Just the perfect end to a mega-stress day, which I thought had already been topped off nicely by yet another migraine.
I fell asleep about 4.30pm, thanks to migraine meds, including one of my hated injections (they hurt so much, but the migraine without injection is worse), woke up about 7, migraine still lurking. Not in a very good mood. Had a ranty blog session (see previous post) (or not!) Managed to crawl out of my pit at just after 9pm, to watch TV and curl up with Ben on our over-large sofa (sounds nice, but I’m never comfortable lately, even stuffed full of Oramorph and the heat pad on), and we came back to bed at about 11, our usual time.
Poor Ben falls asleep immediately (he’s either working or looking after me and our three cats from the second he wakes up til the second his head hits the pillow, often sooner) whilst I half-lie in bed, propped up with pillows, catching up on crappy TV while I’m waiting for my pain meds to kick in, and to feel sleepy-tired. I get insomnia. And pain, restless legs, and multiple other issues can all stop me from sleeping, too.
So, I dozed off. Yay. Always a bonus at night. I wake up just before 2, and need a wee. Drag self to bathroom. Get to bathroom, realise my guts are complaining. Small episode of splurts. Ok, no biggie. I get one of my sexy incontinence pads out just in case, change my knickers for equally sexy Bridget-Jones Big Pants, and stick the pad in place. Back to bed.
Get to bed, take two of my anti-shit yourself meds, turn off the light, go to turn over and tuck down, and……no! Bottom alert! Renewed Splurt Attack imminent! This is one of the “other issues” that can and does regularly stop me from sleeping.
So here I am, stuck on the loo, waiting for it to stop. Actually, this isn’t as hellish as it can be, so maybe I should have thought of a more suitable title. It was going to be Shitting On The Dock Of The Bay, because I like making puns on songs and I couldn’t think of anything else with “sitting” in the title, but I didn’t think it was very original. Ideas, anyone?
The annoying thing is that I know what’s done it. I had until yesterday afternoon to get a letter in to the council, and I had to push myself to put it together. I did an awful job of it. My brain was sticky and cloudy. I couldn’t process my thoughts or access my memory properly. I forgot all the things I had planned to say. My body objected violently to sitting in my supposedly comfortable, orthopaedically designed office chair. Everything hurt.
And then my laptop suddenly decided it had no email installed on it. Then it decided it DID have email, but I wasn’t allowed to use it. Then I couldn’t get some photos I needed to put into the letter to rotate so they were the right way up. Nothing like a professional impression, giving someone a picture that needs rotating by 90 degrees (why isn’t there a degree symbol on my ipad??) to look at. I had to invent so many complicated ways round this stupid email problem that my stress levels went through the roof. I ended writing this very formal letter in an email from my ipad – but all the documents I needed to attach were in the laptop and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to master even the basics of Pages on my ‘pad. General nightmare. Should have taken me no more than 2 hours, tops, to put this thing together in a professional way, and I screwed up Good job I started it when I did, at 10am. I’ve usually fallen back to sleep again by then, but this morning I was too wound up. I was also stuffed full of Wake Me Up stuff – caffeine, my magic phenylalanine capsules, CoQ10, B Vits, ginseng, you name it. I’d have never got it (half) done by 4 otherwise. Ben maintained my caffeine supply throughout. Rap music kept my energy up, too. I find I can usually access the sharper, wittier parts of my brain if I’m mentally rocking along to a powerful bassline with aggressively delivered lyrics.
But not today. No. Today, every time Windows 8.1 decided to erect another unexpected obstacle, my stress levels rose higher and higher, until they were screaming in my head.
And stress plays havoc with my backside every time. If it isn’t an IBS flare, it’s the response my chemo-damaged bowel and bladder nerves produce, possibly as a result of inflammation caused by stress, I don’t know. I DO know I thought I’d already paid for the stress with the massive migraine token earlier tonight, but apparently not. Not fair! It was one that’s been lurking for a few days that I was “managing” with my migraine tablets, but it suddenly gathered force like a tornado and just went BOOM. I was in the middle of checking that someone I’d copied the emails to had actually received them, talking to him on the phone, and suddenly I’m cutting the conversation short with, “Sorry, got to go, goinbesick.” “Lovely,” he said faintly, as I hung up on him and made for the bathroom. I must apologise to the poor man.
So I thought I’d “paid” for this small act of normality, writing one poxy letter, but evidently I was wrong there. I really never learn, do I? I’m supposed to take my anti-shit youselfs every day. But I’m on morphine and codeine too, both of which make me revoltingly constipated, so if I took the Loperamide every day as prescribed, I fear I may never poo again. But really, you’d think I’d know enough by now to have thought to pre-empt the inevitable stress effect by taking some earlier today. But I was anxious and worried about the letter, not thinking clearly, and it didn’t occur to me.
(Sigh) Something else to add to the list of What To Do when things happen and mess my thought processes up to the point that I can’t remember how to manage my symptoms. The only thing is that I have to remember then is that there’s a list to look at, and remember where I’ve put the damn thing.
Hmmmm. Been here an hour now. Has it stopped? Dare I risk it? I desperately want to be in bed. Sitting on the loo hurts my legs and my back and my hips.
And I thought the next thing I’d be writing was Part Two of the previous post!