Tuesday, March 08, 2005

So Leann came home from the hospital today. I happened to be visiting her and they said they could discharge her, so I offered and then drove her home. She cried. She said she didn't know if she was ready for home. Tomorrow, I go to visit her and see what she needs, if anything. I wish I knew someone at her church to coordinate efforts better.

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Today was a good day. It felt like 50% most of the day, but much better than the -50% I felt yesterday. And then tonight, I got my groove back and Mike and I cleaned the health disaster scuzz-pit, also known as the kitchen. I had nearly forgotten that my countertops are white. My floor remains a shade of gray with spots, but will await my efforts tomorrow. I've also got to get shelves stained for the bedroom and let them dry. It's gonna be gorgeous through the weekend, so I have to hit it while the weather holds.

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The pulmonologist says that while I have Restless Leg Syndrome that it doesn't wake me up more than usual and that it should not be a concern for me. I told him that I still feel like crapola and that I didn't think that was a good thing.

He agreed and told me to take vitamin E, stretch before bed, take warm baths before bed, and exercise soon after getting up, even if that's 10 or 11 AM and even if I feel like warmed over dog poo. He also wrote me a script for clonipin to try. He also said that I needed to make up sleep debt and that was going to take time. He compared it to money debt and said that unless I win the lottery, I'm going to have to make small payments like everyone else.

*sigh*

He said that losing weight is the best thing I can do to get better. So I'm going to start small walking tours just to the end of our very long block. It's about a 20 minute walk. It ain't much, but it's a start.

He's going to see me in a month and see if there's improvement. If not, we'll pursue other things. He said it's possible I have some kind of narcolepsy or other sleep disorder. I don't have any symptoms of narcolepsy, so I doubt it, and I just think that I am going to have to suck it up and work on being patient, which is not a skill I have in my repertoire, even when I'm well-rested. I'm sick of being sick and that's all there is to it.

I told him I didn't want to die. He said that my apnea wasn't bad enough for dying and that he'd only ever had one patient die from it and there were a lot of complicating issues. I guess I don't want to develop those issues because the treatment hasn't been working, you know?

Oh, and he said not to worry. When I told Mike, he snorted.

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