I can do anything. That's why I try to do everything, no matter what. Pushing myself physically backfired this last week. When I got home from my trip I didn't try to walk around the house - I came out of the taxi and just wheeled myself into bed with a side order of Vicodin because my leg wasn't working and the pain was nasty. All week I struggled trying to keep out of the chair. I did it, by cutting and cutting things I wanted to do, errands to run, stuff to do around the house, going-out-at-night plans. Order stuff off the net, rather than go to a store. Then on Friday ended up walking 2 blocks down Haight street (allowing myself 1 of the 3 errands I had meant to do) and was stuck. I didn't feel like I could make it back to my car. I sat in the shoe place and felt extremely upset at the situation, at my body, and with myself for having poor judgment.
I am back in the place I was some months ago of doing something brief like laundry or getting myself food, then lying down to rest for a good while before attempting anything else. I have to scale back and be careful.
So, I can't sit up and walk around and be active right now for a whole day. Yesterday and today I was super conservative, and I'm still getting worse. I'm not stressed, or upset, other than my basic fear of what is happening and my frustration at being in pain. The constant pins and needles in my legs, feet, and hands is maddening and my right leg's pain and collapsing hit me worse today. My calf - the horrible nerve going down the outside! I sat on the floor this evening for a second to open my sewing box, and went OMG what was I thinking... I'm fucked.. that was the worst idea ever. But I was able to do it last week!!!! Over the course of the day I lost the ability to bend over and pick stuff up off the floor. When I whimpered with pain by accident while trying to get up from a chair that was the last straw, I said to hell with it and brought the wheelchair in the house again.
Suddenly the geography of my house is different. I need help keeping all the floors clear.
I don't know or care if "It" is a mechanical/orthopedic issue which I aggravated by too much activity and sitting up 12 hours in a row and the long plane rides, or if it's MS or what the fuck ever aggravated by too much activity and stress and no rest. Whatever it is, it's flaring up big time.
Everything non essential will be put off.
Since I am now making dr. appointments again I will take time off to do that instead of just doing it and making the work up at night. That is part of my regime of less stress and more rest.
I wish to god i had some prednisone right now - I would take it in a flash. I know it's bad shit but I would get it for a week for bronchitis or sinuses and then would end up feeling fan-fucking-tastic top of the world healthy and able for the next 3 months.
My plan is good - I just need to stick to it - I had such nice plans to go to the beach or the science museum with Moomin this weekend - and I scrapped them completely knowing it would be insane when I can barely contemplate going out to buy cat litter.
Nice things today - Moomin getting completely better after a sudden morning of barfing - helping Moomin with his homework - having pictures drawn for me - lying in bed reading umpteen Antonia Forest "Trennels" books since they're very comforting and complicated (Oh the perfidy of Lois Sanger! She's worse, and better drawn, than Widmerpool, don't you think? ) and making spiders out of black yarn (body and legs), red glitter paint (eyes), and safety pins (to attach them on things). Rook's LOTR alternate history game and finding dwarven words for it - Colin Powell's declaration of support for Obama, which was lovely - Shaving Zond-7's head - and having bits read to me last night out of the history book about Santa Anna's leg and its burial - and how it was dug up and burned (which I am not seeing anywhere on the net - instead a lot about its burial with full military honors, and how his prosthetic leg, captured & stolen, is still in a museum in Illinois).
That's where I'm at - I don't need a lot of sympathy, it's only been 20 years or so this has been happening - just want to talk about it, complain a little, figure out what I'm going to do about it, and declare it, hoping other people will hold me to my resolutions of intelligent behavior.
I'm sorry I fucked up. It's hard to know where the line is. Sometimes I don't do anything wrong, and things still go wrong and I end up getting worse. This time I feel like it is kind of my fault. Fingers crossed a few days or a week of resting and I'll rocket right back up onto my feet.
I think the social worker's call came at a time when I really am ready to hear it and am panicking anyway so willing to jump back into the Wheel of Diagnosis.