Of All The Things I've Lost, I Miss My Mind The Most

We've established that I’m feeling stronger than before transplant and that we are pleased.  We, however, are starting to see some other effects that are discouraging: notably, the weight gain. (And perhaps the use of the royal We.  Like it’s not MY weight gain, it’s OUR weight gain.  And since it’s your damn fault, please stop.)

In addition to blaming my chunkiness on you, I can also easily blame it on the drugs I’m taking but truth of the matter is I’m lazy.  And man, do I ever have an awesome excuse (uh, new lungs.  Duh.) but it’s getting more difficult to use that, being five months out and not consistently exercising.  And eating.  Oh, the eating.  Do you know what happens when you bake a batch of cookies “for the family” but said family is gone all day and you’re at home?  You eat.  The batch.  Of cookies. 

And my brain!  The noggin ain’t what it used to be.  In fact, I’m writing this now though I came to the computer for an entirely different reason BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT WAS.  I feel like Dori when Marlin leaves her in Sydney and she feels her memory slipping away (and the only reason I remember that is I just watched Finding Nemo last week).  I’m even talking out loud to myself and swimming in figurative circles much of the time as I just can’t quite remember some basic things.  For someone who prides herself on balancing several pieces of information at once and having fairly good recall, this is disconcerting.  How am I going to find a job when my entire skill-set is based upon “I’m really good at putting A + B together to make C”? *  I was a rhetoric major in college, for crissakes; I've spent a career trying to mitigate that to a non-mention on my resume and now here I am, thinking that might be the most marketable skill I still possess. **

And a subset of losing my mind are these &*%@# migraine headaches.  Oh, and I emphatically mean that, bolded and underlined and everything: &*%@#!!!  They are horrible and I am a blob of grunts, groans and dozing, spending entire days in bed when they hit.  They hurt. I saw a neurologist who said to throw everything but the kitchen sink at it and see what sticks:

·         An anti-inflammatory diet (I’ve ordered the book, I’ll tell you how it goes)

·         Daily exercise (we’ve already talked about this and my slackitude.)

·         Avoid hunger and dehydration.  (Oh, so I’m *supposed* to eat?)

·         “Sleep hygiene” – take melatoin before bed.  Every morning, get outside between 7-9am for a 15 minute walk to get exposure to blue light.

·         Limit pain meds (like Tylenol) as they cause medication-induced headaches.  (Ironic, no?)

·         B-Complex, CoQ10 and other prophylactic therapies.  (Because my 15 transplant meds aren't enough.)

Of course, none of these help once I’m in the throes of a headache, the likes of which last about 18-24 hours and are occurring every 2-3 days.  And the days I don't have a headache really just mean that another one is around the corner, waiting to attack.  Paranoia with your own brain is really no way to live. 

Hey, maybe that’s why I’m here at the computer!  To email the doctor to get some more acute pain relief suggestions!  Thanks, guys, for humoring me!  I’ll just go get a glass of water and then write that email.  No, I won’t forget…it’s just going to the other room for a water, I’ll remember to come right back to the computer.  Unless I get distracted by the laundry that just finished.  But that’ll only take a second.  What?  You think those dishes in the sink will get to me?  Well, maybe I’ll do those, too, but THEN I’ll write the email.  Yeah, I know the kids come home soon and I should get a snack ready, especially since they are coming home with friends from school.  And there’s a few things on the floor that should be picked up. 

But I’ll be back. 

Pinkie swear.

* as long as A, B and C don’t represent numbers.  If they do, I shall outsource immediately.

** Please don’t take this as a sign I’m looking for work.  I’m not.  SO STOP PRESSURING ME.