Just by way of explanation, the reason posting was so sparse yesterday and the Friday Eyrie went up a day early was an absolutely relentless bout of phantom pains intense enough to rip a shrill, girlish scream from me every 30-45 seconds or so all last night, until the horrible things finally let up around 5:30 this AM.
My GOD, but those pains ain’t no joke. Never have been run through with a K-Bar knife before, but I swear that’s EXACTLY what it felt like was happening to the foot I no longer have. Weird, weird stuff; the sensation feels just as real as it gets, but…you know intellectually that it isn’t, that it couldn’t possibly be. It’s all in your head, but your head is powerless to stop or control it just the same. Ain’t no there there, in a manner of speaking—nothing more than a self-perpetuating feedback loop composed entirely of mental vapor, and nothing whatsoever else.
And yet. Screaming, I remind you, which has never been something I was known for doing a whole lot of, except maybe in boisterous glee. Very, very strange.
So yeah, knowing the chances of getting much of anything done in the condition I was suddenly in, and the Eyrie post having been mostly finished anyway the previous evening, I went ahead and got what I could up there, while I still could. Dragged myself out of bed about noon today, and so far so good. Got a fair-ish bit of stupid deck-clearing crap to get done today, so we’ll see how things go this evening, posting-wise. If I don’t show up, don’t y’all assume it’s because I’m having just too much fun to bother, mmkay?
- Entries
I take gabapentin. I don’t know it would help in your situation, but you can ask your neurologist.
Major downside: I’m told it can severely increase the slope of depression.
I wouldn’t know. My answer to the age-old question of the half full/half empy glass has always been, “What glass?”
Q: Is it half full or half empty?
A: It’s pee, isn’t it?
Mike, Mike, Mike, I keep telling you: Looking at Greta Thunberg nudes not only eats your soul, it causes your body to fall apart.
Oh, I know, Steve, I know. But really now, how can any red-blooded American male help himself? 😉
Damn, sorry to hear that, Mike. I’ve been told that it’s as real and intense as if the part was still there. No advice, just sympathy. Hope it goes away.