A CRY of SELF-PITY – an ATTEMPT to EXORCISE the PAIN

Although I’m, by now, well used to unrefreshing sleep, the past couple of weeks have found me experiencing the most erratically intermittent bouts of night time rest, haphazardly interlaced by an alarming array of discomforting, nausea inducing, peripatetic tingling and throbbing parcels of pain.

A spasmodic, sudden onset, sensation of the knees being crushed and clamped from either side, by surreptitious g-force avengers, is the most recent addition to my more familiar catalogue of aches and pains. Sometimes the pain is partially alleviated by the donning of sports knee supports; at other times the supports simply add another layer of throbbing discomfort. On other occasions my only recourse is to an extra dose of tramadol, even though its efficacy is slow to be realized.  

Wrists and/or elbows frequently ache and throb, for no apparent reason, but application of elasticated supports soon alleviates the worst excesses of the discomfort. For a considerable time now  I have avoided donning any nightwear on the torso, as PJ jackets seemed to exacerbate the nausea inducing discomfort emanating from axillary lymph nodes. More recently I’ve had to don jacket or vest, at times, to alleviate a disconcertingly abstract discomfort around the shoulders and armpits.

The most infuriating of the many nocturnal disturbances / sleep preventatives is a sudden tingling rasping sensation on the tops of my toes, sometimes almost feeling as if it emanates from a felt, but non-existent, elevated ridge, on top of the foot, just behind the toes. This frustrating event usually occurs just as my body and mind feel sufficiently sedated to visit the land of nod. Its onset is frequently marked by an almost uncontrollable flailing of the lower limbs and, an angry muted scream of profanities emanating from the mouth of yours truly. The touch of the sheet, against the suddenly over-sensitive toes, can seem to be an overwhelming tortuous  burden.

No matter how tired, or even exhausted, I may feel as I prepare for my bed-rest, these sundry ailments and irritations ensure that I rarely achieve more than occasional brief cat-naps for many of the nocturnal hours.  In terms of sleep, my requirement / need rarely seems to be fulfilled.

A large bag full of supports for shoulder, wrist, elbow, back etc. now accompanies me on the daily transition from sitting room to bed room, from day into night.

A CRY of SELF-PITY – an ATTEMPT to EXORCISE the PAIN


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PS 22/09/16 see also:

Restless - Illustrated Poem

on 'Mal's Factory' which reflects a similar theme!

a modicum of exercise

Although I have never considered ME as primarily a ‘fatigue’ condition, pain, cognitive difficulties, postural hypotension, sensitivities to sound and light, and post-exertional-malaise, being more distinct identifiers, the past several days have found me in a quite sustained  state of shattered exhaustion. Intermittent, unrefreshing, nocturnal episodes of sleep, do little to relieve fatigue, even as a component of quite prolonged periods of (supposed) rest.

This afternoon, although still somewhat achingly tired, I took Piper for a walk, accompanied by ma belle OH, and, in spite of having to shorten the circuit on which we roamed, I felt (emotionally) better for the exercise! Admittedly, a couple more painkillers were necessary to ease the aftermath experience.

All in all, the presence of Piper as a family member has proved wonderfully therapeutic, and the warmth of his adoring gaze is more than sufficient to melt the heart of this hardened cynic, regardless of how under par, physically and/or emotionally, I may be feeling, as the blessed recipient.

Much as our beloved pet enjoys both bounding leaps, and slow, nose led, meanders around the garden, he has developed an undue readiness to dig holes in the grassy area, frequently followed by an attempt to sneak back into the lounge before we have a chance to check the cleanliness of his fore-paws.

As recompense for the brevity of this posting, I’m adding a few recent snapshots of the garden (and Piper in it’s environs)