Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Mentally Exhausting
Who knew that breaking an ankle would be more mentally exhausting than physically? That’s how it stands right now for me. This post is really just for me...as I sit here and struggle with a few things this very moment.
Here it is, almost 3am and I’m too afraid to take my Oxycodene because I know it will knock me out and I know what’s on the other side of that. I’m so damn tired and want to sleep so badly yet I’m scared to go to sleep because I don’t want anymore nightmares.
As if that isn’t bad enough, the Oxycodene causes minor hallucinations even when I’m awake.
“Holy shit, there’s a large dog over there in the neighbor’s yard!” Squeeze my eyes shut, open them again and it’s just the construction “saw horse” that has been there for a week now.
Earlier in the day I sat outside for a spell, just to get some fresh air and saw two frogs hopping around at the top of the driveway. I swear they disappeared right in front of my eyes.
My hearing seems to be even more acute than it normally is. I’ve always had really good hearing but now I seem to hear things....knocking at the door for instance. I look out my bedroom window where I can see the front door...no one is there.
So I take this drug as little as possible. Luckily, elevating the leg seems to keep the pain at bay for the most part so I can deal with that.
I do need sleep though. Instead, I’ve been reading until I find that my mind has wandered off in its own thoughts and I come to realizing I just read an entire page and yet have no idea what I just read.
But I don’t want to lay the book down and allow my mind to think because I know what it will grasp onto. I have stated many times I am extremely claustrophobic and having a cast on my leg only causes the panic to take over if I sit here and think about it too long.
So I sit here and try to convince myself it’s all crap...I mean, it is really mind over matter afterall. I tell myself it’s a soft cast; that if I really wanted to get it off, I could. I have even gone out to the garage to study my brother’s tools just to soothe the rising anxieties and solidify in my head that yes, see, that’s a fact. It can be removed when I want it.
That is really the biggest thing about my claustrophobia. If I know I can get out, or be set free or escape when I want to, I’m usually okay.
Then I reason with myself that medically, logically, it’s better that the cast is on. Tell myself to remember what it was like when they first changed the splints and although for about 5 seconds I felt relief to have the thing off of me, I instantly wanted one back on because my leg could not support itself---the splint or cast is necessary and feels better.
I remember going through this when I had a fiberglass cast on my leg way back when I was in the Army and had torn some ligaments in my ankle...(honestly can’t remember if it was the same one)...and that time it was harder because it was a hard cast and I had no means to remove it.
One good thing this time around is that I have a “tool” to relieve me from any itching I experience. When I got ready to move down here, I decided to bring my American flag with me to display in the car on Sep 11th to show my patriotism. It’s the kind you hold in your hand and wave at say parades or other such events. The pole itself is small enough to fit down into my cast so that I may scratch away and yet sturdy enough to not break, (knock on wood), and so far, I’ve been able to reach all itches. That fact alone will probably keep me sane.
I just have a few weeks of struggle with my claustrophobia and the horrendous nightmares I’ve been having that linger upon wakening. This could break me or make me incredibly strong.
I refuse to let it break me....no matter how tired I get. I will just have to continue to keep fighting each wave of fear as it crashes down on me, trying to suffocate me.
And I know, there will be times when I realize that the nightmares will be less scary for me than staying awake and dealing with my claustrophobia. At least with the drug induced nightmares, I wake up and they go away.
I guess it’s time to take my medication. Why do I always hear Nurse Cratchett in my head when it’s time to take my drugs?
“Medication time. Medication time.” Thankfully no one puts on an old 45 and blares out the horrid music. At least of that I am spared.
[update] On Today’s DIN: I was in a high rise and we were awaiting the nuclear war that was going to hit any minute now...knowing we were about to all die.
I didn’t have enough energy to write it down when it woke me up but I do remember the scene of being in a high rise with hundreds of others, looking out over a barren landscape, and waiting for the blast to hit. Oh yah, these are fun.
