random onset - chronic & acute

This happens far too regularly and yet, it still catches me unawares, a total surprise. This afternoon, just relaxing with my faithful pooch laying beside me on the sofa,, when a sudden griping, annoyingly discomforting, ache in the armpits, brings back the feelings of nausea. Shortly after this griping ache a throbbing pain takes over my elbows, whilst wrists ache in a manner similar to carpal tunnel syndrome.

Sometimes the application of elbow and/or wrist supports serve to alleviate the nausea sensation and, the throbbing aches gradually subside; on other occasions even opioid painkillers fail to dispel the more severe discomforting pain. Quite frequently the armpit pain occurs when I’ve been holding a tabloid size newspaper or a tablet PC for more than a few minutes; when this occurs I have to discard my cardigan as the armpit seems overly constricted but application of a shoulder support, which settles more tightly in the armpits, can sometimes alleviate the discomforting pain.

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The first two paragraphs were written on two separate days, the usual problems, as described above, prevented me from spending sufficient time on the laptop to rediscover the document so far. I’m managing to keep posting to my twitter feed and almost keeping up with facebook posts, primarily via tablet, but concentration tends to dissipate as soon as the aches and pains begin.

Today the armpit pain came on more acutely, even though I wasn’t holding either newspaper or tablet. Donning of a shoulder support which fitted quite tightly in the armpit did distract me from the initial acute pain but, within a minute it was necessary to don wrist and palm supports to alleviate an intense, tear inducing, discomforting pain in my wrists. It was necessary, today, to resort to a couple of 50mg Tramadol.

I realize this may be much ado about nothing but, it may help to explain the paucity of posts from yours truly.

normality may be resumed ...

 

Back to normality; these days I’m somewhat at a loss when trying to describe what is normal for me. At what point on the scale (and intensity) of regular aches, pains and general discomfort, lies my norm? Pain free days are a fondly remembered experience, albeit never fully appreciated at the time but, rather taken for granted.

 

Last weekend, feeling a lot more at ease and alert than I had done for some considerable time, I carried out a few extra tasks on the Saturday and was relieved to have an equally good, although more restful, day on the Sunday. Tuesday and Wednesday were the days I suffered payback, from the weekend’s exertion; almost all parts of torso and limbs took pleasure in competing for the max discomfort trophy. Shatteredly de-energized, all became a struggle; it even seemed to require a tremendous effort of willpower to enable me to partake of a little light dietary sustenance.

 

Thankfully, that more extreme discomfort has eased and I’m now back to that elusive norm, where I’m able to concentrate on whatever I’m listening to, observing or reading. Perhaps that is what I should take to be my norm; those days when the gift of concentration is restored/present; the rest is simply passing time!

 

Watching the Red Kite riding the thermals, in clear view from my comfortable armchair, at times circling low down over the top end of the garden, brought a little brightness to a drearily grey gloomy day. And once again I celebrate the joy of being here and now, privileged in being loved and ready to share that love, in what can sometimes be a cruel and heartless world, ruled by greed and self-interest

 

I really must count my blessings!

Reprieve

My days are enriched, my mind stimulated and, new worlds are opened up. After several years deprived of this luxury, it's impossible to overstate my gratitude for the return of this ability. No matter how frequently I'd tried, the effort was always a step too far, emotional and physical stamina were both quite markedly lacking; the necessary concentration span was far beyond my grasp.

For the present, I've been released from an irksome captivity; once again the pure delight of settling down to read, and be captivated by, a novel is a realized possibility!

Dis-Concentration

My ability to concentrate is currently somewhat erratic; this has been an intermittently recurring problem during the past six or seven years. Exhaustion affects one mentally as well as physically but, it also appears to be unrelated to any exertion, or lack of same, on my part. Having had considerable periods of remission, from the more disabling aspects of my illness, has resulted in an increased level of frustration when stamina levels take a dive; this sense of frustration, in it's turn, seems to militate further against my reserves of concentration.

Quite remarkably, alongside this frustration I'm feeling reasonably content with my situation, when I'm able to hold back on tetchiness! I feel blessed in having such a loving and caring family, a comfortable home, good food and drink; what more could I wish for? Although the question's rhetorical, it would be wonderful if I could reduce my bed-rest requirement without feeling shattered mid-way through the remaining hours of (what I would like to be) active life.

Thinking Aloud

How I ever found time to go out to work is a mystery to me.

Time simply races by and, my best laid plans frequently fail to come to fruition owing to an insufficiency of waking hours in the day. No doubt some of this is due to my lack of stamina, not so drastically reduced as it was a few years ago but, stamina levels are nowhere near those I took for granted before succumbing to M.E. in 2003. Mind you, the M.E. put paid to my ability to work and, even prevented me from venturing more than a few yards from my own front door for a considerable period of time.

Reaching retirement age, and eligibility for the State Pension, seemed to produce an energy surge for me, elated by the experience of being free from the guilt that all incapacitated people are forced to feel when they have to resort to “benefits”. Politicians and media all paint a picture of tens of thousands of people in receipt of benefits being lazy scroungers but, the reality I experienced was one of enforced degradation in the way one was treated by the DWP and its medical agents; hard work at a time when ones physical and emotional stamina reserves are at an all time low, to say nothing of the excruciating pain and general dis-orientation.

Sorry I’m getting sidetracked, in any case that stamina surge, referred to at the beginning of the previous paragraph, didn’t last for long. Perhaps the initial mystery (opening sentence refers) only refers to people in less than prime health. I am extremely fortunate in that, shortly before becoming incapacitated, I’d had my arm twisted to go on t’internet. Being on-line proved a lifeline; unable to participate in the socializing, which had up that point been a mainstay of my being, I discovered the value of cyber friends who proved more loyal than some of the real world ones once my illness struck. Eventually, I found myself totally absorbed in this alternative world, barely a day could go by, physical and emotional stamina permitting, without at least a couple of hours “surfing”. Another advantage of surfing was the availability of bite size gobbets of information, on sundry topics, which fell within my concentration span; formerly an avid reader, the illness had taken away my ability to concentrate for any sustained period – measured in minutes rather than the previous hours.

Having once been an enthusiastic amateur photographer, the advent of affordable digital photography was another lifeline; no more worries about the cost of films and processing, I could now snap away to my hearts content both in the house and the garden and, swiftly edit the results. Hard copy prints were no longer of any great importance, the creativity was all.

Throughout this period, as stamina reserves fluctuatingly improved, I was able to allow the artistic muse back into my life and, on occasion was able to wrestle a new poem or painting into life. In more recent times, an increasing amount of time has been spent in the garden, generally pottering about and developing the wildlife garden end.

Painting, writing, photography, gardening, and even a bit of cooking, each makes its own demands on one’s time. I really don’t know how I ever found time to fit in any formal employment.

Sleeping - Waking - Waiting

 

It’s no longer sleep that’s the problem but rather waking. Great as it feels to be getting some real deep sleep, having previously experienced so many painfully restless nights, the necessity of sleep now seems to be overplaying its hand. Whilst I am really appreciative of the extra time (theoretically) I have to spend with my beloved, as she has been taking a few days leave, my extra sleep requirement has somewhat eaten into these precious moments.

 

Presently, my pain management routine seems to be kicking in; it’s almost a case of pain remaining at acceptable levels, permitting one the ability to think, and even concentrate, for a somewhat more sustained period. There is just so much to be grateful for!

 

This afternoon, I received a ‘phone call from my GP’s practice and, have duly made an appointment for Wednesday morning to discuss the results of my MRI scan. I’m not committed to anticipating either the worst or the best from these results; it’s simply a case of remaining patient until I get them. It was quite a surprise to hear so soon as, when I’d had the scan last Thursday, they informed me that it would be approximately two weeks before my doctor would have the result.  

Returning Home from Being There

 

An endless numbness, a dull sullen hanging sense of nausea and, barely the energy to read a single word, listen to a note of music; if only I had the stamina to put a thought together it would probably turn into a single-syllabled question. The querulous word would, I suspect, be more on the lines of “What” rather than “Why”.

I’ve long since given up on the existential / metaphysical why; more an exercise in futility rather than to proffer any result. “What” keeps the world alive, “why” seems more like an evasion.

Well, that’s yesterday dealt with; today I have returned to me. The preceding days, and nights, had been dominated by intensely excruciating pain, ranging from the numbing tourniquet, to the slightly blunted arrow; the bone and muscle crumbling ache in combat with those swiftly-fleeting nerve-tingling darts that seem to take one’s breath away; a kind of Topsy-Turvy Terpsichore:

Dance rules over all – it prevails against reason, common-sense and substantial portions of ritual belief. Trouble is that, we are never in control; I am currently in thrall to a kind of voodoo dance –nature’s response to a crushing debilitating pain scenario.

When all else fails, randomly fling limbs in whatsoever direction they feel like; if it causes further discomfort then that adds a whole new terpsichorean overlay, disclosing hitherto undreamt of fraught sequences of space displacement.

On Monday my pain-killing medication was changed, to a 3 day slow release opiate patch. Having applied the patch, late afternoon, my familiar discomforted restless night was in attendance, so nothing different then but the following morn was quite a different proposition. A total inability to concentrate, a generalized dull ache underlining the spasmodically erupting specific sharp pains; all was eventually blanketed under a heavily nausea spiced  airless cloud of unbeing, crushing a body wracked in turn between hot and cold shivering sweats.

Needless to say, all the remaining patches have been returned to the pharmacy and, my routine has been switched back to Tramadol, this time of a non-modified release type, to enable me to remain in control, modifying the dosage as necessary. Meanwhile, I’ve once again been referred to the hospital for further investigative work.

The 18 hours respite, including some ‘real’ bed rest, between removing the patch and taking a further pain-killer, has served to enhance my appreciation of the home environment. For the first-time this season, I was aware of the seasonally decorated dining table, and the various Christmas ornaments and tinsel sundrily scattered around our abode. This awareness of one’s habitation, the taste of food, the sound of music and always one’s loving companion is a gift to be truly celebrated. The return from a pain-riddled drug addled stupor makes me feel like the fabled Prodigal Son; although at heart I am always aware of the love that surrounds me, it’s good to receive a whole-hearted reminder, for one’s abode to find it’s rightful status as Home.

 

Random Ramblings on Time and Perspective

Strange, the tricks of light and perspective; the history of art has a lot to answer for. I’m stood by the backdoor and, a good three hundred or more metres away, there are giants working on the roof trusses of a house under construction. I see these figures, each around 5’10” to 6’0” in height, at much the same height as they would appear if they were standing next to me. Were I to paint, or draw, the scene I’m witnessing, it would be expected that these figures would appear quite miniscule, positioned well on the way towards the vanishing point. Why, for the sake of convention am I expected to diminish their stature; our observation is always subjective, we always interpret the scene laid out before us so, why did anyone ever to take the trouble to lay down rules as to the way we are to portray it? Is it supposed to bring some sort of objectivity to the interpreted world?

I suppose there is a degree of importance to quantifying time and space, to enable us to more easily modify our environment for the sake of efficiency in our daily routines but, it has got me wondering about whether art comes under the category of work or play.

Mind you, I’m not wondering all that seriously, it’s more a case of letting ideas fly off the top of my head (and being bald, I suppose it makes for a smooth take-off as these random thoughts take flight).

Suddenly, I find time has become a greater issue than space, as I await the arrival of the workmen who are going to be renovating our downstairs loo; as I wait each minute seems like a quarter of an hour and, once the appointed time for their arrival has passed the moments seem to stretch out even further. It’s strange how the waiting process plays havoc with temporal values! Where once patience was a virtue I could uphold to a considerable degree, the past few years have swung the pendulum the other way; patience is now a quality which seems to belong to a dim and distant past life. Somehow, whilst anticipating an impending event, I find it impossible to apply my mind to any other task; it only seems possible to concentrate on one thing at a time and, even then, the quality of concentration ain’t what it used to be.

At least these random jottings have helped the time pass more quickly and, I’m relieved to hear the doorbell ring. Meantime, I’ll get on with a little bit more net surfing, before my physio arrives to administer the magic needles once more.

Balancing Expectations

Whilst it’s always good to live in hope, there always comes a time of need when one has to lower these expectations. I’m currently fumbling at the keyboard, fighting the resistance of the aluminium cored wrist supports, which theoretically permit unrestricted digital freedom. Oh, if only!

As I’ve said before, on several occasions, this year has seen great improvements in my sense of well-being, taking my first holiday break away from home in several years, managing a bit of socializing and even some pottering around in the garden. The past couple of weeks have found a more marked re-asserting of the sundry aches and pains the flesh is heir too. A sharp bruised sensation, emanating from the armpit, spreading down the left inner arm and, leading to a nagging perpetual ache in the elbow, is just one of the symptoms.

Ever since some earlier bouts of tendonitis and sciatica in the lower limbs, hardly a day has gone by when I haven’t experienced a degree of discomfort and, my power of concentration is fluctuating wildly. Yesterday, for the first time in a while, a sense of disequilibrium occurred, requiring the attendance of my long-suffering beloved whilst I showered and, manifesting itself in stumbling about when reaching (without overstretching) for various utensils.

On the positive side, I still managed to do an hours pottering about in the garden and, in the afternoon managed to devise and prepare a garlic chicken casserole for Sunday lunch.

My bed-rest requirement still fluctuates somewhat and, all too frequent vivid dreams do little to contribute to any sense of refreshment from the sleep time. Although progress, on the health front, can be painfully slow, it is impossible not to feel a sense of gratitude for what I am able to achieve. That’s where the balance of expectation comes into play; I have learned, over the years, that having too high an expectation has lead to an intensified sense of frustration (especially when the target is unattainable). Pushing ones-self leads to some rather agonizing setbacks yet, it’s almost as if I am now able to appreciate the good days more, as the setbacks served to remind me of how low a base I started the journey from.

Idling Along

The mouse finger’s growing tired, slip sliding through various websites, occasionally allowing me to peruse the content of the page it stumbles upon. An adventure without purpose, an aimless search through all the wonders the web has to offer but, I’m still awaiting the return of the necessary powers of concentration to give my searching some kind of focus. If only this aimlessness was my purpose, I would now be the victor; sadly there seem to be a paucity of rewards on offer for such unwitting purposelessness!

The rewards are much greater when I idle my time away sat on the bench beside the garden pond, observing the frenetic activity of sundry insects amongst the pebbles, hovering over the pond and rockery and, generally engaging in the necessary tasks for their survival. The clarity of the pond water is quite remarkable, a reward for the earlier application of barley straw extract and Sludge Buster. Despite the timidity of the ponds piscine inhabitants, they still eagerly surface on my first visit of the day in anticipation of their feed yet, at other times, they dart for cover at the merest hint of a shadow cast upon the water.

All too frequently, I become distracted by the thought of necessary gardening tasks and, despite the exercise of admirable restraint, yield to their beckoning. Although I enjoy pottering about, and sometimes getting my hands dirty, it’s still far too easy to overdo it. At times, I think it would be much better if exhaustion displayed itself as a preventative, rather than in its excruciatingly numbing delayed post-exertional manifestation.

All that being said, I still find it easy to enjoy life, although any socializing activity is strictly rationed; I love sharing my life with Helen, imbibing the odd glass of fermented grape juice and, consuming the fruits of my cookery experiments. Life would be so much harder without such a wonderful encouraging partner, certainly much duller.

For all that life has given me I give thanks, and rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

Aftermath

Every action seems to have its cost, albeit far from predictable. Recent weekends away proved most beneficial in their demonstration that, after several years when such a venture was beyond even the least consideration, I really was improving in the health stakes.

Although something like two-thirds of my time away was spent resting, more from necessity than choice, on each occasion the return home found me running on adrenalin, as I set to necessary tasks in house and garden. Recent bright days drew me into the garden once more, just a bit of light pottering about, but it didn’t take long to realize that my “pacing” had gone somewhat awry!

There’s something gnawingly frustrating about that sensation, when the usual aches and pains, merge into an all encompassing blanket of exhaustion; a kind of leaden hollowness, underpinned by spasmodically searing twinges, somehow blanks out the least residual remnant of ones power of concentration.

Suddenly, in the midst of typing this reason for the paucity of recent blog postings, I’m transfixed by the liquid alto trilling of a blackbird on the garden shed; that simple call eradicates any risk of drifting into self-pity. Quite frequently I feel that there is no need to venture any further than the boundaries of our garden. Sitting on the bench beside the pond, watching the goldfish devour the foodsticks, whilst on the neighbouring rockery the peacock butterflies, and honey bees, are drawn to the heathers, a sense of contentment floods my being. Contentedly fatigued, that phrase just about captures the present state of play.

What I was going to say, before this gentle interruption, was that recent days have found me unable to concentrate sufficiently to check my e-mail boxes and, my normally regular swift surfing of news websites has been honoured more in the breach than by its observance. A blank ‘Word’ page proves far too daunting, the prospect of painting it in words too challenging a task, but I will be back!

In life and love and friendship, I feel truly blessed.

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This post also appears on 'Mal's Murmurings' and 'Hirsute Antiquity'

The Quest Fulfilled

Despite my relative inactivity, I still find it difficult to make time for contacting friends and acquaintances online, no matter how strong the intention. If I relied solely on handwritten letters, despatched via snail mail, I'd be even more guilty of neglect.

For the past few weeks I’ve renewed my quest for a faster computer, with a decent graphics card and a couple of gigabytes of RAM. The original quest began back in the summer months but I kept putting it on hold, somehow, the recent ‘down’ phase of my existence added impetus to the quest. I realize that may sound quite absurd but, the truth is, as my already meagre powers of concentration seemed to be in under-drive I rediscovered my facility of absorbing technical specs of computer kit. Many short sharp visits to back issues of PC magazines, and PC related websites, proved a delightful distraction from my familiar catalogue of aches and pains.

Severe back pains sustained their attempt to divert me from my quest for the computer grail but I boldly fought against the odds! After Tuesday afternoon’s acupuncture session, I felt sufficiently energised to venture down, the following morning, to the local PC emporium and drooled over the machine that I’d more or less decided would meet my requirements. The fact that it was also equipped with both analog and digital TV cards seemed to sway my beloved, the idea of having digital TV upstairs as well as in the living room appealed to her. We decided on a 19” widescreen monitor to complement the base unit and a set of JBL 2.1 speakers added the final touch.

The setting up process started on Wednesday afternoon, not without its moments of frustration, continuing on into Thursday afternoon (not a sustained effort you understand). As I’m still hanging onto the laptop and my old PC, I’m not in too much of a rush to install some graphics and DTP programmes as, its maybe time to upgrade from my current programmes. Of course, the primary reason for the new machine is to facilitate my graphics work but, I’m not going to rush things.

It seems quite strange that it wasn’t many years ago that I reluctantly succumbed to using my beloved’s old PC, that she’d used for lesson preparation in her teaching days and, agreed to go ‘online’. My only previous experience of computers had been when the whole stock and accounts procedures, where I was employed as Office Manager/Accounts Manager, was transferred to a computerised system in days before PCs were an option. In this situation, working as a VDU operator, didn’t have half the appeal that the job had previously held. [It’s strange that I should have lamented the loss of my hand-written double entry book-keeping etc., especially as someone who always hated figure work but, that’s another story!]

Within a few weeks I’d put up my first website but, it took quite a while to discover the delights of the ‘blogosphere’. Helen’s old machine had a mere 1GB HDD and upgraded to the RAM to its maximum of 96MB. It wasn’t too long before Beth’s partner made me a new machine. As I succumbed to ME/CFS, and much of my real world socializing was drastically curtailed, the internet provided me with a whole new world to explore. I shall be forever grateful to ma belle for pushing me in this direction. Meantime, when Helen had to retire from teaching for health reasons, part of her recovery programme got her involved in learning computing skills and, I found myself being called upon for troubleshooting purposes.

Forgive the rambling – the keyboard just took on a life of its own but, a degree of weariness compels me to slump down in front of the telly. Stamina levels, you will be grateful to know, have temporarily curtailed today’s rambling.

Now the day is over ...

Another day draws to a close and, I offer a grateful sigh that the latter part of the day has been so much better for me than all that preceded it. Once more, in spite of the presence of a breeze, the heat proved quite oppressive. Even in the cooler part of the day my beloved noted that I was ‘roasting’; my body thermostat, which is always erratic, seems to have set itself to maintain maximum temperature at all times. Whether the breeze is supplied as a natural air current or, assisted by an electrical fan, it does little to prevent me ‘burning up’.

As the day went by, I felt increasingly frustrated and despondent with my inability to settle down to any task I set myself; no sooner had I started surfing the web than it seemed like time to ‘shut down’, the shut down of the machine reflecting that of my powers of concentration. By late afternoon, I seemed to be teetering on the edge of a depression, an acute bout of melancholia. Were I in perfectly good health, I still would be affected by the excessive humidity but, currently I feel totally defeated by it.

On a more positive note, I did manage to venture out for a brief brisk walk, in the company of my beloved, before settling down to preparation of a beef curry for tomorrows lunch. Having completed this domestic chore, we sat down to watch and enjoy Hitchcock’s ‘The 39 Steps’; I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve seen this particular movie but, it never ceases to entertain. The accompanying beverage was a bottle of Edward’s Lake Unoaked Chardonnay, 2003, a quite straightforward but nonetheless satisfying product of NSW.

The possibility of sleep lures me towards the bedroom, having emerged from the duvet realm a full twelve hours ago. With these words, I bid any readers good night.

Singing The Greys

Having enjoyed a 20 minute fairly brisk walk, out into the dull grey mizzling day, came back to prepare dinner for my beloved and myself but, failed to enjoy it. There seems to be something about my taste buds/ digestion on a Friday; at least it means that my beloved can enjoy even more!

After the exercise / exertion, a degree of fatigue cum disinterestedness in what I was doing, or attempting to do, became a prominent feature of the evening. A degree of release from this detachment came, when the gods of technology conspired against us, after dinner; the Sumvision Wireless Card on Helen’s laptop gave up the ghost … totally kaput. I tried re-installing and repairing the software etc., but, all to no avail. Methinks the product is crap, this being the second such card since August but, this time we’ll require a refund and not a replacement! Meanwhile, I’ve installed the Netgear USB wireless adaptor, which I’d been using on my PC, on my partner’s laptop and, the PC has reverted to its Ethernet link.

I’ve just been wondering, this evening, whether I can be bothered with blogging as it only produces a guilt reaction when I realize, as the evening draws to a close, that I’ve not done any scribing. If it becomes too much of a chore it’ll be better to ditch it. Energy & concentration reserves are at a premium in any case; it takes a lot of effort simply to appreciate a life of inactivity, let alone record the relative inaction’s ebb and flow.

Below Par

I hope to God that tears are beneficial as, I’ve shed a few this evening. I’m also trusting that yesterday’s acupuncture session has yet to kick in, as I’m generally feeling like shit today. Knees suddenly giving way as I stand up, followed by what feels like a cramping electric shock through the base of the spine, are simply the current (not of the AC or DC kind) intermittent manifestation of my physical well-being! Even the necessary effort of clearing mucous from my throat has, today, become a cause for self-pity.

The lack of energy, coupled with an inability to concentrate on anything, for more than a few minutes, is taking its toll on my usually good self-esteem. The ugly beast of guilt rears its head for my shameful inactivity; there are just so many social pressures that make “the unproductive” feel like lepers.

Today, you may have gathered, has not been the best of days!

One Day At A Time

Today my concentration was slightly improved, albeit limited to the reading of short articles on the web. Although unable to manage one of my brief brisk walks, a few ascents and descents of the staircase were managed without resorting to a crab-like gait. I’m really starting to get the feeling that my most recent acupuncture treatment has proved beneficial.

It remains to be seen how next weeks (more intensive) treatment will affect me. My outlook is becoming more positive but, having spent such a prolonged wilderness period before the physiotherapist’s visits, I am all too aware that there may yet be setbacks.

I have been warned of the risk of overdoing any exercise, which has not normally been too much of a problem, as even thirty to forty minutes exertion (e.g. lawn-mowing) has on several occasions led to being ‘knocked-out’ for at least the next couple of days. A task to be gradually tackled is venturing out for little social outings, which requires a boost of confidence and, longer term (perhaps) to regain the courage to have a little holiday with my beloved. It’s now over three years since we were able to take a holiday, largely to do with my phobias regarding travelling and alien environments.