Tuesday – Can’t Write, Must Sleep
Jun. 14th, 2011 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
.
.
What’s it been? Two weeks? More?
I think if I could sleep, I’d be able to write. I want to write. I think about writing every day. But evening rolls around, and I fall into bed and can’t move.
Until 3 AM, that is. That’s when I wake up. The first time. And then at 3:30, or maybe 4. This waking at 30 to 60 minute intervals continues until my alarm goes off and I drag myself into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.
Which lead me to make this declaration: miracles are overrated.
For 6 years I had limited motion in my right arm. It started out as a shooting pain that happened every time I move my arm, which made me stop moving it, which (due to the law of “use it lose it”) made me lose the ability to lift it over my head or reach behind my back. When I finally got around to seeing a doctor, he told me it was tendonitis, and that by not using it I had sentenced myself to an arm that had lost its range of motion until the end of time.
Which is why I thought it was pretty cool last fall when I first realized that I could reach behind my head again last November or so. And reaching for things and not having the arm stop short has been kind of nice. I never stopped trying to use the arm (at least, not after the initial pain of the original tendonitis – or swelling of the tendon – stopped), because arms are for reaching and the instinct to use the arm never went away. And I’m glad to have it back. At least I am until 3 AM every morning, when I wake up in pain.
It’s not an excruciating pain; it isn’t the sort of pain that makes me scream or cry. It’s just the exact right amount of pain to wake me up, and no more. Taking over-the-counter pain killers helps a bit (that’s how I sleep until 3 rather than waking up at 1 or 2). Even the 8 hour pills don’t help much. I take those now. I still wake up at three.
As long as I am using the arm during the day, moving and reaching and scratching and writing, it doesn’t hurt. But laying on it while I sleep, or leaving it in the same position too long whether I’m laying on it or not, causing the tendon to swell and throb. When I wake I sit up and rotate my arm like it’s a propeller until the pain subsides. Eight to ten rotations works nicely. Then I can fall back asleep until I wake up again and have to pretend to take flight.
I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night uninterrupted. Probably back when I was writing regularly. I have bags under my eyes. I should make an appointment with a doctor and try to convince them to either give me something to stop the pain or something to help me sleep through it. Either one. I don’t care.
But that’s where I’ve been. Around. Writing entries in my head and dragging ass.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
What’s it been? Two weeks? More?
I think if I could sleep, I’d be able to write. I want to write. I think about writing every day. But evening rolls around, and I fall into bed and can’t move.
Until 3 AM, that is. That’s when I wake up. The first time. And then at 3:30, or maybe 4. This waking at 30 to 60 minute intervals continues until my alarm goes off and I drag myself into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.
Which lead me to make this declaration: miracles are overrated.
For 6 years I had limited motion in my right arm. It started out as a shooting pain that happened every time I move my arm, which made me stop moving it, which (due to the law of “use it lose it”) made me lose the ability to lift it over my head or reach behind my back. When I finally got around to seeing a doctor, he told me it was tendonitis, and that by not using it I had sentenced myself to an arm that had lost its range of motion until the end of time.
Which is why I thought it was pretty cool last fall when I first realized that I could reach behind my head again last November or so. And reaching for things and not having the arm stop short has been kind of nice. I never stopped trying to use the arm (at least, not after the initial pain of the original tendonitis – or swelling of the tendon – stopped), because arms are for reaching and the instinct to use the arm never went away. And I’m glad to have it back. At least I am until 3 AM every morning, when I wake up in pain.
It’s not an excruciating pain; it isn’t the sort of pain that makes me scream or cry. It’s just the exact right amount of pain to wake me up, and no more. Taking over-the-counter pain killers helps a bit (that’s how I sleep until 3 rather than waking up at 1 or 2). Even the 8 hour pills don’t help much. I take those now. I still wake up at three.
As long as I am using the arm during the day, moving and reaching and scratching and writing, it doesn’t hurt. But laying on it while I sleep, or leaving it in the same position too long whether I’m laying on it or not, causing the tendon to swell and throb. When I wake I sit up and rotate my arm like it’s a propeller until the pain subsides. Eight to ten rotations works nicely. Then I can fall back asleep until I wake up again and have to pretend to take flight.
I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night uninterrupted. Probably back when I was writing regularly. I have bags under my eyes. I should make an appointment with a doctor and try to convince them to either give me something to stop the pain or something to help me sleep through it. Either one. I don’t care.
But that’s where I’ve been. Around. Writing entries in my head and dragging ass.
