Did I Mis-speak Myself?

Yesterday, I reported that I was back.

Recovered, with the exception of needing to get back my strength.

Not an unreasonable conclusion, under the circumstances.

I do feel sooooooooo much better than I have for the past week.

Both emotionally and mentally, that is.

And I understand that physically my body needs time to recover from the barrage of abuse that it has just undergone.

I went to bed last night confident that today would be an even better day.

Wrong!

Woke at 1:00am in unbelievable pain.

So I hooked myself up to the TENs machine and settled down on the sofa to try to read for a while.

Yeh, right!

I huddled under several blankets and battled the increasing nausea.

John woke at 3:00am and came looking for me, wondering why the hell I was back on the sofa (why not, isn't this where I live now?) until I told him that I had had to put the TENs machine on.  It's difficult to wear the unit in bed because the electrodes are attached to my hips and mid-thighs, with the radio-control clipped to my waist band.

We determined that yet another Gravol was called for and I decided to try sleeping in bed with the TENs attached to me -- couldn't hurt to try!

And it worked!  At least I now know that I can go to bed nightly hooked up to that unit and sleep, painfree.

I finally drifted off again until 6:00am.

But when I woke, it didn't take long to realize that today was going to be another difficult day.

How did I know?

Because again today, I didn't want coffee -- two days running!

And anyone who knows me, knows that if I don't want coffee when I wake up, I am one sick puppy!

So John made me some tea, a piece of dry toast, and brought me a bowl of jello.

The jello and toast went down, but the tea sure wasn't happening.

All I got from drinking the tea was more nausea.

So another Gravol was taken, and I stayed in bed while I read the newspaper.

Having wrestled this latest bout of nausea into submission, I crawled out of bed.

And ten minutes later, I had no energy left.

So here I sit again, at my makeshift workstation on the sofa.

When will it end?