Adjusting

Being on a painkiller schedule is an adjustment.  For one thing, it is a schedule.  The idea is that you get out of such a high level of pain and stay out of it.  In order to do that, you keep up with the regularly scheduled doses.  It may look sort of junkie-esq but the idea is a good one.  I rather like feeling so much better and I'd like that to continue.

I feel really, really good.  I feel my shoulders and upper back relax, as if to say, ahhhhh.  It's like a heavy load has been lifted.  This is not to say that I don't still feel pain; I do.  But it is manageable and livable.  Take yesterday for example: played frisbee with the dogs, washed dishes, hung clothes on the line, did a modicum of yoga, took the dogs for a walk, and watch some tube with the fam.

But the adjustment aspect...

Take yesterday for example.  I got up early with an upset stomach, looked at the clock and knew I needed to take meds, ate a piece of bread or rather force-fed myself a piece of bread, took meds, slept another four hours, woke up, took dogs to drain ditch, made what should have been a delicious lunch, forced most of that down, took meds, attempted writing, failed at attempted writing, slept four hours, and so on.

This morning I woke up a bit after five and now at six thirty I think I'll go back to sleep.  I'm hoping this adjustment doesn't take too long because me with pain under control is me with superwoman-like hopes and plans.  And I want to kick those into high gear.