Apr. 10th, 2017

quirkytizzy: (Default)
Gonzo, I replied directly to your comment on the earlier entry, but I screened it. Are you able to see it?

Some mornings time is a guessing game. When the mania began to hit its peak and I was up between 1 and 2 AM, I unplugged the clock. The early morning hours, blinking in red, seemed a dangerous and depressing warning sign. NOW, as the wake up times shift something closer to normal, I sometimes wake up and go "Oh god, please don't let it be 2:30 AM. That's too early."

Most mornings I am surprised to find it is closer to 5:30 AM, which is acceptable to me. If I step out and hear the birds chirping, even in complete darkness, then I am reassured. It is at least 5:30 AM then.

Now with the dr appts and all that piling up week by week, maybe I ought to plug the clock back in. It has an alarm that could wake the dead and raise armies of zombies within the first two blares - of which I'd need, since medicated sleep can be ridiculously deep sleep.

(If you're lucky, at least.)

It's funny the things you notice when you are outside on your balcony so early in the morning. A neighbor across the way has a new curtain - a deep maroon one. Another one has either moved out or moved his computer (possibly a lava lamp?), as I can no longer see the slow, strobing colors of red, blue, purple and green through the window. Another leaves their curtain open to comfortably sleep through the still-chill air of early spring. I see who leaves early every morning, who comes home in the early mornings. On the weekends, I notice those whose have had too much to drink and those who obviously haven't had ENOUGH to drink.

It's the most curious sort of voyeurism. I do much the same in the hospital, endlessly staring out windows, trying to come up with all sorts of little games to entertain myself. Granted, it usually involves cars instead of curtains, but the idea is the same.

My father said that meditation has helped greatly with his chronic pain and that he will sending what has been most helpful for him. I am somewhat skeptical. But at this point, I am willing to try anything that doesn't include (1) chasing around for narcotics or (2) running me another 80 million doctor's appointments. Besides, everyone says meditation helps something for them.

They can't all be wrong, can they?

I know diet can help, but my food stamps have expired and I just haven't had the energy to sit for four hours in a bright, cramped waiting room stuffed with loudspeakers and crying babies. Another thing I have to dig deep for the energy for - and be willing to pay the price of two days straight of sleep for.

Just haven't had it in me to do that yet. So we've been doing food pantry runs. I'm not so much following the renal diet right now as I am just avoiding the really bad foods.

You work with what 'ya got, right? And if "what you got" is enough food to have TWO servings of Tuna Helper, then by god, be ecstatic, because that's probably the best you're getting this week.

(Jesse's amazing at spicing things, though. He makes that shit taste goooood.)

6:18 AM. Given the time, I'd go right back to bed. But I've a therapy appointment at 9...and dear lord, I NEED therapy right now. I've got so little energy it's likely I'll fall asleep in the waiting room.

Maybe it'll be enough of a cat nap. Probably not, but one can always hope. I was thinking that perhaps I was paying the price for an active day of chore and errand running yesterday, but as the last year has unfolded, I'm beginning to realize the fatigue really doesn't care what I do or don't do. It's at best unpredictable (meaning maybe, just maaaaybe today is the day I CAN do chores and errands) and at worst, static and miserable for weeks on end.

I'll try taking a bath. It has a 50/50 chance of either waking me up entirely or else knocking me on my ass, but at least I'll smell better and my joints will ache less.

(I've long since given up on showering. I never have the extra spoons - nor the trust in my physical stability under hot water - to stand for 10 minutes without toppling over.)


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