Hibernation

I had a wonderful weekend doing absolutely nothing of import.  I had anticipated being festive and baking cookies. In reality, I ended up binge-watching cookie baking shows on television while relaxing in front of our fireplace.

After the phantom pain nightmare from last week, a few days of relaxing was a welcome change of pace. I have to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed being completely unproductive. To my surprise, the boys seemed just as content to stay home and play quietly by themselves for most of the weekend. I guess we all needed a break from the holiday hustle and bustle.  

Where we were relaxed and hibernating all weekend, the new neighbors were overflowing with activity. Saturday morning a U-Haul truck drove into Mr. Bill's driveway, followed by nine cars. (The house will probably always be referred to as "Mr. Bill's," regardless of who lives there.)  The crew spent the weekend moving and unpacking.  

Robby and I were toying with the idea of going over to introduce ourselves, but we decided to wait until the friends left and the situation was less hectic.  Maybe today we will bake some cookies to welcome the new neighbor. Even though we are still sad that Mr. Bill has left, I want to make sure that we don't take it out on the new owner.

Frustrations

I'm thankful that the phantom pain has finally waned, but I feel like the episode continues to impact my life. I'm chasing my tail trying to catch up on everything that I delayed while I was contending with the phantom stingers. I am fearful of pushing myself too hard to catch up out of the fear that the pain will return. So now I'm pain-free but frustrated and frazzled.  

I want to just relax and enjoy the season, but I find myself running around like a crazy woman. If I'm not chasing a kid I'm tripping over a toy or a cat. Worst of all, I am losing patience with my kids. They do not deserve to reap the unfortunate consequences of my pain!

Hopefully, I can use the weekend to recover and to reset. I hate feeling this way- like I'm never doing enough and like I'm always failing. I know that I need to switch my mindset but I'm not sure how to modify my inner dialog.  I guess I just figured out my New Year resolution!

Relief!

Relief!

The phantom pain that has been plaguing me at night since Sunday has finally lifted. Last night I slept through the night. My leg was still and wasn't instinctively kicking as a response to the stinging sensations. My goodness, I feel so much better!

I am still confounded about the cause of this phantom pain episode. It frustrates me that I can be sidelined without cause. I have a hard time accepting the "sometimes it happens" explanation, probably because it reminds me that my lifestyle is vulnerable to my limb.

After struggling for the past few days, I have a new respect for my amputee friends who suffer from phantom pain on a regular basis. I am lucky that I only contend with the demon nerves a few times a year. I have friends who have contended with phantom pain for decades. I cannot imagine how they can continue to function. A few days nearly knocked me out and drove me off the abyss.  

Day Two of Pain

I was hoping that I would find relief from the persistent phantom stinging and biting, but my nerves never rested. Last night was as difficult as Monday night, leaving me running on fumes after little to no sleep since Sunday. Needless to say, I'm absolutely miserable!

I am still trying to figure out the cause of this sudden onset but I'm left without answers. The only conclusion that makes sense is that sometimes nerves just become angry. Having to accept both the pain and the vulnerability that it can occur at any time is humbling. 

Today I am going to be taking it easy, not so much because I want to relax but because my body is forcing me to slow down. I'm hoping that a day spent curled up on the couch without my prosthesis will help the angry but mighty little nerves to settle down. 

Have I mentioned how much I hate phantom pain?

Phantom Yellow Jackets

I'm not sure of the impetus, but last night my phantom pain was through the roof. It began after dinner and the intensity only increased through the night. The phantom yellow jackets stopped stinging the bottom of my missing foot around 3 am, allowing me a few hours of sleep before Hamlet woke me up for the day. 

Struggling with pain in an appendage that is no longer attached is both physically and emotionally exhausting. I am trying to apply logic and reason to try to determine why my nerve endings were so angry last night, but I think it is fruitless. In the 15 plus years since I became an amputee, I have accepted that sometimes nerve endings just have a mind of their own. Last night they were asserting dominance, a painful reminder of my vulnerabilities.

Today is one of those days when I hate being an amputee. I resent the phantom pain that arrives uninvited, ruining both my mood and my night. I am trying to remind myself that, in comparison to my friends, I am lucky that my dealings with phantom pain are relatively few. It's hard to count my blessings when I'm so exhausted, but I'm going to keep trying! 

Emotion Overload

The weekend was a tsunami of emotions. On Sunday we said goodbye to Mr. Bill, our beloved neighbor and special friend for over a decade. Robby has taken his departure especially hard. The pair has such a strong and unique bond. My sweet Koopa is struggling with the new dynamic in their relationship and, much like his mother, he doesn't like change.  

After saying goodbye to our dear neighbor, we piled into the car and headed to the Christmas tree farm. We had purposely delayed getting our tree until after saying goodbye to Mr. Bill. We were hoping that the excursion would be a welcome distraction from our grief.  Thankfully we were correct, and Robby's mood elevated as we trekked into the field to find our tree.

Robby took a little while to get into the tree cutting spirit, but Timmy had enough joy to carry everybody. He was giddy during the hour-long drive to the farm, giggling and squealing with joy every time he saw a Christmas tree on a car. I'm certain he didn't remember what to expect, but that didn't curtail his enthusiasm. 

We ended up selecting one of the prettiest and grandest Christmas trees that has ever graced our home. Our 10.5-foot tree is gorgeous and full. Decked out with thousands of colorful lights, we definitely have a tree bright enough to be seen from Santa's sleigh!

Goodbye Mr. Bill

This is the weekend I have been dreading for months. On Sunday Mr. Bill's moving truck drives away, and he ceases being my neighbor. I have no words to describe our relationship. We are closer than neighbors and have transcended friendship. In the more than a decade that he has been in our lives, he has become family. 

Every time I think about him leaving I become weepy. Robby is also having a hard time with his Mr. Bill moving to Florida. The two buddies have forged a unique and strong relationship. Robby has never known life without Mr. Bill, and I know that his young heart is shattering watching his surrogate grandfather leave.  

I have been trying to temper my emotions in front of Robby. He is already struggling to accept the move and doesn't need to contend with my tears. Instead of dwelling on our loss, I have been focusing on everything that Mr. Bill is gaining through the move. I'm hoping that talking about the benefits his friend will reap will help to soften the blow of his departure.  

Mr. Bill is moving to be closer to his daughter in Florida. I know he misses her and is looking forward to reintegrating into her daily life.  There is no doubt that he will be more comfortable, especially during the winter months. The cold temperatures wreak havoc on his body, forcing him to stay inside for weeks at a time. If I were not emotionally invested, I could easily see that this move is what is best for him. 

Of course the "not emotionally invested" boat sailed a long time ago. Mr. Bill has fully integrated into our lives, our daily routines, and our hearts. To say that we are going to miss him is an understatement!