Thursday, January 21, 2010

Moving Along, Slowly

Well, this business of decreasing my Cesamet dosage really isn't going very well.
My pain level is such that I can't be upright for more than a half hour; my right hip just can't tolerate the impact.
It's like my brain is saying, "No, I'm not going to move that leg in that manner because that is going to hurt too much."  So I end up essentially dragging my right leg.  Which is physically very draining.
Hence I'm exhausticated.
By the time I get to where I'm going, I'm too tired to do whatever it was I was planning to do when I got there!
It is all so frustrating.
And now my brain is apparently in conflict with my stomach.
You see, the impetus for taking me off Cesamet was to see if my appetite would return.
My massage therapist told me today that I'm "fading away" and I told her that I'm within ten pounds of my goal weight, but I digress.
Anyway, with this first reduction in the Cesamet dosage, I'm already seeing an increase in my appetite.
Yes, you read right.
I actually get hungry now.
Problem is, I still can't eat very much.
I am hungry but after eating very little, the abdominal discomfort starts so my brain tells me to stop eating or the pain will just get worse.
So I'm battling two conflicting messages:  I'm still hungry but I just can't eat!
I've tried eating through it, ignoring the pain message in an effort to satiate the hunger message, but the suffering I have to endure afterwards simply isn't worth it.
I have always lived by the credo that one should eat if one is hungry, but only if one is hungry (hence, when I lost my appetite, I stopped eating).
In my youth, I could pack away more food than anyone could believe was possible for someone of my size (I weighed 98 pounds soaking wet, quite pathetic really).  I used to say then, "I don't know what it means to be full; I'm always hungry."
At that time in my life, I didn't eat to live, I lived to eat.
I find it interesting that the reverse has been true for the past several months.
But the past few days has taught me that I still don't like to be hungry.
I never did like to be hungry.
Just ask my little chickadee.  The only specific instruction I've ever always given her with respect to my ultimate care, is that I don't ever want to be medically "starved" to death the way some famous cases have happened.  I said, "Don't ever make a decision like that where I'm concerned.  Don't let me be hungry, even if I don't know it."
I can assure you, I won't last long on a treatment plan that leaves me hungry while I'm still unable to eat.

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