”…and it’s true. That’s so much how I felt with all the television commercials and the holiday displays in all the stores and the radio commercials and facebook and instagram and on and on. I worry that it will always feel this way, this painful, this sad, this lost. Living without my mom has changed my life and changed me at my core. I don’t know how to adjust to that, or that adjustment is even possible. Somehow, I have to find a way forward. Last night I watched Bad Moms on television while Hub was still at his mother’s. There’s a point in the movie where Mila Kunis is talking to her movie daughter and she basically says, “I know you can make it through this because I’m your mother and I know what you’re made of.” It was such a dumb, funny, stupid, crazy movie, but that scene and those words (which I can’t remember exactly) really hit me hard. I know my mother believed in me and believed in my strength and my ability to persist. I hope I can find a way to continue to make her proud in that aspect as I try to find my way.


 

As a minor update, I finished all my bactrim pills successfully. I don’t know how much I feel better, but so far it seems the smell is gone, so I take that as success. I wasn’t too much more itchy the last day and half, so that was good. My stomach isn’t entirely back to normal yet, but I know the bactrim stays in your system for several days following the last pill. So hopefully another couple of days and my stomach will be better.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Bactrim blues

So I’ve taken six pills so far for what my doctor diagnosed as a sinus infection.  I wanted to make note of what has been happening with the bactrim, at least for my future reference. Here’s what my historical experience prepared me for:

Upon getting my ABs, I come home and go look up my blog post from when I had to take these particular ABs, and I apparently have nausea, bad taste in my mouth, and dry mouth (editing to add, and dry/itchy eyes near to the end of the course of ABs) to look forward to for ten days at least. Two pills a day over ten days.

I’m definitely getting a lot of heartburn/acid reflux. My appetite is nil and the nausea is there for sure. My stomach hurts almost all the time, but that could also be from the acid reflux/heartburn. What is also a bit distressing is that last night before dinner (after the 4th pill at 9:30am that morning), I had a really bad hot flush on my face and ear, and I had anxiety. I’m not sure if the anxiety came from the hot flush or from the ABs. So I took another pill this morning at about the same time as yesterday…and tonight the hot flush started again before dinner. I didn’t even wait this time, I just got a cold pack and put it on my face until I was pretty well frozen. I didn’t get the anxiety, but I also stopped the hot flush early on, so maybe I stopped the anxiety before it started.

There’s no discernible change in the smell issue, yet. I’ve been trying to use different essential oils to distract myself from the smell (I just realized I had some good oils downstairs I could use…brown sugar and vanilla!), but it doesn’t last long.

Last night we invited my father over for dinner since my brother (the one that lives with him) is out of town for several days. Then tonight we went out for burgers with him and my other brother. Tomorrow Dad’s going to the grocery store with us in the morning, basically because he’s tired of being stuck in the house alone. He and I talked about how hard it is to be alone in the house all the time (while his house-mate is out of town), and I told him how concerned I am about being alone when Hub goes away. I told him I might end up sleeping there at night and he said if I did then they would be able to help me with the dogs in the early morning hours. I said I’d let him know. I’ve been going out for walks every day and when I get to his house, I call him to tell him to send his dog into the yard with us…sometimes he comes out to chat at that point. It’s hard because I used to do this to go hang out with Mom…and it’s not as easy to find things to talk about with Dad all the time. But I’m trying t keep up with the walking outside, so if he wants to chat with me he’ll have the opportunity.

I’m really tired of feeling so crappy. I want to regain my energy. I want to move forward.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

What am I going to do

I’m still feeling lousy. There are days when I barely have the energy to do anything, including feed myself. I force myself to get up, do things, take care of the dogs and myself. In between, I rest. I get outside with the dogs for a 10-20 minute stroll every day around the yard as the weather allows so I am at least moving somewhat. I’ve read a couple of books and I’m trying to do some crocheting in small doses.

But I feel lousy. My imbalance, the nausea, heartburn, fatigue, pain…it’s all still here. Sleeplessness, heat intolerance…I’m hot and cold all the time. Sometimes I feel sweaty when there’s no sweat. Sometimes my hands and feet are sweaty and clammy. Today I have tingling in my fingers and face. And always the pain in various parts of my body. Both shoulders are bad, and for one of them I can’t lift my arm up above shoulder height. I’m eating small amounts of food and feeling full, then feeling hungry again later. Rinse and repeat when I eat again…small amounts of food and feeling full, then hungry again.

Our health insurance doesn’t kick in again until May 1st. Even so, the last time(s) I saw my doctor, she found nothing troubling. It could still be grief. I’m sad a lot, but I’m also exhausted a lot. Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m sad or tired. This stuff has all been going on since the beginning of February. It doesn’t seem as if it’s going away…it’s coming up on three months. I can’t imagine it’s just going to disappear anytime soon.

As if I didn’t have enough to think about, the biggest issue looming is that Hub is flying to California soon for his sister’s wedding. He’s going to be gone for five days. And I’m going to be alone, having to take care of myself and the dogs 24/7 for those days. I’m going to be in this big stupid house all by myself, day and night, for five days. I’m going to have to be up early to feed the dogs, and then I’m going to have to be up and alert late to make sure they get out at night before bed. And then I’m going to be alone overnight in the darkness. I haven’t been alone like this since before I first got sick over 17 years ago. The last time Hub traveled–maybe eight years ago–I stayed with my parents with the dog we had at that time so they could help me.

But it’s different now. My mother is gone, and she’s the one who kept everything in line in their house. My heat intolerance is bad and Dad still keeps their house too hot for me, so I’ll feel horrible all day and not sleep at night. Butthead is difficult to keep track of, and I can’t trust my father or my brother to make sure she’s not eating things in the yard late at night or early in the morning.  The friends I have who are local have their own lives, work, families, pets, I can’t ask them to come help me. I considered hiring someone, but having a stranger in the house while I’m here alone is frightening to me. I’ve considered staying up all night and sleeping all day, but the dogs go out multiple times during the day so I’d have to be awake and dressed to do that repeatedly during daylight hours. That means no sleep at night and basically no sleep during the day. I could try to sleep at night but being alone in the house overnight is scary for me and I’m not sure I’ll sleep. Not sleeping will, of course, make everything worse.

This all makes me feel like an invalid. But I’m honestly afraid to be alone 24/7 for five days. I don’t know how I’ll deal with pain and anxiety and exhaustion without any support or reprieve from taking care of the dogs and myself. There are moments when I think I will be able to handle it, and then there are moments when I am positive I won’t be able to handle it. The truth will probably live somewhere in between, in the end. I have avoided thinking about this since February, when Hub bought his tickets, but it’s coming too soon for me to keep pushing it aside.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

March not better

I thought February was bad. March has been worse.

I’m feeling so shitty, I can’t even. Period. I spend much of my days fighting the nausea and the fatigue…I’m exhausted before I get going. And now…and now, my imbalance is back in a big way. I’m struggling to walk without falling over, and I’m back to touching walls and handrails and tables and whatever in order to keep myself stable. This is a huge slide backward for me, as I haven’t had this kind of imbalance in quite some time.

I went back to the doctor AGAIN because I’m still exhausted and I’m still nauseated. She told me I was acting better this time versus the last visit, but she’s still thinking I have a virus that I need to just “wait out”. She sent me for more blood work (ANA, rheumatoid arthritis, lyme, iron, b12), but everything came back normal. My b12 is a tad on the low side for my history but still in the normal range. I’ve ordered my b12 sublingual pills and will start them ASAP. Maybe it’s that, maybe it’s stress and grief, maybe it’s something else. I have no idea and apparently neither does my doctor. She said to drink more water and walk outside for 20-30 minutes a day. She says dehydration can cause nausea–and maybe it can–but my drinking habits haven’t altered much. Except now I feel like shit and so I don’t want to do anything, including drink. If I go walk outside my allergies will get worse and I’ll have more breathing trouble and more snot and more post-nasal drip and more nausea. The doctor didn’t care for that and told me to do it anyway, that being outside and walking will make me feel better and get rid of my fatigue. I’m not eating much because I’m so nauseated all the time. I rush through eating what I can before I feel like I can’t put anything else in my mouth at both lunch and dinner, then I leave my dishes in the sink and go back to the couch.

I spend most of my days on the couch, barely even bothering to look at my computer. I try to stay upright, but I’m so exhausted all the time that I end up stretched out and wishing that the day was just over. I don’t know why I wish for that because at this point tomorrow will be much of the same. I feel like I’m sliding into this despair of thinking that I’ll never feel better. That it will always be like this. I am trying to push past the exhaustion and do stuff–I did three loads of laundry on Sunday–in the hopes that if I ignore what’s going on it will go away. But by the time I do anything, I feel this crushing fatigue again and I end up on the couch. Or in bed.

Sleeping is a negatory. I try to sleep but it doesn’t work, and when I wake up in the morning I can hardly haul myself out of bed. I don’t feel rested or refreshed or like I even closed my eyes. I want to cry but I’m too fucking tired to cry.

I was supposed to go see my massage therapist on the 14th but our local snow canceled that appointment. I was also scheduled to go tomorrow morning, but I literally got an email at 9:30pm saying she’s sick and has to cancel. And for sure I’m grateful because I do NOT want to get sick and it sounds like she has the flu, but I’m so disappointed. For one thing, I was hoping some trigger point release would help with my imbalance and nausea (hoping, though not confident)…for another thing, getting onto her schedule is a bitch and even though I rushed I struggled to get back onto her calendar. It’ll be two weeks before I can get back in to see her, which might not be horrible because if she DOES have the flu I wouldn’t want to be back in her “hands” too soon. But it’s hard to miss appointment after appointment when I’m feeling so poorly. Hub tried to send me a link to a list of massage therapists in the area, but none of them do trigger point AND it’s hard to just find a new massage therapist. It’s like a mental therapist…you have a relationship built up. It’s not so easy to walk into someone’s space and get naked and let them rub you for an hour.

I see T on Friday, which is the day after the one year anniversary of my mother’s passing. Just happens to be how it worked out. Considering how things are going at the moment, it’s going to be a long, sobby appointment.

I can’t stand this constant nausea. Every time I swallow I feel sick. Every time I move I’m wobbly and off balance and that makes the nausea worse. If I didn’t have the dogs, I’d be in bed all day. I gave thought to going back to bed after lunch today because Butthead had peed and pooped after HER lunch so I knew she’d be okay for a while, but I didn’t want to give in. I’ve been in that place where I didn’t get out of bed for weeks (with my prilosec fever) and that’s a bad road to head down. It only makes me weaker and makes me feel worse.

Hub’s birthday dinner with his family is this coming weekend. I don’t know how I’m going to go…by 3pm, I’m so exhausted I can barely sit at our kitchen table for dinner, how am I going to get out and go to a restaurant and be “on” for his family? For hours… We didn’t go out on his birthday because I couldn’t get up the energy. We didn’t go donate the dolls and bears I crocheted to the police station because I didn’t have the energy to leave the house.

I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know what path to take. I don’t know how to do anything right now.

 

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,