“The muscles in my arms are stiff as the pain ripples through them, into my upper back, and up my neck.” I tell the nurse as she cleans my wounds again. “The pain was very intense last night and has been most of today.”
She shows concern and asks me a few follow up questions, which I can’t remember as I write this entry half an hour before midnight. My appointment at the wound care clinic was at 3pm today, so I know there won’t be any doctors on the floor for them to talk to. My best hope is that she makes a note of it in my file for someone to review next week.
One question I do remember is if I’ve heard back from the specialist I saw two weeks ago. “No, I’ve not heard anything from his office.”
“Maybe no news is good news then?” She says with a smile, and it’s an answer I’ve relayed verbatim to others myself over the last week when asked if I’d heard anything on that front.
I still feel dizzy today. Weak. This morning before breakfast my blood glucose was 14.7 mmol/L. I had two double yolk eggs, over-easy, with a couple of slices of bacon. All organic. No toast. I then had a short nap, and my reading was 14.6 mmol/L, a slight victory for me, as usually it’s gone up after I eat.
I didn’t do any journaling today. But I did read the first few pages of a book by Dr Elizabeth Maynard Schaefer, WRITING THROUGH THE DARKNESS which purports to offer “…a menu of writing approaches—freewriting, memoir, poetry, and storytelling—to alleviate the anguish, confusion, and pain associated with depression.” I decided to turn to it as my writing has so often focussed on how my anxiety and major depression feels in the moment, but seldom do I look at how I can move past it - which is something I need to start actualizing if I want to move past this shit.
If you look at this photo closely you can see the hole in my left foot’s great toe that’s taking forever to heal. I think I need to put to writing the symptoms I’ve had since they put me on these horse pill antibiotics. Something I can give to the wound care nurse on Tuesday.
The pain is just too much. I gotta get it under control.
Tomorrow I’ll try to cut the grass.
(96/366).