Just A ... Day

The day started with a generalized non-specific ache, nothing major this time, aching rather than painfully discomforted. Part and parcel of these aches is a sensation as if an arterial infusion has embalmed one into a state of physical, spiritual and emotional shatteredness, a temporary shutting down of any apparent future light. I manage to upset my beloved OH as a result of my wimp inspired tetchiness, a fear of being alone, a fear of physical collapse.

As the day went on, utilizing a 7" tablet pc seemed to put too much stress on my arms; an ache in the elbows transmogrified into a sensation of bruised tenderness in the armpits and down the inside of both upper arms. The application of tubular bandage and elasticated support to the elbows seemed to alleviate the most nausea-inducing element of the discomfort although, by this time I was already donning knee-supports in preparation for the dog's evening walk.

Add a touch of IBS and a throbbing headache to the equation, and what do we have? Just a(nother) perfect day.

new post on Mal's Factory

I have posted a new poem (or maybe perhaps a poem in progress) on 'Mals Factory' entitled "in the moment"

REFRESHED or NOT

To sleep, perchance to dream; no that’s not it, I dream that I may once again experience a sense of refreshment from my sleep. I have, quite simply, lost track of how many months, or even years, have passed since I last remember having felt really refreshed after a night’s sleep. The one thing that’s for certain is that I now require at least eleven hours of bed rest per night just to function quite modestly.

What has brought this state of affairs to a head is the (apparent) payback I’ve experienced the past couple of days, a result of having an early appointment at the local hospital on Monday morning. By early, I’m talking a 9.20 appointment which incurred my curtailing my bed-rest by just over two hours; that experience may, perhaps, demonstrate that I do in fact receive a certain amount of refreshment from my normal extended bed rest, hence the payback yesterday and today.

Yesterday was the first time, for a while, that I was totally unable to tackle the short evening walk with Piper; a sudden onset giddiness alongside unsupportive (de-boned sensation) lower limbs. Today, I started the evening walk but was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of breathlessness / gasping for breath accompanied by a not unfamiliar discomfort in the upper abdomen, alongside a bruised tenderness in the armpits (axillary lymph nodes).

Apart from the sleep deprivation (early appointment), the hospital visit went well; I saw consultant, went for X-Ray, saw consultant again and, in spite of having heard an apology for delay in the clinic, was back on the road home, with ma belle chauffeuse, within 80 minutes of the clinic appointment time. I now await an appointment for an arthroscopy of the right knee.

The excitedly enthusiastic welcome home from Piper, our delightful hound, was overwhelming; he re-acted as if he’d missed the pair of us (ma belle et moi) for at least a couple of weeks. Of course my excursions away from the immediate vicinity of the homestead are quite rare occurrences so, the simultaneous absence of both his people may prove a little unsettling for our boy Piper.

CHANGING NOCTURNAL TRADITIONS - (one man, one woman, and their dog)

Last night, once again, was of the somewhat discomforted variety, regardless of a pre-emptive dose of amitriptyline and tramadol. It was rather difficult to clamp down on the moans & cusses that seemingly forced their way out of my mouth; my beloved responded by cuddling me tight (until she was overwhelmed by sleep) but then, the cuddles were followed by a gentle patter of feet, approaching the bed, as our beautiful hound came to add further comfort, stretching his forepaws across my upper arms and his head across my shoulder, and onto my neck as he lay along the edge of the bed.

You may well think that Piper, our beagle–podenco hybrid hound, was very clever to hear, and respond quite swiftly to, my moans upstairs, when his bed is in a room, behind a closed door, downstairs. Up until a few short weeks ago he did indeed sleep downstairs, usually on a sofa in preference to his quite de-luxe bed. Matters changed when Helen had a bad coughing fit, at night, to which the solitary Piper responded by whining, barking and finally banging against the living room door.

After this sustained barrage of sound we succumbed to his whiles / concern and allowed him to run upstairs. That night he settled himself on the duvet, creating his own cradle in a ridge between the recumbent bodies of Helen and myself.

After a couple more evenings he had decided that he needed to keep an eye on us, sneaking through the living room door in the time it took to switch off a light. He soon decided that he didn’t like being alone and commandeered the bedroom armchair, equipped with an old blanket and towel, as his customary nocturnal roost.

Come morning, he pays a visit to our bed, as if to check we’re alright and still there. If he outstays the welcome of his inspection routine, he can generally be persuaded to go back into HIS chair!