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!