It was impossible to settle down to sleep last night. My head felt as if it was aching, about to explode. The systolic lowering meds took time to act. The real problem was the excited chatter of medics and patients responding to the England v Norway World Cup match. Not just that noise but the careless banging shut of pedal bins and automatic doors banging open late at night No wonder my blood pressure doesn't drop and my nose still drips blood, but it's less painful now. Dealing with echoes of trauma from the experience being violated by emergency treatment last time this happened made things painfully worse last year has to be faced, like it or not.
I push back and complain if I'm disturbed from a snatch of relaxed sleep. I insist on retaining control of habitual self medication to impose structure on the day, otherwise it becomes an incoherent blur. I had a good chat with the medicators, necessary for them to understand that I haven't lost my grip on the process.
I still can't pray more than a few remembered words and phrases at a time. Concentration is often foggy, drug impaired. Eyes water making reading difficult on times. Such a relief when the lights were finally dimmed after supper and some degree of peace and quiet descended.
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