I am not loving this. Woke up at 3am, read, started to fall asleep, and freaked. Afraid to go to sleep? seriously? So just jerked awake every time I started to fall asleep. This morning it got worse and started shaking and panicing. Took the Ativan, and people came from VNA for regular visits, which helped. Nurse says it could be withdrawal from the oxycontin now. Since I am trying to get off it. Not loving this. Do not want to be afraid I’m really hoping this stops as I clear the oxy from my system. Everything has a down side in medicine, it seems. Rats.
Sunshine all day long. Had Create on all day, marathoning Annabel Langbein. New Zealand is gorgeous, and she cooks delicious looking food. Sound down again so can hear voices but not make out what is said. Best way to watch tv. LOL
Still tired, took two percoset and zonked right out, as well. Over and above just being tired. I was tired before the surgery thanks to the fibro, so it’s nothing new. Anyway, Gertrude and I had a lovely nap. She is so cute, and good company when she’s not hiding.
Cindy, the VNA nurse who visits, was admiring a painting I have in the living room. It was given to me by one of my homemakers who just didn’t want it. Anyway, she suggested I google the artist, just in case, but it seems it’s nothing special. But this conversation happened Friday. Saturday, the painting fell off the wall onto the back of the couch. I take this as a sign, so am going to give it to her tomorrow. You can’t ignore things like that, right? I mean, it’s been hanging there for years, brief convo about it, it falls off wall. Ooeeooee? LOLOL
Can’t say how happy such a glorious sunshiney day has made me. Spring has sprung, even if it is rather chill, and going to rain tomorrow, I think.
after surgery. Doing pretty well. Discovered that I can’t do without the oxycontin, even at the risk of panic attacks, which seem to not happen if I take it after eating more than I had been. So, less pain and feeling better in general it is. Tired again all morning, and pain, but oxy and half a giant falafel wrap later, had a good, if lazy, afternoon. Opened window for half an hour, despite it being rather chill. Tess called, and we had a long and fun conversation, which helped with being okay on my first day alone since before surgery. Enjoying all the activity. Thought I would be overwhelmed after being alone so much for so long, but Thursday had FIVE different people come, and did fine. It’s going to be hard to readjust to alone when I’m better and people stop coming. Discovered that having the tv on with the station that runs old Westerns at a level I can hear but not make out what is being said, is very comforting. Gives the illusion of not being alone without having to pay attention to the programs. Weird? Helpful!
Everyone who comes is pleasant and friendly, and I’ve had some fun conversations. Nurse said it is a joy to come here, PT guy said he likes coming here because he always leaves cheered up. How nice. Made me feel good, both of them.
Really took the day off from doing any PT stuff, just a brief walk around my space. Will do more tomorrow, is the plan. PT will only come three days this week, so have to motivate myself. I am so not good at that. Seeing surgeon Wednesday. Hope he thinks I’m doing well. So there’s a little update.
I got out of rehab for the knee surgery yesterday. They said I wasn’t ready to leave, but I didn’t feel I was making much progress. My leg has been severely swollen almost the whole time, and no one but me seems bothered by that. So here I am at home. Will have services; physical therapy twice a week, visiting nurse twice a week, my homemaker. That’s not really why I came home, though. I came home because I am terrified out of my mind. After I was able to be up and around more, I realized I was more in a ‘caring for the aged’ facility than a strict rehab facility. It freaked me out to see people sitting around waiting for someone to bring them food, to feed them if they can’t, people at the complete mercy of whoever is on shift at that time. The call-button rings incessantly, meaning someone, somewhere needs a fresh cold water, or is having major severe pain. No way to differentiate, and they are supposed to answer every call button, but believe me, that is kind of arbitrary. I realized that this is what happens if you become unable to care for yourself and have no family around to pick up the slack. Big families were good for a reason. You didn’t have to be afraid of being stuck in some ‘facility’ with no power over any aspect of your life. If you can afford to be in a facility. What happens if you can’t? The whole experience scared the hell out of me, and I just wanted to come home. But home is just me, on my own, except for those service visitors. I am about having an anxiety attack over this, and don’t know what to do about it, or is it the meds affecting my perception, or good grief, what is going to happen to me as I get older and less capable. I’m already pretty compromised due to the fibro/CFIDS, and have been skating along thinking things like, “I will do this when I am better, I will get this organized, sorted, whatever.” Will I? I’m probably not ever going to be any better than I am right now, so what are my prospects? I really am scared for the first time in my life. Just so you know, dear readers.
Struggling. Lots of pain and serious fatigue and the sleep issues are back in spades. Maybe it’s stress from contemplating knee surgery, although I’m not feeling concerned about it at all. Just the being away from home and Gertrude, maybe. Trying to remember everything I need to remember when I have little to no memory to work with.
Completely coincidentally, I just came across a fibro site while reading SLATE. It’s an Instagram site. I don’t have any real experience with Instagram, but anyway. Checking the site fibro inspiration, and one other mentioned on it Chronic Illness Cat, have brought home to me yet again how I am in denial. Pretending I am just having a bad day, or a bad spell, trying to justify to others WHY everything is a mess, or I can’t get this/that/whatever sorted, or not asking for help when I really, seriously need help. But then there’s the issue of there really isn’t anyone to ask. No one is going to come and sort this cluttery disaster I am currently living in. I always tell people that they can tell how well I’m doing by the level of clutter around me. Right now, the clutter has won the war.
This is the coffee table. More like the ‘I don’t have a clue what to do with most of this stuff, or the energy to do it, so here it sits’ table.
This is by where I normally sit. It’s all the things I don’t want to have to get up for, like pen and paper, tissues, mini-trash holder, etc. Not always able to just get up and get the scissors or whatever when I need them, so keep them handy.
Seriously, look at that desk.
One thing I discovered on these sites, is that I am not the only one with Prednisone Withdrawal problems. Some people mentioned they got through it, but I was off it for six months with no improvement. Life can be very frustrating at times. There was something else I wanted to say, but it totally escapes me at the moment. Okay, done whining for today. Thanks for reading.