Monday: recovery

It’s Saturday as I start this. Note the word “start” as I’m sure it will take the weekend to get the thoughts down.

I’m trying to recover.

Mowed the lawn this morning, which entailed a bit more than firing up the mower and driving it around. Even so, when I did get to that part it proved quite daunting. Perhaps because of the steps needed to dig the mower out from behind other things and check it over and et cetera until the motor surrendered to my efforts and ran.

Although the “dig” part is more telling, because first of all I haven’t recovered from Thursday’s efforts – some of which involved digging. Never mind Friday’s brief shopping trip.

Here we have a thing. I can do stuff, right? Unfortunately the effort expended in doing what I still consider to be “simple” or “easy” is more like marathon running or an ironman competition to my body. I started out the day with pains which should automatically be equated to “don’t do anything; take the day off and rest” but which get ignored because things have to be done.

Like mowing the lawn. Well, it looks awful afterwards because it’s not exactly neatly mown. More like I drove over the highest bits to knock them down so the place doesn’t look abandoned and invite burglars in. There was a time when I would use the push mower around the edges, but I’m not that much of a masochist. Likewise I can convince myself I do not need to trim, because that causes some rather unique and unwelcome sensations – especially in the hands.

It’s after such moments that the frustration really sets in and you want to swear a lot. Genghis Khan! Does everything have to be such an almighty struggle? Staying active may keep the muscles from rotting away on the bones and it certainly detracts from the problem, but only on a pro tem basis; the minute you stop you become all-too-aware that the body is old and unwell and unwilling and is now going to ‘get’ you for what you’ve just forced it to do. I can’t imagine how many days of really doing nothing it would take before the physical complaints end. I suspect they never would.

And it’s Saturday and I’ve got to prepare for more work ahead and I’m ignoring a big project in the yard outside (an unfinished building) which must be seen to at some point. Do I really want to climb ladders and scaffolding and reinstall roof trusses? No. But it needs doing and no one else will do it. I’ve just had a large does of hired incompetence too, so … here’s me again at the short end of the stick as usual. Now let’s see how Sunday goes before I add that on and publish this for Monday.

Into Sunday we go.

I was going to skip taking pills last night, as I take too many (all of them have dire warnings about long-term use effects). By the time I was ready for bed it was obvious sleep wasn’t going to happen without one. I chose one of the ‘mild’ ones; acetaminophen in a strength meant to anesthetize elephants. By 11:30 PM I was awake and in pain and knew I needed another. This after a day of little activity, aside from mowing the lawn. Twelve hours after going to bed I’m up again, hands and feet tingling, clenched, feeling like they’ve been run over by a truck. Thus the day begins. There is nothing scheduled for today, and I might just about manage nothing.

Midway through and there’s not much improvement in the pain department. I wrote a bit about cameras, and that’s pretty much the extent of my efforts today. Having trouble walking, in fact. Not keen on taking any more pills because they don’t have much effect and I will need to take something to sleep tonight.

Whole lot of no fun.

Now it’s bedtime on Sunday. There hasn’t been much improvement. The coughing fits around dinner preparation were epic – near choking. It seems if I can hold together through them the muscles will stop spasming and ease off. It’s like disturbing them from resting state causes the spasm cough, but then they’ll get into the rhythm again if I don’t choke or collapse. Boy, where’s the comfort in that?

There will be a cyclobenzaprine tonight, so that there may be a tomorrow. Here’s hoping the sleep between will be uninterrupted, or at least not require another pill.

Finally Monday

I got through the night alright, and now just need for the after-effects of the pill to wear off so I can get through today. Coughing has started already this morning. In about three weeks I have more testing and another doctor visit. I’m not expecting anything though; wherever this thing is getting to, I think I’m there.

I’d like to be able to go work on the cabin some more tomorrow. At this point it’s somewhat doubtful and I may have to delay. That’s the worst of it: there are no good days, just “not so bad” ones and they don’t come as a matter of rest or medication. Make plans? Why? You never know if you’ll be able to follow through.

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