Another Setback

I'm getting supremely discouraged.

I had been feeling so much better yesterday and I really thought I was well on my way to recovery.

Apparently, I thought very wrong.

John made a fabulous chicken noodle soup for dinner last night and I actually ate it.

And the soup was no sooner in my tum-tum than the nausea hit again.

I mean, I hadn't even left the dinner table when the waves started rolling!

So, back to the Gravol -- this can't be good for me.

Surely, if I have to rely on Gravol every day for five days running, there is something seriously wrong!

I managed to shower (now there's a feat for someone with limited energy let me tell you - thank God for strategic grab bars!) and get myself off to bed, suitably wired with the TENs machine.

No waking in the middle of night in dire pain this time! No sirree Bob.

Woke at 1:00am, sweat pouring down my body, pain tearing through me.

Battery had died.

Note to self:  Always start with a freshly charged battery before going to bed with the TENs machine.

Once I got that issue resolved, I settled down again for the rest of the night.

Sort of.

Still need those dreaded pee breaks; and I do still have to change position, which requires my being awake. So use of the TENs machine might take a little tweaking but it does show promise because I did sleep much better last night than I have in the past while.  I'm still on the wrong side of the sleep equation though.

But when I woke this morning, I felt not bad.

In fact, I had suggested to John that we might venture out to Walmart to pick up some things we need to replenish supplies that are getting low around here.

One can dream, can't one?

Didn't take long to find out that I was dreaming in technicolour!

The nausea announced it's presence before I even finished reading the morning.newspaper.  Another Gravol.

By the time I had brushed my teeth, I had used up my energy bank.  John brought me an Ensure.

Looks like I'm facing another day of  "workstation on the sofa" and I'm getting truly discouraged.

Suffice to say, John didn't get his 'Saturday breakfast' today.  He actually made the baked oatmeal this morning, which I was unable to get into me.  I also couldn't get a piece of dry toast into me so a Gatorade made up my breakfast.

Within a half hour of that breakfast that wasn't, I was in the bathroom with yet another diarrhea attack.

I have since tried to eat a bowl of custard but it just wasn't happening.  No can do!

So again, here I sit, a pathetic whiff of a thing who is only 'normal' as long as I am reclining on my sofa with my head supported by a pillow because I don't have the strength to hold it up.

When I do get up, the sweating starts.

If I take a phone call, I can manage a few minutes of conversation before the sweating starts.

And when the sweating stops, the chills start.

There appears to be no happy medium.

My body's entire balance is wonky and obviously, whatever I'm doing isn't resolving it.

I now have to agree with John that if this doesn't turn around, and soon, I will have to let him take me to hospital because it simply cannot continue.  But I'm really reluctant to go that route.

If I thought for one minute that the doctors' guesses would be any better than mine, I might be a little more willing to bring in medical intervention. But I don't have that faith because my experience has been that all they do IS GUESS and if they guess wrong, with my history, they could administer something that would cause me more harm than good.  I'm just not very anxious to "try" any more.  I want results.