Last night I lay in the darkness, longing for the sweet oblivion of sleep...a temporary reprieve from the reality of pain and discomfort...maybe the bonus of a romantic dream with a sexy hunk.
After two hours of chasing thoughts: yesterday's regrets, today's worries, tomorrow's to-dos; I finally shuffled down the hall for a 2:30 am blood-check. I clock in at a conscious and lucid 45. Nibbling a miniature Hershey bar and sipping a 15-carb apple juice, the fluorescent kitchen glare revives my tired eyes for round two of insomnia with fatigue-enhanced pain. After three hours of restless sleep, I drag my tired butt out of bed.
Having more than one chronic condition, along with medication/treatment side effects, creates a tangled mess of symptoms. Trying to determine exactly what causes what symptom is more difficult than detangling a box of miniature Christmas lights wearing mittens and a blindfold. I live in a fog of fatigue.
In my last entry, I mentioned a day of (literally-$$$) double-billing physician appointments. I had a performance with a periodontist in the morning. After my mid-morning/lunchtime break, I had an afternoon appearance request by a pulmonologist following my sleep study audition.
Donning my "jammies" for my sleep study, the sleep tech hooked various electrodes to my head and legs. An oxygen monitor was clipped to my index finger, a glowing red ET prop..."Ouch." In hi-tech fashion, I was spied on and cyber-analyzed during a fitful night of zzz's. The pulmonolgist reviewed my results to discuss possible problems with me.
The diagnostic verdict: I sleep like crap, no singular reason outside of Stiff Person pain or nocturnal sugar plummets. With the promise of each new day, I drag my sleep-deprived derriere out of bed.
"Not being able to sleep is terrible. You have the misery of having partied all night... without the satisfaction."
~Lynn Johnston~
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