Baxter seems to have a timeline that's different than my own. He's scootin along pretty well. The damn thing is making me more tired and in need of more sleep. Even if when I take a nap I can't sleep well the next night. Weird. He's upping the pain a bit too. Now I'm not so certain that the constant ache in my neck and shoulders isn't more Baxter related than mechanics. Mechanics will adjust, if you do it correctly, and get some better. Mine isn't. I'm retaining more fluid in my face and neck than I was at one time as well. I'm wondering if that's not part of what's shaking with Baxter.
Now, there are some upside to go along with the down sides as well. I mean, for one I'm legally stoned. I can't take the add on pain med until I'm done running around for the day, because I can't hit my ass with both hands, a map, and a compass. But I do rest. Some of the effects of that are a reduction in secretion output. That makes me aspirate less, cough less up the tube, and thank God drool less as well. That helps with the self esteem thing. I can't feel my chin or lips very well since all the surgery, so I can't tell if I'm drooling or not. That leads to some, well not embarrassing, but pain in the ass moments when you realize people aren't staring at your overall condition, but rather the pretty rainbow hanging off your chin. Yummy. So, the drugs kinda ease that off a bit, but I can't drive myself anywhere when I'm on the add on. That also means I don't have to drag my suction around with me to keep from flooding the area I'm standing or sitting in. Nice.
The dreams have been neat. Not as cool as the screwed up, overly erotic dreams I had taking Chantix. That's part of the reason I had to stop, that and I felt lost and goofy as hell on the stuff the second time I tried to take it. Wooo!! I had no idea my mind worked like that in my subconscious. I wish I coulda remembered all of them and written them down. What smut books those would have made. Neat stuff for certain. No, these dreams are just vivid and very detailed. With some spooky shit thrown in for good measure, I guess. I dreamed that I was lying in bed, when someone or something came in, jumped on my chest, plugged my trach and covered my mouth and nose. Huge fight ensues, I get whoever is after me on the ground, and am breaking an elbow, when I get help holding him/it still. I told him/it, to get out and never come to try that shit again. Broke it's elbow, let it up and it ran off. I woke up. Weird, right? What the hell is THAT shit about? Most of the dreams are pretty mundane. From talking with the Grandparents, to riding Fat Girl, to just sitting enjoying someone's company. Dull as hell stuff. The really nice reward would be the super erotic dreams of Chantix time. There's a bonus for slowly fading away!!
My focus seems to be a bit better as well. That's a plus. I don't know if it's because there is so little going on that I'm more able to settle on one idea or duty and whip that shit out, or if it's because I'm secretly nesting trying to get things in order so Liz won't have to later on. Either way it's a plus. If I find myself getting a little cluttered or scattered with my thoughts, I can generally scoot those to the sidelines better now. Well, with the exception of rambling on in this blog. I'm even talking with my Hospice nurse about why I'd rather stay ahead of supplies 2-3 weeks, rather than hustling to get them out. The Hospice doesn't like to keep more than a week ahead of anything. Foolish, that's constantly having to order and reorder meds and supplies for the people they care for, rather than spending time finding out what concerns or small things they don't think to mention at a visit. That extra ten minutes per visit may not seem like much, but it can make a difference in easing someone's mind a bit.
Okay, I'm drugging up to go see a movie. Y'all have fun, and go do something I would.
That oughta leave you plenty of leeway for the day
