I continue to improve, thanks to the miracle of modern medicine. My biggest problem right now is feeling better than I actually am – I almost feel back to my usual self, but I’m still nowhere near it. Twice now I’ve gone out to do things because I feel okay, only to have to cut the day short because I’ve overdone it and feel like soggy death. It’s an adjustment.
My blood does appear to be flowing again, which is both good and bad. The good: my snoring improved remarkably from the first night I was medicated. That isn’t to say that I got better at snoring, rather; the noises that so alarmed Ed had quieted considerably: I was no longer gasping myself awake or making horrible choking noises in my sleep. All the fluid that threatened to drown me every night is now flushed out in other ways, to the point where I have postponed my sleep study indefinitely.
It’s not all pee and solid sleep, though: now that my heart is sucking less, my skin is being a shitheel again. For the last 3 months or so, the only thing I was remotely happy about was that my breakouts seemed to be under control. Sure, I looked like shit and couldn’t breathe or sleep or eat, but my skin was clear, damnit! Now .. not so much. All the stress zits that had been repressed by my body’s inability to do fuck all are coming back to say howdy and it fucking sucks. I may never leave the house again – not because I don’t have the energy, but because I look awful. Why go outside? I have cats and Diet Coke and internet.
And a new mattress, too. Ed decided we needed to upgrade, so this week we got a fancy new memory foam thing. I love it because we were able to get rid of our huge giant mattress and box spring so our bed is now a full foot closer to the ground (much better for falling), and also it is all the comfortable ever. If this is how rich people live, I’m all for it.
I do miss adventures, though.