Where I am...

That  pesky non-stop nausea is back.  I didn't realize that it had finally gone.  I was thinking back to the last time I mentioned it in a doctor's appointment and it was just about two weeks ago.  So, it has not been all that long.  But it is back ... thanks to the increase in the duloxetine.

SIGH.

I haven't been in a good place since last Monday and that wretched CT scan appointment.  What didn't help was how church went on Wednesday.  All I can think is that I have no business trying to be a part of a church.  All I keep thinking about is how this was a portent of how all those extra services will go ... Advent, Lent, Easter.

Trying to talk about it has been a disaster for me, leaving me rather despairing.  My struggles are too much to share without burdening others, without hurting them.  Hearing that just broke me.

Feeling this way and thinking about where that leaves me has not gone well when mixed with being pukey 24/7.  I sure wish Amos could understand me, could understand when I tell him how pukey I am.  He's incredibly tuned to me when I am emotionally distraught, but not so much when my digestive system is distraught.  He's been more interested in playing "fetch," now that he's fully grasped that concept, than curling up beside me as I moan and groan.

Even with this re-set of bodily misery, I am grateful to be trying the increase of duloxetine.  I keep trying to make a chart or something to try and show how much gabapentin and baclofen have helped with pain.  The duloxetine is clearly making a difference with the neuralgias.  Even with the new one with my tongue, glossopharyngeal neuralgia, the overall instances of neuralgia flares have decreased in frequency and intensity, save for the ones in my tongue.

I have also had some days where the intensity in my hands seems less.  I cannot decide if it is because I want it to be that way or if it actually is.  Still, the duloxetine would be worth it if it isn't.

I long with my entire being for the constant shocking to stop.  Thirteen months later, I have not gotten used to it.  A small part of me rages against both he pain and the lack of control I have in my fingers from all the jerking that they do.  But another part of me merely sighs deeply at yet another new normal I must endure.

That ... and ... well ... since last Monday, I have been stuffing my face with smarties.  Millions of them.  I am not a stress eater, but I have sort of become one since the middle of October, with all of that MRI agony.  I am not particularly fond of smarties, but I had a bag of them.  Had being the operative word.

Tomorrow is a new day though, eh?  There might not be less nausea, but I have no more smarties in the house.  That's something at least.  I'd like to stop embarrassing myself with my outlandish sugar fest.

SIGH.