I hate feeling like this

Sometimes I just can’t tell the difference between being in touch with my feelings and expressing them appropriately – or playing the Stage IV card and milking it for all it’s worth. I’m having a rotten week or so and you, Internet, are the lucky puppy who gets to hear all about it.

First of all someone I care about a great deal is going through a terrible life-changing passage right now and I can’t do anything to help. That makes me feel helpless as well grieving for the losses in my friend’s life.

Next. Remember my friend who was found dead, murdered, in his home? I have had to be involved in some of the settling of his affairs because I was listed as next of kin. This week I had to pay a large bill to the water company for water usage after his death. The company does not care that he is dead and the flat is empty and doesn’t belong to me. They dunned me anyway. (My lawyer is on it.) This added to my feelings of impotence and frustration and grief.

Then there’s been my health. Mundane little health things, not cancer. I had a little bit of a fever (which is an issue because of the low neutrophil count) and stomach problems. I stumbled and hurt (fractured?) another toe. My chronic cough worsened (probably because of staying in bed with the fever). Nothing dramatic, just enough to make me feel like something you’d scrape off the bottom of your shoe. The stupid toe hurts and so do various other joints. The weather’s changing and I’m not twenty anymore.

And the pain, of course. (We’re on to the cancer now, if you’re playing along at home.) The bone pain is increasing to the point where I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to cope without narcotics. I’m taking maximum daily doses of Advil supplemented with something called Tramadex (known as Tramadol in the US). It is a very weak  μ-opioid receptor agonist but provides pain relief similar to that of codeine, which I can’t take, and I don’t react to it badly as I do to stronger opioids. But I think I’m coming to the end of that road. Not sure what the next step will be.

What else is driving me nuts? Well, since you asked…

  • My house is not as clean (spotless) as I’d like it to be. I don’t have the strength or balance to do any more than I’m doing, and my household helper can only do so much in the hours I can afford to pay him.
  • My eyes are not as good as they used to be, which means that I have had to give up making lace. I still hope I’ll be able to take it up again, but the knitting I’m doing instead just isn’t the same. (Though it is very cool that I knitted my first pair of socks with a turned heel.)
  • My attention span is shorter and more variable than it used to be, which means I can do even less work than I used to do. Ditto my memory.

None of this is as bad as what many other people are dealing with – bringing us back to my drama queendom. I was hesitant about posting this for that very reason, but decided to go ahead. Why? Because when I started this blog I made a decision that I would be as honest and transparent as prudence allows, and that means sometimes showing these less attractive view of my life.

Thanks for being here.

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14 thoughts on “I hate feeling like this

  1. Compared to stage IV cancer mundane health issues might seem like “nothing” to the uninitiated but sometimes it’s the little things that do us in emotionally and physically. If wearing a tiara helps then be a drama queen until you are feeling better.

  2. Dear TK:

    Nothing like perspective to keep me from slipping into my own pitypot. My experience of late is a heartbreaking awareness of how wishful thinking and focusing SOLEY on the good things creates liablities. LIfe is a mixed bag of blessings I see and ones I don’t recognize. The latter suck but I am pushing forward in the hope that they are for a purpose – not the least of which might be to let someone else know s/he is not alone. Thank you for bridging the gap so often for me and pulling me out of my isolation. It is my belief that presence is the greatest gift we share with each other, and you do it wonderfully, albeit digitally.

    SM

  3. well Knots, with your daily posts you keep the rest of us grounded. i am sure you are on quite a few prayer lists as well. Does that help? well having had a miracle or two in Life 101 due to others prayers i’d say i hope so.

    i have found the small things often just add up and as i age with its accompanying aches and pains it is what it is……………

    last time i checked we are all human………..Be kind to the one some of luv call Knot Tellin…..

  4. I have followed you for Months because you are over all so upbeat and keep me putting this fight in perspective. I am blessed enough not to have cancer myself but as a caregiver do feel it’s been beneficial to me to put my self more squarely in the shoes of someone who does.

    Valerie got so bad in the hospital this week that she called the nurses a bitch and lit a cigarette right in the room. I have just returned from a trip I had to make and know that She really does better with me there but maybe this is just a sign of how much the Chemo has altered her thinking and I am failing to recognize this as the new Valerie. I hope not.

    Right now I am beginning to see why people place their family members in nursing homes. She is acting like I am trying to control her and is becoming sneaky and this is over stuff that could kill her! I am not trying to control her … I just want her as safe and healthy as we can keep her. That includes not ODing or making her so drugged she can’t make it to the bathroom without the help she is refusing to ask for.

    I am beginning to fear falling asleep. She is very unstable and has hurt her back trying to get out of bed without help with me in the bed next to her. Thank God I woke up to roll her back on to the bed because she wasn’t strong enough to get back in or stand up and was shaking from the strain of holding that position.

    I have stopped blogging mostly because my family and friends follow my blog and I really can’t share this with them. This is the part that my being here was supposed to make easier.
    I don’t know if I can remain impartial enough to pull it off.

    If you think of it, we could use your prayers…I know of nothing else that will be of any help what-so-ever.

  5. I have come to this post late, TK, but know that you are allowed some drama queen moments. Yes it is the small things that oft times seem to bug us the most :-), and tip us over, but we are here to listen and pray.
    Blessings
    Maxine

  6. I visit because I think you’re so good at expressing yourself appropriately, because I care, and because I honestly want to know how you’re doing. Thank you for sharing your truth with us.

  7. And again, I am so grateful to everyone who leaves a comment. When I’m feeling down like I was when I wrote this post, it is a wonderful reminder that I am not alone.

    Not to mention permission to wear my tiara… 😉

  8. I ran into your post while looking for stress articles for my nursing project on how humor decreases stress. I must say that you are one of a kind. It is normal to go through what you are going through, because I see it everyday where I work. You simply have to take each day at a time and not stress yourself about what could come. I know words are easier said than done but I believe it is the key to happiness. Thank you for sharing your story and allow us all to learn from your inspiration. It is people like you that help to not only educate but to truly help others as you share your journey. I will pray for you and keep you in my thoughts.

  9. Thanks for your comment, CSS. Now that you’re here, I hope you’ll come back and visit often. I used to be a nurse, too. It’s kind of a shame that I didn’t know then what I know now.

    But as far as being one of a kind, you know what they say: I’m unique – just like everyone else.

  10. Milk it all you like, darling- the key is doing it well, which you do. That you do it well and when you’re hurting and unwell makes you a queen in my book, and not the drama kind. *hugs*

  11. Pingback: Fundamentally happy « Telling Knots

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