Many thanks, Jesse, for your comment on the last post. I am sincerely hoping that the shoes will help, because...Well, welcome to yet another post in which I whine about pain.
The situation with my hips is getting bad. The pain in my hips is waking me up regularly. I get only as much sleep as my painkillers will allow. So let's imagine that I take a pill around 10:00 PM, give it an hour to start working, and then "summon" Becky to bed for our regular cuddling session. Depending on how things are in our little universe, the aforementioned cuddles will last from a half an hour to an full hour, (and on rare occasion a little longer). With the conclusion of cuddling, there is sleep...which lasts between one and half to two hours, at which point the pain will awaken me. Then it's pill time again, followed by another hour of waiting for it to work. IF I get to sleep as soon as it kicks in, I just might squeeze out another four hours before the next bout of pain kicks in.
I've been foolishly trying to ignore it. Just this afternoon, after taking a drug-induced nap, (chock full of painkillers, of course), I woke to pain, got out of bed, and sat in a position marginally more comfortable than lying in bed. (Odd how lying in bed causes me more pain. For the first time in my life, "bed rest" is bad for me. Go figure.) I then sat in a chair for about an hour, trying to ignore the pain, rather than reach for painkillers again. This doesn't coincide well with what I said when I saw my PCP on Wednesday.
Oops. I forgot to mention this one. On Wednesday, while talking with my doctor, I expressed a desire to be "free of pain." Not have my pain reduced. Not to be merely comfortable. I wanted to be PAIN FREE! Indeed, I think we'd all like to be millionaires, as well. My expectations of being pain free are unreasonable. There are too many malfunctions in my body to even hope for such a thing. Still, he decided to refer me to another pain specialist, whom I hope is nothing like "Dr. Doom-n-Gloom."
While both hips hurt, the right is worse than the left, and I've decided that this is, in fact, a direct cause of walking around in this cast. While wandering around my apartment, even for only a couple of minutes, my right foot is raised, while my left lies flat on the floor. This translates to a poor alignment in my hips, which is ABSOLUTELY exacerbating whatever is going on in my hips. And I say this because of the pain that occasionally comes during locomotion, in which just one small maladjusted step can cause me to gasp from the sudden ache that fires out of my hip joint.
It's those noises of pain that sometimes bother me more than the pain itself. You see, for the longest time, I believed I didn't snore. Well, Becky corrected me on that one. I snore. She snores. We snore. (We're a match made in noisy, sleepy Heaven.) About a week ago, I woke to the sound of my own snoring, which, as far as I know, doesn't really happen. Then it struck me that it wasn't my snoring that woke me up; it was the fact that my vocal cords were engaged while snoring...I was attempting to moan in my sleep with every slumbering snort I made. It was my voice that woke me. I just happened to be snoring at the time.
It's not the first time I awoke to hear myself moaning in pain. I occasionally discover myself lying in bed, whimpering and gripping my hip, as if my hand on my hip will somehow dissipate the agony from deep within. These noises...they make me want to tell myself to "man up" and "stop being such a wuss."
I'm truly hoping these shoes that I'm getting tomorrow will be the answer. In fact, I'm trying to plan some kind of exercise for the future, starting with having Becky show me where her classes are on the college campus. The college is just a few blocks away, making it a distance I SHOULD be able to walk. Now I can catch my beloved when she has a break between classes, and go grab a bite to eat with her, without my being utterly and completely trapped at home. I hope to start rebuilding some of the muscles in my hips, thereby placing some distance once again between the bones.
As far as I can tell there's only one little problem with my plan: I'm 44. Once upon a time, I would workout regularly, and I was even something akin to being fit. But that was in my teens and twenties. The time for building muscles may well have passed, as my body isn't so much in condition to start doing something like that. No, my body has started the race to not break down, to stay status quo. And my meds certainly don't lend themselves to burning calories as I start naturally slowing down.
Oh, Becky! Why, oh why, did you choose to fall for such a broken old man?
"Oh, shut up. You got the girl, so stop complaining!" Indeed. I'm off to try and get more rest, as tomorrow I have plans to break out of this mobile prison that's been attached to my leg for four months.
Be well, and DFTBA!