Apparently, not so much.
Instead, the meds control my life. I’m almost always tired, lethargic, if you will. While I prefer tired to in pain, it doesn’t make much of life easy. I can just as easily do what I’m supposed to do as spend 2 hours napping with my cat. Actually, napping with the cat is far easier. I think I might spend 12 hours a day awake. It really cuts into my getting shit done time.
And then, there’s the weight gain. It’s not enough that the CRPS has left me, until recently, unable to do anything approaching exercise. No, I have to be on two medications that act as appetite stimulants, one that’s an appetite suppresant, and FIVE that cause nausea. The result? I’m always hungry, but never know what I want; I have nearly constant heartburn; and I’ve gained back the 30+ pounds that I lost while in Weight Watchers 5 years ago. Until this past week, I thought I was still a size 6. No luck. Even some of my size 8 clothes don’t fit. I purged my wardrobe of all things size 8 in 2001. Then, I re-purged in 2003, when it became clear that skirts and soft pants were the way to go. I don’t even remember when I got rid of all of my shorts, but apparently, I did. Good thing I accidentally bought some on Ebay! (Weird story, having to do with spending way too much time coveting other people’s stuff.)
All right, enough complaining. No one reads this stuff yet, anyway. I’ll get better all around and maybe make it worthwhile.