I’m sitting on my boyfriend’s couch at dawn on the winter solstice. Actually, I’m not sure if it’s dawn or not still, as the sun doesn’t rise in the Pacific Northwest this time of year, it just sort of becomes less gray for a few hours before it’s dark again. That’s why I’m traditionally so fond of the winter solstice – I know that from here forward until the summer solstice, the days will get longer and brighter. It’s a metaphor, really. A reminder that the darkest days are behind me and that my future is literally going to be brighter.
It’s a reminder I need right this moment as I sit here on the couch in front of my computer because my arm fell asleep while I was sleeping again, which woke me up. Again. This is due to low blood pressure. The low blood pressure is due to the Oxycodone and Gabapentin mostly. Unfortunately, potent as these painkillers are, they’re not effective enough to calm the screaming pain coming from the healing incision under my right breast. It’s a pain that is both searing hot and freezing cold at the same time. It’s sharp and loud and so intense, it’s debilitating. I have to press the elbow of my right arm against my side so that I don’t disrupt the spot at all. The only thing that treats it is a Lidocaine patch, placed carefully above and below the incision. I can only wear this for twelve hours on and twelve hours off. I’m unable to place it myself, so I have to rely on Mike to do it. Right now, I have to rely on Mike to do nearly everything. But he’s sleeping. The sweet man has gotten little regular sleep since I went in to have my tumor removed last Monday, so I’m trying to let him rest. Continue reading