Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night, not aware of anything in particular other than I am awake. It wasn’t even midnight, but there I was at that second so totally awake, that I honestly felt as though I could get up and start my day. That, though, would have been a seriously bad idea. I lay there for a few minutes, wondering what I should do. Just close my eyes and go back to sleep seemed like the obvious one, but I had a distinct feeling that that was the wrong choice. Nothing else for it then, I was going to have to get out of bed and go on a reset mission. As I started to lift my head from the pillow pain shot through me, there was my reason, my stomach, well more correctly, my intestine was playing up. Although the Psyllium has made a huge difference, it wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination a cure. That intense pain that brings tears to my eyes and at times make me wish I could just curl up and die, still arrive with all the familiar explosive power, just not quite so often. I even get the odd spell where I can go two or three days without anything more than grumbling objections to food, but something was caught and was attempting to rip open my lower right-hand side. My GP says it is a really common place for people like me to experience pain. There is a tight corner at the point where your guts change from the small to the large intestine, pure bad design if you ask me, and who are these people like me? I’ve never met one.
Before I left the bedroom, I swallowed a Morphine pill and held onto my stomach tightly, before completing my move from horizontal, to sitting in my chair. I know it’s not going to burst open and yes, I also know that putting my hand tightly over the area, isn’t going to do anything helpful if it does, but it makes me feel better. I also know, that whatever is sat in that area causing all that pain, won’t be anywhere close leaving me for at least another 5 days, note the at least. So going to the loo wasn’t going to help me in any way either. I just needed some distraction and enough time to break that tablet down and to get it into my system. A trip through the darkened house, followed by a cigarette and then a pee, should have been just long enough. The problem with that was, that I had this odd disorientated feeling swishing around in my head. Almost as though I was drunk. I made it to the kitchen and carried out my plans with no difficulty, the problem for some reason was getting out of the kitchen. I crushed my right hand against the corner of the kitchen unit by the door and tore off the precious scab that was protecting my nearly repaired knuckle.
I don’t know what it is about knuckles, but they do two things with total expertise. One is to bleed and two is to create pain. The bleeding bit isn’t that much of a problem, suck hard then apply pressure, simple, not. Neither can happen without pain, pain that you wouldn’t believe from such a tiny area. Screaming pain and intensely focused stinging, all at the same time. It is a fortunate fact that pulling faces, is just about as good as screaming out loud, as so far, I hadn’t disturbed Adam. So there I was sat in the darkest point in the house, the hall, with blood pouring out of my hand and pulling faces that belonged to a three-year-old, with a similar injury. Turning that tight corner into the bathroom, was pure single handed skill and pure agony. I know that I got up looking for distraction, well I had found it. As they say, “be careful what you ask for.” With my hand cleaned and daubed with Savlon, I headed back to bed, wondering with every push on the wheel, if I could be totally sure that it wasn’t going to bleed again. Cream carpets and sheets, don’t require or suit, blood spatter.
I didn’t wake again until the alarm sounded. It seemed somehow distant and not really part of my life when it did rouse me. I still had that odd swirling sensation that had been there earlier. Unlike when I left the bedroom during the night, morning meant that not just a dressing gown was required. I had a huge struggle getting my pyjamas and socks on. I was so disconnected from life that I found myself fighting every single movement that had to be made. I wasn’t being helped either by the fact that my Morphine must have worn off hours ago and this was clearly one of those mornings, where pain was a component. I can’t remember when I last had such a confusing start to my day. Trousers, legs and socks all seemed to be knotted into a mess I couldn’t unwind. Mind you, that wasn’t assisted by the fact I had parked up with a wheel placed over them. I just wanted to lie down again and hide from it all, but I couldn’t. I had that eternal annoying voice telling me that it was time to get up and I had no choice in the matter, it was that time of day. Over forty years since I last lived with her, and my Mother is still nagging me.
I feel so odd today, I don’t know what is causing it, or even where it is centred. It is one of those all-encompassing sensations, that for some reason, is driving me into wanting to eat. I already have, it didn’t help. Which hasn’t stopped my brain from screaming for food over and over? I don’t even know where in my mind that the idea of food fixing me is coming from, but that is what it is telling me. Eat and feel better. I’ve eaten, breakfast plus 3 bite size flapjacks, but I am yearning for more. Either that or to go back to bed, despite the fact I don’t think I would head into a deep sleep, just a dose. I hate feeling like this and clearly that is why I am coming up with stupid answers to it. I feel nauseous, tired, light-headed, I’d say I feel almost poisoned if I didn’t know better. I’ve never been poisoned so how does it feel? Probably nothing like this, but that is the description my mind has chosen. Years ago, if I had felt like this, I would have just told myself to shake it off and get on and do things. I would have done some cleaning or something to keep myself physically busy. I miss physically busy. To many that must sound like an odd thing to miss, but you quite honestly miss the oddest things as time ticks by. Right now, I wouldn’t miss the pain in my gut. It’s just getting worse, despite the fact, that at the start of the last paragraph, I took more Morphine.
I guess that today is going to be a tough and odd one, not just because I am clearly going to be in pain for the whole of it, but because of the mental mist of illness. You can’t fight these odd feeling, after last night, I’m not going seeking distraction, it will only land up with food and probably more pain. Maybe that’s why I am seeking food, as it’s the only reason I have to leave this room, unless I need the loo, and I don’t. It has been one of the odd side-effects of being in my chair. I have this desire to do. What? Who knows? I just want to do something. The freedom of feeling safe again has brought that need with it. It’s a really stupid need as well, my body would collapse within minutes, it struggles as it is just to get the end of the day. But I want to do, to be busy in a different way other than sitting here typing. I’ve thought about trying some light housework, but despite the desire, by the time I had fetched the cleaning products, I wouldn’t have the energy to do any work. There are never real answers any longer, just more questions and more madness that just trying to apply logic to, is enough to exhaust anyone. I think it is time for me to stop, to use my relaxation system and see if I can rid myself of at least the tension that all this contradiction is causing. Relax, push away the frustration of just being alive. Rest for a while as I hit the reset button and start over again, with a hopefully a different mindset.
Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 04/10/2013 – Sorting out life but when asleep
I woke this morning to find once more that I can find no real improvement on the last week, this, whatever it is really had a hold on me and isn’t in any hurry to let go. The pain I have had now for over a week in the back of my left lung is still there, not worse but just as it has…..