I finally got out of bed in hope that at least Rik would sleep well. The dogs, of course, sleep through everything except their hunger. I'm ensconced on the sofa, with the iPad in my lap. I expect that I will eventually fall asleep. It may not be until six in the morning, which is usually what happens when I actually force myself out of bed to deal with sleeplessness. That's also the time those dogs get hungry.
Insomnia may seem like the least of my worries but it's very difficult. I find I can't turn off my mind when I get into bed. My feet hurt fiercely from the neuropathy. My skin may be more sensitive, because I itch on my head where it touches the pillow and randomly across my body, tonight around my throat. The open sore mets on my scalp and my chest itch and are painful, but must remain covered. My left arm is in the big blue lymphedema compression garment (I'm left handed) and it's tight. The ONJ spot in my mouth hurts on the right side of my jaw. I've slept on that side my whole life and it's a hard habit to change. The hydrocodone I took before bed doesn't begin to touch all these little things. Together they keep me from sleeping night after night. And when you have metastatic cancer, too many nights of not sleeping soon add up to not dealing well with anything. Especially cancer.
On top of all of this, I clearly had too much water to drink this evening, because I've been running to the toilet every hour since ten o'clock. I took some Uristat to help with that problem, but no dice. I just need to pee a lot.
I guess it's my turn to host the pity party.