Today is another story of living post stroke. Fair warning- just try not to grimace or laugh while reading this post. Bet you can't.
The set up- I was sound asleep, curled up under my quilt against the chilled air in the house as the wood stove exhausted the last burning embers of wood left to burn while I slept. It was the wee hours of the morning. My night medication was wearing down, but still enough was in my system to allow for a few more hours of restful sleep before the painful spasticity kicked in and time to take more. Mel often wonders why I don't go back to sleep when I wake up in the wee hours. Sometimes I do, but other times it's just impossible. Sometimes, it doesn't pay to be a Murphy.
A twinge of pain in the calf region of my left (functioning) leg. Somewhere in the recessed of my mind it registers that a Charlie Horse is beginning. I try moving the leg into another position to no avail. In the dark, I don my sock and reach for my AFO knowing that I'd have to walk it out. The first month of a new shoe purchase, it's easier to leave the AFO in the shoe rather than trying to put the shoe on after donning the AFO. Then, I work on putting the sock and shoe on the left foot. Always a joy to do without making the cramp worse. Some time while fastening the third or fourth strap on my AFO another realization filtered through the drug induced hazed mind...I have to pee! Rushing to do something while drugged is never a good idea, but still I try.
Now I don't know about you, but when I fall backwards, my head always rests on the floor for a few seconds before I get up. This time was no exception. As I sat on the commode, I'm still rubbing my calf fending off the Charlie Horse that threatens to cramp down on my calf. It's a little better now that I had put my weight through the leg, fallen, gotten back up, and walked to the bathroom. I was thanking God that I again averted a full fledged Charlie Horse. I ran my hand through my hair. It met with a horrible feeling courtesy of Logan. So much for the possibility of returning to bed as if the what had already happened would allow it.
I stripped out of my clothes and got in the shower. I turned on as much hot water as my body could stand. I washed my hair three times to be sure it was clean. Now, rosy skinned and wrapped in a towel, I again donned my socks, AFO, and shoes. I walked into the bedroom. I pulled off the AFO and shoes, and got dressed. Not in fresh pajamas, but in work clothes. The roosters were already crowing a full hour before sunrise.
I raked through the night's ashes in the wood stove and pulled the ash pan. I carried it outside and dumped it. I had plenty of wood ash for the chicken's dirt bath area and for making lye. Strolling back inside, I replaced the ash pan and set the intricate lacing of paper, twigs, and bark to start the day's fire. I put the three split pieces of firewood on top and flicked my Bic. I was greeted by the warmth of the blaze before I go outside for another load of firewood.
How you start your day is important. Mine has already gotten off to a bad start. Hopefully, it will get better as the day progresses. As tired as I am, I may only get half of my to-do list done today, but...
Nothing is impossible.