It’s 4 A.M. and my body is trying to kill me

I went to bed last night feeling dead tired and was very much ready for sleep. I had been in pain all day thanks to weather changes waking up old back injuries.

Nestled in, three ibuprofen tablets in my system, perfect temperature in the room, gentle music playing to lull me to sleep. I fall asleep. Four hours later, I’m wide awake. My back is killing me again. I can barely turn over due to the pain. I’m still sleepy and tired. I need to sleep. I can’t get comfortable. I’m in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever owned (a tempurpedic) and it isn’t working for me. I’ve had pain meds, I’ve stretched my back muscles, I’ve used heat, I’ve used cold, I even let the shower water pulse on my back. No relief.

My poor body has been through way too much in this life. It needs a break. No more autoimmune crap, no more weird injuries, especially no more little old ladies running red lights slamming into me (I think of her fondly every time my back hurts; I just passed the 18th anniversary of that lovely day).

I gave up on trying to sleep. I slowly crawled out of bed at 4:45 and wandered into the living room. I opened up the curtain to look out over the dark night. I can’t sit, stand, or lie down long. What to do? What to do? I just kept pleading with the universe to ease the discomfort enough for me to take a nap. It didn’t happen. I decided to ease down onto the dark floor of the still dark living room to stretch. Tears and more tears flowed. I just want relief. I can’t take a lot of the strong prescription meds–they either do not work or they bring on other problems. If I take three ibuprofen tablets the pain eases a little, not enough for me to sleep, but at least I’m no longer homicidal.

Just like so many other things, I have to just bloody grin and bear it and wait for another horrible flare of whatever my body throws at me to pass.

After a while, the morning sky brightens, my mood is still quite dark. I try to focus on finishing up another project. I sit with my laptop, I lie on the couch with my laptop, I stand briefly with it. My myasthenic muscles are not very happy this morning because I haven’t rested enough so I can’t stand long. Something has to give. Soon!

Finally, the sun decides to peer in on me in my sad state. Another beautiful morning and day, but I’ll be stuck inside all … day … long fighting with my body.

I hope you have a better day, Sun.

Sleep and mashed potatoes

I’ve slept and slept and slept over the last few days. I managed a couple of hours at my parents’ house for the 4th of July. Came back home and slept. Went to work Friday. Slept and slept Friday night. Managed to run two small errands on Saturday afternoon. Came home and slept. Woke up and read for a short bit and went to bed for 12 more hours of sleep.  Over the same few days, I’ve noticed my heart rhythm has been out of whack for the first time in a couple of years. Not sure if it’s the prednisone beast causing more chaos or something else.

Some say excessive sleeping is a sign of depression. I don’t feel sad or anything. Actually, emotionally I feel rather neutral. Physically, I feel like crud.  My mouth has been crooked all afternoon. My muscles feel like mashed potatoes today. Muscles are not supposed to feel like mashed potatoes.

MG, I need to punch you and your friend prednisone in the face.