On 01.02.02, I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. Too late for surgery, I had chemotherapy, which failed. In May the chemotherapy was changed and I was soon in remission which was celebrated and welcome and lasted nine years - until October 2011. There was progression in 2011 so more treatment was indicated and I am now back in partial remission. But I'm not only a cancer patient - I also enjoy my family, walk my dogs and am learning to draw and paint. Life is good!

Wednesday, February 06, 2013

Pain, pain, go away

Nothing pleases me more than to discover that a personal friend reads my blog!  Most of my readers are anonymous - either from faraway places or locals who don't tell me that they have been reading - so, when I receive a note from someone I actually know who owns up to her reading, my day is made!  I mention it because that happened to me today.

I am usually an exceptionally sound sleeper, but last night, in the middle of the night, I woke up crying, in something of a panic, and I didn't know why.  Obviously it was the pain that woke me originally, but the disorientation that came with it was confusing and I didn't know if I was crying because I was in so much pain or if I was just so afraid that I was dying, as in dying right then.

I had already made plans with Steve to attend the Wednesday morning church service - I am dependent on him for transportation these days because I take so much medication and some is totally contradictory with driving - and Steve had agreed to drive me and join me during the service.  But even during the service I was panicky.  I took morphine just before entering the church and again an hour later.  Some days I can't seem to bring the pain under control.  Other days I can tolerate it or manage it after a while, but there are days when I just don't know what's wrong, why morphine won't work, why it continues to hurt.

The afternoon was much better and the evening went well.  We walked that little 1/3rd circle around the block - it only takes six minutes and the dogs are grateful at my minimal effort. Later Steve and I watched a TV documentary on Morse's Oxford since he, especially, watches the series devotedly and has been in so many of the buildings where filming took place.  By the way, some people have no pride.  I figured it out that if I wait until it is truly dark, I can pull on my winter boots and sling on a long jacket and go out in my jammies and no one will even take notice - or, if they do, I don't care.  These days I spend most of my time in pajamas - partly out of comfort and partly because I nap so often - and it's just too much hassle to dress and redress, especially in the dark of night (and me, with no pride).

And so went the day.  The weather is about to shift to rain - I look forward to that - and I also know that slowly, very slowly, I am healing from the surgery.  It's just taking a while, a long while, and I have a low tolerance for discomfort.  But I'm getting there....slowly.

1 comment:

  1. Could the morphine make you panicky? When my husband had it when his kidney was removed it made him hallucinations. They had to stop him from climbing over the bed rails as he "had to get there" without knowing where "there" was.

    Oh yes, I can see how it'd make you feel good to know, actually know someone who is reading your blog!


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