Monday, March 30, 2009

plans

Ok, so I'm on this new medicine. I'm transitioning from my old meds, to Cymbalta, for fibromyalgia. In theory, I should start to have some relief in a few weeks.

In the mean time, switching off of the old med, onto this new one, is wreaking havoc with my thinker. Thanks fsm for spell check, because concentrating is like navigating through a fog.

But soon, hopefully, I'll be seeing some of that relief.

Right now, the medicine combination I'm on gets me enough focus and energy to work. Either from home or - ideally - in the office. But there isn't much left of me once the work day is over. I come home and collapse. Joe's weekly game night was at our house two weeks ago, and I was in so much pain and so tired that I couldn't even muster the energy to go downstairs to say hello, much less join in. Weekends are catching up time. Sleep 12 to 14 hours. Get a few things done if I'm lucky. Sleep another 12 to 14 hours. Hello, Monday. Rinse, repeat.

My time when I'm not working is all recovering from having worked. If I have to run up and down the halls retrieving lots of pages from the printer all day, or to meetings, or if I have to park in the furthest reaches of the parking lot, the impact on my system is even heavier.

Today, the med transition clobbered me. Too foggy to think in a straight line most of the day. It's evening, and my Mister has brought me dinner. I'm scooping up some of the thoughts I've had today and dropping them here.

So, what do I most hope for from success with the new medication?

I'd really love to have a little bit of energy left at the end of each work day to do something fun. I miss knitting. I miss reading for pleasure, which the worst brain fog of exhaustion often robs me of. I miss quilting. Spring is here... I'd like to fly a kite again this year. I'd love to finish unpacking the boxes from our move- we moved in December, after all, and it's now almost April.

I'm not expecting to ever be able to go on hikes again. I don't expect I'll be flying my parafoil stunt kite in anything but light winds again. Standing all day at Disneyland is probably right out of the "ever going to happen again" set of options.

But I'd love to have the energy to walk around my yard and pick up the sticks that fell out of the trees over the winter. I'd like to be able to help my Mister to mow the lawn. And I desperately want to have the energy to crafts again.

I've got a bunch of craft projects in my "queue".

  • The friend of a dear friend needs a knitted womb. Should be a one to two evening project if I can focus enough to knit in the round.
  • Another dear friend sent me yarn he spun himself for a knitted Cthulhu. Another one to two day project if I can only get the energy to start.
  • I've got a baby quilt stewing in my brain that needs bringing to fruition.
  • I already have the yarn for a special baby hat for a friend's little bitty.
  • I have frogged and restarted a project for my Grandmother several times, but my foggy brain keeps throwing wrenches into the pattern.
  • There are several projects I'd love to knit for myself. I have the yarn already for most of them.
  • There are several mixed media projects stewing in the back of my brain, waiting for a chance to escape.
  • Did I mention all that unpacking that needs doing? It'll be lovely when it's done.
All projects aside, a few nights' sleep without waking up because of this pain or that would be bliss.

So I'm taking this new med. Wading through the fog and funk of the transition from old pharmaceutical to new. And have my fingers crossed that some of the things I've lost will be found again at the other end.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Rest in Peace, little Space Bat dude

My Mister and I have been following the news about the now-famous free tail bat who accompanied space shuttle Discovery on its most recent launch. Tragically, NASA reports that Space Bat "likely perished quickly during Discovery’s climb into orbit."

You'll find more details and photos at NASA.gov, and a touching tribute to Space Bat on the Space Bat Memorial page.

In the words of an unknown forum poster at space-bat.com, "Damnit, I promised I wouldn't cry".