Today I’ve had a marvellous day.
I’d already decided last night that today was the day I’d make huge progress. No more lying around on a mattress in the front room on a make shift bed. A move on to the sofa last night was a half way point, and there I slept soundly.
A lazy morning ensued. My favourite Saturday cooking programmes with fresh juice, although admittedly after waking at 6am for my tablets and a wee, I fell back to sleep until 10am.
I’ve cut my meds down a lot. I was taking a hell of a lot of morphine. Liquid and tablet form. I decided to just stop, as now I no longer need it. I take Tramadol and diazepam for anxiety. It calms me down. They say it’s addictive but I don’t really have problems with addictions I just know that when I no longer need medication I can stop. The diazepam makes me sleep and helps me forget about my worries. Perhaps I should be crying every day regarding my diagnosis, it is after all just 2 weeks since I found out, but I don’t cry, I don’t feel panic. I feel rested every morning. Tramadol is just a nice kind of pain blocker; some pain is there but one is not overly bothered by it. It also gives you a warm spaced out feeling and also helps me sleep. (Can you tell I love sleep yet)?
I have been in pain now since the beginning of February. Since early March it got so bad I’ve not been out of the house, temporarily paralysed in a way. It’s been weeks since I’ve had fresh air or walked anywhere so today,sitting up pulling myself up and walking with help was a huge victory for me. I’m getting better. I’ve had to learn to trust my body again. My legs are weak and wobbly. It will take at least 6 months to be normal again.
So a few thoughts came to me whilst I was eating my lunch. Where do all the quiet people go? The ones that know about your new diagnosis, the terminal diagnosis (yeah I broke my own rule on that word but it needs to be emphasised here). The people I’m friendly with today who I had a normal conversation with just a month before. They’ve not spoken to me. The people I used to be friends with for years but for whatever reason we fell out and no longer speak. People I’d known for years, had great memories with, still have fond memories of. I don’t hate anyone I’m just no longer friends because we mostly grew apart.
The silence is hard to accept. You kind of expect people to come out of the woodwork and say something. You start to question everything. Is it you? Is it them? Are they frightened to say something? Do they not care? Is it out of sight out of mind? If they don’t see you or talk to you it’s easier for them when you die?
But then what do people in your past actually owe you? Nothing really. If you were that important to each other then there wouldn’t be that silence I suppose.
On one hand I wish people would reach out, but then perhaps it’s best things are left buried in the past and all you can do is love the ones that love you and let them support you rather than not knowing where you stand with someone or people coming back in your life only to leave again..