She has worked the Vicodin and Motrin so that I take it all at once during the time limits. We don't have to think about, okay, Motrin here during this two-hour time period when I was starting to hurt.
Why did I give her such a hard time about it? I think it's because I'm worried about running out. It's less to do with getting addicted. I'm certainly not close to that yet.
And one thing I suspect is working here is that I'm on medication, which makes it hard to think about what I should properly do about medication. I need a second party to help me monitor it.
The result of perfecting this system of how much to take and when means that I pretty much know when to take each dosage, because it never changes (it's just 6 hours in the future), and I feel so much better. I feel so much better at times that I have to remind myself that marathon running is not on the menu. Please understand that most of the time, I feel like there's this hot plate of spaghetti lying on my stomach. And that great fatigue can come swarming down upon me without warning.
My sleep time is better as well. I alternate between the living room blue chair and the bed. I am so worried the dogs are going to pummel my stomach, that I place a pillow on my stomach before I lie down. But there are other reasons the bed doesn't work as well: the transition between sitting and standing is rougher, it's harder to get comfortable, etc.
The blue chair gives me a little bit of the feel of a hospital bed. I hate the fact that I can't sleep on my side, but there's nothing to be done about that, and the chair ensures that I don't even bother to try. And at 2am, it's just the chair, me, my meds coming at 5, and Princess. Nice and quiet with a warm, woolen blanket over me. Figuring out what the routine should be is what's helping. I'm beginning to relax a bit.
Tomorrow: I get a babysitter.
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