that's what I'm taking. I sleep for a while then can't get back to sleep because of some pain. Most of the time it's supper chugging through my digestive system. Honestly, what doesn't come screaming out 15 minutes after I finish eating, chugs through on a 75 minute time schedule like I imagine British Rail time tables to be. So all evening I'm missing things and praying that when I'm so tired I can't keep my eyes open this last trip will be the last trip. But no, one sign of awakeness and the juices are flowing again. So this is the time I should be writing. And tonight I found some motivation. I want to build a house. I'm good at telling stories so I have to write a book to have the money to build this house.
Meanwhile, the tummy trouble hit me right after lunch today and kept after me all day long. My youngest wanted to go do something but I just couldn't and the little snot says " sometimes I think you don't have tummy trouble you just use that excuse because you don't want to leave the house." I have never used it as an excuse to avoid going somewhere just because I didn't want to go. I was honest, "mommy can't take you because she doesn't want to pack 2 changes of clothes and stop off and buy baby wipes just to get her through a trip to walmart to buy you another cheezy remote controlled item you'll break then take apart and leave all over my sectional." I have bought extra clothes on those trips and been accused of shoplifting when I had to change.
Another honesty, depends do not come in my size. I'm a big woman.
So we sat a home and I happily crocheted. I'm now on minute 10 of my 75 minute interval. I'm going to go start a new book.
Friday, April 28, 2017
Tuesday, April 25, 2017
Still stagnated
Written April
I have completed a few things. The commission quilt, a knitted wash cloth and a cowl for my aunt. I can't really think of anything else but I know there are others. It's just a struggle to get through the day lately. I'm working a lot of hours so when I get home I just don't feel like doing anything. Then when I do feel like doing something I have to fight through a mess to do it. ugh.
I made a skirt last week. I made a blouse the week before. Okay, it looks like I'm getting things done. Meanwhile, I have something worse than PTSD wrong with me. The preliminary neurological reports say MS. It's not Fibromyalgia, it's worse.
Don't get me wrong the flash backs have been messing with me a lot. When I'm tired, I just get them more often. Eddie wants me to up my meds. I just want to stop my meds. Neither one of us will get their way.
Typing hurts. I should just go to bed.
I have completed a few things. The commission quilt, a knitted wash cloth and a cowl for my aunt. I can't really think of anything else but I know there are others. It's just a struggle to get through the day lately. I'm working a lot of hours so when I get home I just don't feel like doing anything. Then when I do feel like doing something I have to fight through a mess to do it. ugh.
I made a skirt last week. I made a blouse the week before. Okay, it looks like I'm getting things done. Meanwhile, I have something worse than PTSD wrong with me. The preliminary neurological reports say MS. It's not Fibromyalgia, it's worse.
Don't get me wrong the flash backs have been messing with me a lot. When I'm tired, I just get them more often. Eddie wants me to up my meds. I just want to stop my meds. Neither one of us will get their way.
Typing hurts. I should just go to bed.
Stress and the PTSD girl
A few months back I had some trouble with my bowels. I had a doctor do some blood tests, take a few samples and order a few tests. All of those tests came out to say, "there's cancer somewhere in your bowels" So last week I had a set of barium x-rays done and I haven't slept well since. I got up early for that test and went back to bed afterward. The most irritating side effect I had was itching. My hands itched for days. Just scratching one little spot set off all those other itchy twitchy spots I couldn't reach. This kept me from sleeping one night, then the pattern has just progressed. If I had a sharp stick, I could scratch the skin off my back right now. Sitting hurts. Years ago my husband was gifted a hemorrhoid pillow at a white elephant holiday party. Our boys were little and liked tearing up foam rubber stuff and they destroyed it. Man, I wish I had that pillow now. Just admitting my colon hurts brings stuff back for me. It's going to take a long time to get past it this time I guess. At this point, I would take a diagnosis of cancer anywhere but in my colon just so I wouldn't have this..."you did this to me" hanging over my head. Poor diet, drinking, taking the wrong combo of drugs, swallowing flies while outside any thing but a tumor on my scar.
Okay, so instead of thinking of those things, I wish I was at my grandma's house right now. It's 3 a.m. and she's cat napped most of her evening so she's awake and asked me if the light would bother me. She's either going to crochet, or read her Bible. I tell her I'll join her. I've either got some hand sewing, knitting or crocheting of my own to do. She'll turn on KVOO and we'll sing along to the old country songs. If she's reading, she'll start humming some hymn that has to do with what she's reading. I'll pick up on it and start humming or singing along. Those were the best times. I could put Jeffy, my then 1-2 year old son in the other bedroom either with my cousin Penny or alone and crack the door. They would sleep on. Penny had her times like this too. I only hope her sister and my sister did too. We'd solve all of life's problems. I need some time like that again. Maybe this summer I can get together with some gals and have that kind of thing going.
Oh off on another tangent. In that little house there was a floor heater then a wall heater so sleeping with our doors closed meant we could freeze through the night. So I never learned to sleep with my door closed. Now everyone that has central heating or zoned heat says, "you must sleep with your door closed to prevent a spreading fire. Still can't do it. floor furnace or badly placed air conditioners means the doors need to be open.
On the other hand. I have a stinky teen who keeps his door closed most of the time for privacy and noise reduction. phew, you open that door and smell teen age boy. It makes me nuts. I try to go spray his room each day but there's nothing I can do to eliminate that funk. It's ingrained in there like a boar den.
So I should be knitting or crocheting but there's not a comfy place to do that right now. I guess I'll just mosey back to bed and count the whistles of the hubster's sleep machine or the bubbles of my night time air machine. Maybe I'll spin a tale in my sleep, something forward thinking not past.
Okay, so instead of thinking of those things, I wish I was at my grandma's house right now. It's 3 a.m. and she's cat napped most of her evening so she's awake and asked me if the light would bother me. She's either going to crochet, or read her Bible. I tell her I'll join her. I've either got some hand sewing, knitting or crocheting of my own to do. She'll turn on KVOO and we'll sing along to the old country songs. If she's reading, she'll start humming some hymn that has to do with what she's reading. I'll pick up on it and start humming or singing along. Those were the best times. I could put Jeffy, my then 1-2 year old son in the other bedroom either with my cousin Penny or alone and crack the door. They would sleep on. Penny had her times like this too. I only hope her sister and my sister did too. We'd solve all of life's problems. I need some time like that again. Maybe this summer I can get together with some gals and have that kind of thing going.
Oh off on another tangent. In that little house there was a floor heater then a wall heater so sleeping with our doors closed meant we could freeze through the night. So I never learned to sleep with my door closed. Now everyone that has central heating or zoned heat says, "you must sleep with your door closed to prevent a spreading fire. Still can't do it. floor furnace or badly placed air conditioners means the doors need to be open.
On the other hand. I have a stinky teen who keeps his door closed most of the time for privacy and noise reduction. phew, you open that door and smell teen age boy. It makes me nuts. I try to go spray his room each day but there's nothing I can do to eliminate that funk. It's ingrained in there like a boar den.
So I should be knitting or crocheting but there's not a comfy place to do that right now. I guess I'll just mosey back to bed and count the whistles of the hubster's sleep machine or the bubbles of my night time air machine. Maybe I'll spin a tale in my sleep, something forward thinking not past.
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