I am
sure you noticed there was no post yesterday, just as I am sure you were very
concerned for my wellbeing and my posting inability.
The
story is (and believe me I feel like I’m 100 years old, discussing the
deterioration of my body as I age) I have restless leg syndrome. Yep, leave it
to me to get a diagnosis that most comedians regularly make fun of.
Dennis
Leary: Nausea, anal leakage, dysplasia, and temporary blindness are not just great
name choices for late 80's heavy metal bands -- they are but a few of the
little prices Americans are willing to pay each time they swallow a magic pill
designed to help them lose weight, gain confidence, stop shaking or become the
proud owners of medically-induced erections.
Dennis Leary: This is the land where Restless Leg Syndrome is cured by a drug that can cause an uncontrollable urge to gamble.
(That
really is one of the side effects on the description sheet that comes from the
pharmacy.)
Stress
exacerbates it as does fatigue so I get in this cycle where I’m stressed (can’t
imagine why) which makes my legs ache which makes for no sleep which increases the
stress and fatigue. A nice little feedback
loop of doom. So for two days, zero hours of sleep while I pace around the
house all night. (The puppies are initially concerned and follow but after an
hour or so, they say, “Um mom, evidently we are going walking but we aren’t actually
going to leave the house. Given those parameters, and the fact that there is
nothing new to smell, you are on your own.” Then the traitors stretch out and
are asleep in five minutes.)
In
addition, my lower back loves to remind me that I’m old, fat and consuming Diet
Coke like a crazy person. So as I pace, my back protests. (See I’m on the quick
track to 80.)
Anyway,
yesterday afternoon I took my anti-restless leg, old person, meds thinking I
would head things off before they got worse.
I guess after two days, my body said, “Sleep now!” and that was the end
of it.
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