Last night I hit the max. I was tired (got up at 6:30 AM in order to be at the bone scan by 9:00); my arm was still acting up (bandaged since 5 PM); my port was accessed (so I could get the Zometa today and only have one stick).
By the time I got into bed I was a bundle of aches and frustrations. No matter how I tried, I couldn't get comfortable. Taking the nightly 0.5 mg dose of Ativan didn't help, so I took another half-milligram. I tried yoga breathing but couldn't stop twitching. Songs from the choir rehearsal earlier in the evening were stuck in my brain. Even a third half-milligram of Ativan couldn't relax me.
After tossing and turning for more than two hours, I was on the verge of tears when I finally figured it out. I can't take it any more. The combined stress of lymphedema flare ups, new cancer worries, and a sense that I have over-committed myself on too many fronts collided. I tore off the bandaging as fast as I could, thrashing around the whole time.
It's a wonder RIk got any sleep at all. It was about 2 AM by the time I had my epiphany. Eventually I fell asleep too.
Today I had my annual physical exam with my primary care doctor. She reinforced that I need to take a break from dealing with the lymphedema flare up and just go back to my usual coping for a while. So I will try the sleeve/glove during the day and nothing at night and see how things go. I cancelled my remaining physical therapy appointments and can always reschedule if needed. In a week or two I'll order new garments that hopefully will fit better.
I may have to adjust to another "new normal" with the lymphedema and learn to accept a larger hand and arm. I'm not quite ready to do that yet. Taking a break may help me adjust.
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I remember when I was in treatment and friends would ask Ronni if things were back to normal. Her response was "yes, but the definiton of normal keeps changing."
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