Have I mentioned in the last week or so how much IV’s annoy me? Methinks once or twice…
Yesterday was a really good day – I didn’t sleep very well, but I re-organised my drug schedule to get me out of bed at 8am instead of 6am, which meant I could get up and start my day immediately, rather than going back to bed after an hour when my drugs were done and sleeping till noon.
It also worked well because it let me take my catch-up sleep (that’s just me trying to avoid the wword “nap” really) straight after lunch, before my afternoon dose, rather than having to wait till after it and then sleeping too late into the afternoon, which in turn appeared to be disrupting my night-time sleep pattern.
Not only did it seem to work pretty well, the new schedule, but it also seemed to give me a lot more energy and get-up-and-go and as a result I had an enormously productive day, leathering through work on the new CF Talk, Laughter for Life and the Activ8 Show, all of which had been somewhat neglected over the previous week.
Having gone to bed tired and ready to sleep after my late dose last night, I was eagerly anticipating a good night’s sleep (which I got – YAY!) and another energy-filled, super-productive day. I was even starting to plan my to-do list for the day as I drifted off.
But high doses of wapping strength drugs will go and do odd things to your system. After a great night’s rest, I woke up not full of the bouncing, work-attacking energy with which I’d gone through Thursday, but with the apparent wakefulness of your average 3-toed Sloth, which saw me lumped on the sofa most of the morning working out how much of the to-do’s could be un-done for the day.
After lunch, I slept, again anticipating a post-snooze pick-up to revamp my day, but again seemed only to wake more tired than I had been when I went to sleep. Worse than that, though, was the fact that my brain saw fit to simply shut down and not operate for the rest of the day until about 9pm this evening.
I’ve thus spent almost all of the day/afternoon in a semi-comatose state on the sofa wondering where on earth all the energy and pizazz I discovered yesterday had gone.
It would appear that I’m back in the old give-and-take world of IV’s and energy which had me so frustrated in the run up to Christmas. As much as I want to be pushing myself forward and keeping ploughing on, I keep having to give in to my body and accept defeat on a day’s work.
If there were just some kind of indicator as to whether tomorrow was going to be better or worse, I think I could cope with it easier – it’s the apparent lottery of energy levels that’s really riling me at the moment.
I suppose I just have to look at it from the point of view that it makes each day more interesting and exciting because I never know what’s going to get thrown at me: perhaps there’ll be something new to spur me on tomorrow, or maybe I’ll be finding new depths of reserves to drag myself through the day. Who knows? Isn’t it fun?!