I've been using an inflatable camp bed until we can pick up our new real bed. Last night, something happened to the camp bed, and now it's unusable.
Even having it, though, meant that each night, my pain was creeping up on me.
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Chronic pain is a problem, especially with long-term conditions like fibromyalgia, and especially when you have complicating factors like congenital joint disorders and mild scoliosis (yes, there are reasons I complain of back spasms a lot).
I don't reach delta level sleep easily given the best conditions and medications, I have to take medications to try to diminish nightmares from the PTSD, and if I don't have a good sleep surface I simply can't move in the morning. It hurts too much. So the first thing that happens each morning is that Sarah feeds me my Synthroid pill, and figures out what else I need. I can't always talk.
Sarah has to massage my hands, arms, feet and legs, I use a heat pad on my back while she does that, and then she turns me over and gently massages my back. Then I drink tea that she makes for me (it's been steeping as she's attended to the massage.) Are you wondering why this is necessary? I have circulation issues, and while I have some trouble feeling my hands and feet even after a good night's sleep, with all proper precautions, after a bad night's sleep it's often all I can do to flop them a bit. And my back is spasming.
With a good sleep surface, most of this is quickly handled. Some friction rubbing on the hands and forearms, helping me sit and placing the heat pad, and raising my feet on some pillows are all it takes. I drink my tea, and then I'm ready for my shower which works out a lot of the rest of the issues.
On a bad sleep surface, I may not be able to sit for an hour, and I will need help getting to the shower. Sometimes I'll need help washing my hair, because my arms, shoulders, and back can't handle it, even though I keep my hair very short. We don't have a shower seat here--we need to pick one up. It's embarrassing to be 33, to look able-bodied, and to sometimes be able to walk to the store without too many problems, but to have days when you can't shower without help.
Sometimes Sarah doesn't get it. She tries, but it's hard to look from the outside. She knows, intellectually, that I'm not faking, but she gets frustrated. Hell, so do I. Thankfully, my symptoms are visible. You can watch my edema. Often, my back spasms are so bad you can see them. Heh, you should see the doctor's and nurse's reactions to that... they can't believe you're upright, walking, and talking (and they shoot you up with morphine & relaxants really, really fast).
But basically, it's 0300, and I'm up writing a diary because even though I'm exhausted, I'm afraid to try to sleep because I know what waits for me in the morning if I do.
Of course, not sleeping has it's own hazards. And it's just turned Sunday, and we don't, and can't, get the bed until Wednesday.
I'm rather doomed. And no, I don't have enough blankets to make a 'bed'. Just a sleeping bag. Thanks for trying, though. :)