Wow. A month’s gone by since I blogged. Sorry. It’s just been one of those months. My good news is that the hip is healing well. Had to work hard on it and two or three weeks ago if I’d been here you would have heard me crying. But it was worth it, and now I’m very nearly as mobile as I was before the accident.
The not so good news is I’m on the edge of a possible slide into relapse. Not wishing that on myself. It’s just that I know how these things go. This is, after all, my 27th autumn with ME, and probably 25 of them have slid into winter relapses that lasted until spring, or summer, or on three occasions right through the following winter too.
So it’s there. Staring me in the face. Daring me to overdo stuff and bring it on. All I have to measure it with is my productivity. Through August and into September I was averaging 1k Space Train words per evening, 6 or 7 evenings per week. These past two weeks I’ve averaged maybe 5k per week. Only a small dip, but significant when allied with feeling generally shit in that good old ME way.
I’m not afraid. Not stupid, either, so I won’t be challenging the beast. But I’m not afraid of it. Still writing every evening that I can. Still enjoying this novel and aiming to have it finished this year.
Wish me luck! 🙂
6 days since the injury. Learning to maintain the fine balance between careful movement to prevent all my soft tissue and muscle stuff in there seizing, and too much movement that will keep tearing the stuff that I hope is trying to heal.
I hope this metaphorical balancing act won’t be too difficult, because even careful movement hurts like a high-pitched screech. And frequently causes them, although I cut them off quickly because they’re embarrassing.
I’ve found a manoeuvre that reduces the pain of a certain movement. One of the screechy moves is my right leg sliding forward delicately to meet my left one. You know, like a step, only reduced to a six-inch shuffle. Moving backwards aches sickeningly, but it isn’t sharp like going forward. So in the middle of the night when I couldn’t persuade my bladder to wait any longer and had to walk to the bathroom, I discovered that if I move sideways it isn’t as bad.
Lesson learned. I’m walking like a crab, left foot out to the side, right foot raised gently until only the ball of my foot touches the floor like a dancer in slow motion, then gently bring it to rest alongside left foot. And repeat. It’s a slow walk, but it doesn’t bring a hot wave of near-faint pain and lights dancing in my vision as the price for every six inches of horizontal progress.
Next mission will be to conquer the stairs problem. Because my bed is up there.
Hip update: my hip isn’t broken, but it’s a mess of torn muscle and soft tissue. Would have been better if it had been broken, because that would have been fixable.
Injury pain + standard ME pain amplification = 16 on the normal 1-to-10 scale. Healing time: months, or years, or maybe never. Because it’s muscle, and ME is all about the muscles. For now, I’m immobile because it’s agony every time I move it, and of course at some point the inevitable ME post-injury-and-hospital etc exhaustion will arrive.
They morphined me up in hospital, but I’m not continuing with that now I’m home. If it’s in any way possible I want to continue with my normal maximum dosage codeine & paracetamol painkiller regime, which never takes the pain away but does dull the edges of it sufficiently for me to get maybe an hour or two of sleep every 6 hours. Taking something that dulls my brain and therefore stops me writing is not on the cards unless it becomes the only way I can stop screaming 24/7/ so wouldn’t be writing anyway. Not at that point yet, and pray I don’t reach it.
Okay. Apology for this stream of consciousness. Hope it makes some sense.