Narcotic fueled nightmares

This is a subject that I'm sure has frequented this blog.  But after last night and this morning, with how horrible nightmares and how hard it was to drag myself to a family dinner at noon, I just had to write.  At least when I was sleeping next to my husband I could roll over, touch his back and confirm that this was indeed reality, not that awful dreamworld.

I tried sleeping with the dogs.  Oh heavens.

Sully takes up the whole bed.  You know how she lies on you and thinks she's a lapdog on the couch?  Yeah, that's how she is in bed, but diagonally. That's a lot of dog.  So you have to sleep in the fetal position in one of the corners.

Libby is sweet and sleeps in a ball, but unfortunately it's near your head and she is on high alert all night long.  And between the two of them, they shed. And the dog farts.  Bloody hell.

Other than that it's wonderful.

I learned that we have nightmares in what scientists refer to as the fourth level of sleep, once our brain has emitted a subtle chemical that tends to paralyze us so we can't act out our dreams.  I just wish that narcotics didn't have this side effect of brining out the worst in my psyche.  Sometimes sleep is torturous and I wake over and over drinking my own tears, feeling them run down my neck into my ears.

"Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica"*

This week it's been all about writing, sinus infection, summer.  I looked at this blog and realized I hadn't written in a week!  But the week has gone by so quickly, how could I?  I promise, the days had to be shorter than other days.  This may be in part to the three things I listed.

Writing puts me in a unique zone in which time and pretty much anything else is irrelevant.  My poor dogs.  They have to jump on top of me, stand over the computer screen, and demand attention.  I can't say I don't love it.  Honestly, this is one of those things I live for, thrive on, crave.  And I am one chapter away from being done with my edits/writing/overhaul, so get ready team of readers and editors! :)

Oh, the miserable sinus infection.  It's cutting into my writing time because I am so bloody tired!  But today I am blowing my nose and stuff is coming out again.  I'll leave it at that because I know there are some squeamish types out there and really just my bestie would appreciate the details.

And ah, summer.  All my windows are open; the breeze is so wonderful I could cry in appreciation every time I feel it.  I survived another winter!  And I can play with the dogs without worry the Frisbees will get taken away be the wind and never seen again!  We actually have to wait until morning or evening to play because it is so warm black dogs have a hard time cooling down in the heat.

Anecdote:

Yesterday there was the HUGE truck sitting outside my house for apparently no reason.  And soon my house was filled with exhaust and I was coughing and miserable and the "Sasha Fierce"** in me was like, "oh, hell no".  So I went outside, motioned for the driver to roll down his window and said, "Your vehicle is filling my house with exhaust.  Now will you please shut it off or move along?"

He was really taken aback, as was his passenger, but the passenger got out and the truck moved along.

Imagine me thumping my chest just once and saying "This is my house."


There is just one more thing.  My primary care doc here in Burley got a call from one of the docs at the University of Utah Pain Clinic.  What it means, in a nutshell, is that my file isn't just sitting on some desk being ignored in a pile!  Excitement!




*If you didn't get this reference, I feel bad for you.  Look it up on YouTube (the phrase) if you feel bored.
**You better have gotten the "Sasha Fierce" reference and if not, just look it up on Wikipedia, I suppose.


The second picture is of my aunt's/cousin's water feature.  Gorgeous, eh? 

Humbled

Right when I was considering writing another one of my BS entries complaining about this or that, blah, blah, blah, my dad sent me a link to a blog of a man he works with keeps.  The home page tells his story.  I was so moved and humbled, I felt I had to share it here.

Here's the link:

http://tomnichols.webs.com/

This man was in a dynamite explosion accident as a teenager; in the end one of his legs was amputated just below the knee.  The story he tells on his home page is not too graphic, but he has a photo gallery that might be for only those who find that kind of thing interesting.  He seems to have a great sense of humor because he has another photo gallery devoted solely to pirate cartoons.

What really got to me was that 30 years ago in Rupert, Idaho, pain control was not that advanced.  He describes getting shots of morphine, but now there are far more effective pain killers and it would be standard procedure to flush them through an IV or provide the patient with a drug pump where they can press the button and every 10 minutes they get a dosage of whatever medication (typically morphine, dilaudid) is in it.  I think it is the disparity in care I received/receive for my pain and what he received is what really got to me about his story.

When I awoke from my surgery all I could do was wimpier about the incision/surgical pain and it took a long time to get it under control.  I was getting shot after shot of Demerol flushed through my IV (which, if done too quickly makes the IV site all hot and achy).

But what care!  I was given IV medications, sent home after taking oral pain medications, and was written scripts to get even more medications.

Once again I have perspective.  This week I think I finally fixed the patient records issue with the University of Utah Pain Clinic (turns out the issue was some over-zealous employee was just cleaning house).  And instead of feeling like I can't catch a break and I have no end of hardships, I just feel grateful.  Grateful for modern approaches to pain management and grateful for the opportunity (Medicare) to receive it.

Sunshine begets seratonin begets happy

KNOCK ON WOOD.  The sun has been shining.  In this sun shininess, there have been storms, rain, and wind, but the sun continues to shine each morning.  I would really like to believe it is a trend because sunshine makes me so perfectly happy!

My mom and I took a trip to Moss's Greenhouse in Jerome and I delighted in the blooms and color and… you guessed it, sunshine!  I couldn't help but take pictures of some of my favorites.

And PS lots of writing/editing going on, too.

My goal

It was 2AM some morning or other and a thought occurred to me.  This is really quite a bunch of bullshit.  My ongoing whine about my writing that is.  I am not technically in the writing phase on the book I want to publish.  I am editing.  And from there my thoughts tumbled quickly, and before I could back out in cowardice, onto "paper" or email rather and I assembled a team.

This is one of those rare times when I need help and I am going to ask for it.  I put together a list of people close to me with skills to help with further edits, motivation, website development and hosting, and Amazon publishing research.  And what a team.  They've already made progress.  And I've made some progress.

Important, because here's the deal.  I am publishing The Keepers by September 1 via Amazon.

Sighing loudly, and often

This isn't going to be a cheerful post.  Let's start with a warning.  I am going to complain about how much dating sucks and how much I hate being on pain killers but am so grateful to have them and then generally bitch and moan over the purposelessness of my life.

I broke up with my boyfriend, and although it wasn't necessarily a long relationship, it had been intense and for the last few days now I feel pinned down in the mire by an anchor of sadness.  Although I feel good about us breaking up, I still feel like shit, you know?

But even before than I felt a bit miserable because the pain killers make it soI can't write worth a damn.  I feel like anything I write is questionable and I can't stay at it very long.  Anytime anyone asks me what I do or if I work, I feel like a piece of garbage.

I'm down on myself because I haven't been able to play with my dogs when the weather has been really bad.  Like tonight.  I came home in time to make sure they'd get some time in outside playing Frisbee.  The wind that kept us inside earlier in the day had made way for pelting rain that made Libby not even want to go outside.  Yeah, and how is the weather my fault?  How do bad weather conditions, which constantly occur in the Magic Valley, make me a bad person?  I don't know, this is where my brain is right now.

But what really has me down is that the University of Utah Pain Clinic informed me (days and days after I'd called them) that my records had been shredded and if I wanted to be a patient there, I'd have to have my doctor resubmit everything and then have one of their doctors review it again.

What?  I just keep crying about that part.  It took months, but they finally had all my paperwork and a doctor had reviewed it and I had done their orientation and all I was supposed to have to do was get this stupid pump removed and then I would be ready.  Now how many more months?

Remember when I've written that I don't think I can take anymore? I'm back to being very close to that point again.  Wow.  My reserves run out quickly these days.