This week sucks.
My health has been in the crapper for three weeks straight not (concussion - cold - migraine) and I can't shake the fact that this was supposed to be My Week. That I was supposed to be meeting my hero this Thursday and beginning team training. That by this time in two weeks I'd be on my own with my new partner. That my apartment is supposed to be filled with dog beds and toys and expensive dog food, not crumpled up used tissues.
I've been trying to find the positives, but in a situation that really isn't positive that's really hard. Once in a while I think, Isn't that nice that I didn't have to worry about getting a dog ready today. Or, Wow, I was late to class this morning, can you imagine if I had to wake up extra early to get a dog ready too? But this isn't a positive situation; this is life and there is nothing I or anybody else could do to change this, but still... It sucks.
My spoons are all gone from feeling like crap and it's times like this that leave me wishing I had the energy and inclination to do something instead of just thinking, I am sooo grateful I have no work today.
Last night sucked. I was pretty convinced for a while that I was going to end up in the Emergency Room because of the pinched nerve in my neck. I haven't even done anything recently to aggravate it, but I was experiencing the tell-tale deep ache in my arm that normally precipitates the full-blown pinched nerve. And I swore the last time it happened that I am not going through that pain again. If it happens, I am going straight to the ER because I can't stand the thought of experiencing that kind of pain any more. And the worry of ending up in the ER last night or early this morning, sent me into a tail spin.
I was indulging in the It's Not Fairs, something I normally despise people for saying. I think it is one of the most selfish things that can come out of somebody's mouth, but nevertheless, I was fully immersed in the "It's not fair" way of thinking last night.
I was in pain. My skull felt two sizes too small and I still want to gouge my eyes out anytime I step outside without sunglasses on. I was fully ready to chop my left arm off rather than go through the pain of a pinched nerve again. And then to add insult to injury (literally) both of my calves are screaming and have been charlie horsing with no provocation for days.
I'm tired. Physically and emotionally. And this is one of those weeks that I wish I could Just Take a Break! Just a 24-hour break; one day really. I'd even settle for just the waking hours of the day, I don't need a whole 24-hours. One day where I'm not in pain. Where I'm not tired. Where I'm not fighting my brain every minute of every hour. One day where I'm not the girl who is overweight because of medications. Where I can go out with my friends and not pay for it the next day with the worst migraine I've had all year. A day where I can be completely, blessedly, normal.
But I don't get that. When you have a chronic illness or a life-long disability, you don't get a break. And that's the hardest part. If I could have a break, even if it was just one day a year, it would be sooooo much easier. One day where I don't have to worry about my spoons, where I don't have to plan every decision around the Tourette's. I never get a break from my life. Once in a blue moon, I get these brief moments of peace. Where for just a moment, my brain stops. Where my body isn't moving or threatening to move or thinking about moving. Where I'm not self-restraining. Where everything is just still.
And it's unbelievably, remarkably, beautiful.
To feel that complete calm, to realize I don't have a tic urge. That I'm not blocking or restraining, I really just don't want to tic. When these brief glimpses into normal happen, I'm lucky if I get more than 30 seconds. I'm lucky that this happens at all; but I can't tell you the last time I had one of these "breaks". I can tell you I cried my eyes out when it happened because it isn't until I get a break, that I remember what it would be like to not have Tourette's. To have my brain only focus on what I wanted it to. To not have to fight for every minute of my life. To not be in pain.
I forget that everyone doesn't live like this. With this constant turmoil in their heads. I forget that what I go through everyday, most people will never have to experience. And having those glimpses into what life could be like, is worse than never remembering at all.
I'm tired of fighting. Tired of being tired all the time. Tired of being in pain. I'm out of spoons and truthfully, at this very moment in time, I don't think I'll have the spoons to make it through this week without another migraine or breakdown.
...Anyway, enough self pity for now. Because I do have good news.
Like, really good news.
Really, really good news.
I heard from the director of Heeling Allies about Quincy. He is doing really well learning his tasks. She said that he is doing really well with paws up and over. If you remember, over was the command that Owen was having so much trouble with; these dogs are picked in part because they are submissive (they have to be as a service dog) and placing them in such a dominant position can be tough. Quincy though, is doing really well with these commands. These are two things that are super important for me; the deep pressure is going to be critical in helping me to gain control over my body in situations where I can't manage it on my own. Darcie even said that once they get him in an over, he stays put regardless of how they are moving underneath him. Which is great!
|Quincy and his little sister Gretta (and JJ in the corner)|
He is getting used to the mobility harness I will be using with him; because it's a new piece of equipment that they weren't training him to use before, it's (naturally) taking some time for him to get used to it. She said that because when he walks, he walks with a side-to-side movement it is causing the harness to move from side to side and he isn't so sure about that feeling. He doesn't dislike the harness, but he's not so sure about what it is telling him to do either.
Quincy does not however, want to pick up his leash. :) I think this is really sweet; he is a retriever but apparently respects his leash so much that he won't pick it up for them. I've already bought an over-the-shoulder leash that I can use completely hands-free, so for me, picking up the leash is an added bonus that I should hopefully never need to ask him to do. Hypothetically, if I drop the leash because of my tics, no, I won't be able to pick it up. But... I think that by using the hands-free leash I should negate that happening. Quincy won't go anywhere when you drop the leash, but he won't pick it up either.
And that's something I would feel comfortable working with him on anyway after team training.
Darcie said that Quincy is very sweet and loving, and that he nibbles to show affection, just like Owen. I don't have any updates on how Owen is doing, but last I heard he was feeling much better on the medication. When I hear something about him, I'll update everyone.
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One broken down body; overweight and in pain. Brain malfunctions 99.9% of the time. Will throw in anxiety and migraines, free of charge.
Free to first to inquire, OBO.