I’m only having two or three full body mega flare nights each week now…nights where the pain is out of control…nights where I lie on an electric blanket with a heated throw on top…nights where the pain is all consuming and there is little hope for sleep…nights where I breathe, and let my mind wander though my body can’t…and I wait.
Wait for morning, or maybe and hour or two of peace, in that state between waking and sleep, when you’re not truly in either place. But you’re still aware.
I cry sometimes. But mostly I’m still. I debate whether to go over my oxycodone allowance. Not because it’s dangerous for me at this dose to take a little more. But because of dependence and tolerance and when do you push that envelope too far? There has to be a line you refuse to cross. There IS a line you can’t come back from.
So sometimes I take an extra dose and choose relief. And sometimes I hold firm at the line. And I wait for morning.
But these nights used to be every night. And now most nights the pain is controlled with narcotics, at least well enough to sleep. And that is a huge leap forward. In fact It’s like travelling back in time. Clawing back a few years…back to better days….nights.
That doesn’t mean that tonight doesn’t s*ck b*lls, to quote my eloquent teenage son. But no matter how bad it gets, I’m grateful that it’s not every night anymore.
And if that kind of improvement can happen for me, it can happen for anyone. It’s possible. I hope so, anyway.