Sleep, Anyone?

I can’t sleep again. I’ve tried everything.
I’m embarrassed to admit what I’ve tried.
Let’s tally the goods: 10 mg of Ambien, 10mg of MS Contin, and 10 mg of oxycodone.
What’s worse is that two of these medications are standard for my treatment.
And I still can’t sleep. I don’t sleep during the days. I can’t. My mind races. I have too many things to do.
I don’t have anything to do. I need to sleep. I fall asleep about 1 am and wake up about 5. Pissed and wondering what I should do with myself.
I curse out my body and tell it to behave so I can be on the same timeclock as the rest of the world.
My body hates me. That’s my final conclusion. I’ll be breaking out the prescription bottles later to show it who’s boss.
My body, my cancer, my side effects have all been messing with the wrong person. It’s a wrap. It’s on.
Except, How the hell am I ever going to get rid of these pills?
I just woke up and I’ve got the shakes. I hate benzos and narcotics. They make me depressed, but since I need some of them for my pain (which makes me more depressed and down right angry), I’m going to play with my double edged sword.
ER ladies, you know who you are, tell Hagan he’ll be taken care of me.
Warn him I intellectualize my answers and I can make a great case that the sky is falling.
I am compulsive and controlling about my body. I’ve worked so hard to take care of myself. I can’t always leave my opinions in my head.
I’m calling him because even if I think something different than what he is saying, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
Sometimes, I have to consciously think before I call my NP, “I will not manipulate her. I will not talk her into what I want. My opinion is biased.”
I say it over and over again, like a mantra.
I thought this a couple days ago before I called DF, and the poor girl was sick. She kept going back and forth on what she wanted and asked me what I thought.
I told her I wasn’t telling because my opinion is biased and to call Alyea.
Please, everybody, stop taking my medical opinion. I have ulterior motives.
But I do like to give it.
I miss working. I think I have ADD. Hematologists and Oncologists have a great technical neurological term for this. It’s called. . .. . . chemo brain.
Chemo brain makes you forgetful and unable to follow conversations. You generally appear flaky.
I, on the other hand, do not always appear so flaky, but I have a tendency to forget complete days, weeks even.
Imagine waking up to that. Imagine walking up to realize you’ve met your new specialist twice, and you yelled at him and edited his consent forms.
What?!
Now, imagine trying to explain this people. Not so plausible. It sounds like a really good excuse for bad behavior, and it’s happening again.
For all I know, it’s been happening all along.
When it started in July, what I remembered looked like the scene from the last Batman movie when Morgan Freeman got ahold of sonar tracking for gotham. Life was just a lot of hazy pictures going by really fast.
I’ve been sending my friends disclaimers stating: “As a side effect of my chemo, I’m experiencing some memory loss, if I repeat entire conversations, please humor me. I will not remember the story you told me from the day before, but I will laugh at it again.”
Generally, I am at least happy when this happens. Apparently, even unconsciously, I don’t see any reason to be angry and mean to people.
It’s terrible when I turn mean since that is not my personality. Nobody can tell what state I’m in: if I’m having a day I’ll remember or not, so they have no idea how to intervene.
I tell them to censor me and keep me under control, but nobody can. They just think it’s me getting uppity. I tried to make the BX attitude leave, but apparently it creeps back when I’m not at my best.
Of all the things I’ve lost I miss my mind the most. I wish I had my photographic memory back.
Maybe, some sleep would help.