I’ve been sleeping well most of last weekend and this week. Finally. Phew. I went to my D.O. yesterday and I can’t even tell you the number of cracks and snaps she got out of me. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My massage therapist is still working away at loosening up all of the crunchy crap in my midback. But rib #11 is still twisted out of joint on the left side, and that makes for irritation.

In the weather news, we had a delightful Indian summer day yesterday–it was in the 60’s– and then this morning I woke up to quiet, heavy snow coming down. Yummmmmmmmmm. It was still warm enough and still enough that I didn’t need a jacket to go outside and walk the dog. (But I put on my glamorous faux fur to go to work, because–really–any excuse to wear that item is a good one.) The ground is still warm, so the snow is turning to slush as soon as it hits. So, driving through Boulder is pretty much like driving through a bowl of soup. God, I love the variety of weather here. Except that the snow plow thoroughly BEANED Bubbles on the way to work today–I mean, I might as well have been in a car wash for the lack of visibility and all of the noise and rocking it caused. She was covered from head to toe, front to back. And I had even crept her way over the edge of the road and stopped and cowered in the gutter in order to avoid it.

More whining

Well, last night was rough again. At least I got 3 hrs and 45 minutes of sleep before I woke up rather than just 3 hrs. I laid there for a good hour and a half trying to find a comfortable position and then getting up and stretching and then trying to find a comfortable position again. I was determined to not do any drugs because I really don’t want to get addicted to them or take them so often that I get inured to them and require higher and higher dosages. Finally, I was pushed into doing what I probably should have been doing already: just resigning myself to the decent probability possibility that I wouldn’t fall back asleep and instead laying on my back, relaxing the back of my tongue, letting my eyes fall to the back of the sockets, and simply paying attention to the remaining pain and feeling it fully.

In short, it sucked. It was intense. It was crazy making. It made me want to jump out of my skin. And somewhere in there, I fell asleep.

But, today, I feel exhausted. I feel kinda weak and sore. Like I’ve been beat up in a back alley. I’m so tired of this.

Update on the pain

I took the day off and spent most of it moving slowly to get showered and dressed (because I felt so toxic and nauseous at first), then laid on the floor and did all sorts of stretches and exercises to try to get my muscles opened up. I made a little progress, but as soon as they let go, they were damn sore.

I went over to my physical therapist this afternoon and she did some work on me and found that my diaphragm had tightened around the aorta and twisted it. Yeeeesh. No wonder I felt crappy and toxic. After I while, I practically fell asleep on the table and am feeling a bit better now, although I still feel like just doing nothing for the rest of the evening.

Last night just sucked. I haven’t had an uninterrupted night’s sleep in almost a week, except for Monday night and, that night, I had a nightmare instead. I’ve been waking up fairly regularly about 3 hours into my sleep and I just can’t get comfortable. The muscles all around my diaphragm are tight. Which makes it hard to breathe. Which only contributes to whatever unconscious anxiety I already have from other things in my life.

I even took 5 mg of Valium before bed, hoping to head it off, but then finally around 4 AM, after 3 hours of laying awake and trying to sleep and then getting up and stretching and then trying to sleep, I took another 5 mg. I slept, but I woke up at 9 feeling a little dizzy and nauseous. Kind of like I had been oxygen deprived.

I’m not going to work today. This is just crazy making. I suppose I could rack it up to working 3 days in a row for the first time in 6 months, but I’m not sure that’s it. Or maybe I underestimate the freedom to move about during the day once a work week.

I’m really sick of this.

Doo OK

I worried myself sick yesterday about my elderly dog’s upcoming dental procedure, and by the time I got Doo to the vet, I was in tears as I handed him over. I apologized for my emotional state and commented how worried I get now whenever we have to do something like this, and they totally understood. I think, out of sympathy for me, they experimented with using a lower dosage of anesthetic for Doo plus giving him lots of fluids to help him metabolize it and homeopathics to help with alertness, and it worked fine! He was bright and cheery and HUNGRY by bed time and has been fine ever since. Yay!

Thanks, Universe, for giving me more time with my munchkin.