Sunday, February 25, 2007
The taste is almost gone!
36 hours after taking that sleeping pill, the vile taste in my mouth is almost gone. No, I didn't sleep last night. Much. Didn't help that hubby was home and sick and therefore not sleeping too well himself. He didn't used to steal blankets!
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Update
Blogger was being blogger and wouldn't let me post earlier, so I just got the last post up (that I wrote several hours ago).
I am never taking that sleeping pill again. Please and thank you. 17 hours after taking the nasty pill, THAT TASTE is still strong. I cannot drink a glass of water without spewing it in the sink. I have never tasted chemical waste but I have a good imagination. I believe I've met it.
Furthermore, I am still not in complete control of my limbs. I drove to town this morning (for needed groceries and more cold/ flu drugs--Jim has it now) and that was stupid. It was like taking a remote controlled robot for a test drive.
There are choices in life. I can choose to try to sleep naturally. Or I can take this dratted pill, sleep, have a vile taste (apparently all day) and a woozy body and brain. Easy choice. Where can toxic waste be safely buried? My body will not be the place.
I am never taking that sleeping pill again. Please and thank you. 17 hours after taking the nasty pill, THAT TASTE is still strong. I cannot drink a glass of water without spewing it in the sink. I have never tasted chemical waste but I have a good imagination. I believe I've met it.
Furthermore, I am still not in complete control of my limbs. I drove to town this morning (for needed groceries and more cold/ flu drugs--Jim has it now) and that was stupid. It was like taking a remote controlled robot for a test drive.
There are choices in life. I can choose to try to sleep naturally. Or I can take this dratted pill, sleep, have a vile taste (apparently all day) and a woozy body and brain. Easy choice. Where can toxic waste be safely buried? My body will not be the place.
A History of Sleep
That title alone should be enough to make eyes glaze over and unconsciousness occur. So I'll narrow it down. The History of Valerie's sleep. Perhaps now the subject is so narrow that you couldn't care less. Fine. Off you go then. I'm sure there are other exciting things going on in Blog Land.
As a child I took sleep for granted. As a teen, I indulged, much like any other teenager. As a young mom in my twenties, I hadn't really outgrown my need for sleep, nor had my husband, and we taught our kids that it wasn't really daytime until at least seven or eight o'clock. (Or whenever Daddy had to get up to go to work--though I wasn't against crawling back in bed myself at that stage.)
The kids grew older, went to school, and complained of having trouble falling asleep. We played with/ adjusted their bedtimes, tried to keep evening routines low-key (except for Rowdy Daddy evenings). All four of us did a good job of sleeping in on Saturdays.
Hubby, for the record, has always had a wonky sleep schedule. He isn't tired, stays up late, sleeps in. At least, that's his preference left to his own devices such as illness or unemployment. As the kids headed towards teenage, they drifted toward Dad's schedule. It was a shock when I realized I was the first one going to bed most evenings!
My kids used to (affectionately, I hope) call 10:00 pm *Mommy Pumpkin Time.*
I settled into my own sleep schedule with lights' out most nights by 11 and up at 7:30. Without the alarm going off on Saturday, I might not wake till 8:30, but then I'd be wide awake. Hubby and I had learned how to adapt our personal life around non-matching sleep schedules.
For years I remember well those nights when I couldn't sleep. We might be on the cusp of a move, perhaps. Or a job change, or some other adrenaline pumping issue in life. So I'd lay awake all night along and bully life into a plan. Being as this happened maybe once every year or two, it wasn’t too big a problem. People figured I was *due* a night like this occasionally.
Fast-forward to the late 90s and introduce some Real Stress in the form of a house renovation, too little money, hubby working long hours away from home, and a teenage son starting to act like other peoples' teenage sons. I still mostly slept, but my hormones went on a rampage, and since I expect my current issues to be hormone induced as well, it seems worth mentioning. I cried over everything, even while I was bubbling over with tears I could logically explain why I KNEW this was not a big deal, but I couldn't shut the tears off. PMS hit in a big way for the first time in my life, only this was not PREmenstural syndrome but PERImenstrual syndrome.
I hadn't heard of such a thing.
For a few months I took Dong Quai. It helped things level off and I continued on my merry way. Kids began to leave home, come back, leave home, completing the move out by 2004.
I had my own issues with weight, fitness, arthritis, learning to turn all that around, and occasionally the little PMS monster would rear its head and I would step on it. Over the past couple years I haven't been sleeping as well. I'd get up at night to go to the bathroom, but fall asleep again quickly. Or I'd lay awake for an hour or so before dozing off. I began to realize that the Wonderful Years of Sleep were fading.
About a month ago I began Not Sleeping. Go to bed, doze off, be half aware of things going on (like what the cat was up to, or the fridge motor), wake up in two hours, doze back off, repeat. Not very restful. Every day I became more tired and more convinced that surely I would sleep well the next night. But I didn't. A week later I was spending hours actually awake and not many hours in that doze land. About then some sort of reason kicked in and I called for a doctor's appointment.
Before I actually got to the appointment, I'd come down with a cold. I don't get sick very often, and I totally blame lack of sleep for this one. I was too rundown to fight it. So my doctor gave me a prescription for a sedative with 50mg Alti-Trazodone and 50mg Trazodone Hydrochloride. I was to take one a night for five nights and then stop, see how it went. I forgot to ask about taking night-time cold meds with it, so that night (Friday Feb 16) I didn't. I hoped this sedative would knock me out and all would be well.
Breathing is useful, and I was too plugged up. The drug had no discernable affect on my head. But I can tell you that after lying awake for several hours, my body decided it needed to pee, and my bathroom is down the stairs. My advice to the world is NOT to take a sedative and traverse stairs a couple hours later. It is downright dangerous. I wound up laying on the couch the remainder of the night (it's comfy) as I was sure I must have been disturbing hubby's sleep. I did doze off for a few hours.
Next night I added a nighttime cold med, having decided that breathing was more important than sleeping. That helped. I slept sort-of-soundly for two hours, woke up, slept(ish) for two hours, woke up. So in the end, the drug helped but not enough. I had four nights like that.
Sixth night. Not supposed to take the drug. Lay WIDE awake until after 4 am. Get up at 7:30 to get ready for work. I was SO exhausted by this point, you can hardly imagine. Look at me wrong and I was in tears. It finally sank into my brain that I should make another doctor's appointment. Miracles exist. I got one for the very next morning (Friday).
Seventh night. I actually slept pretty decently. Certainly the best I'd slept all month, and without a drug. Sigh. Being my mother's daughter, I was briefly tempted to cancel my appointment but my online friends threatened to bash me with imaginary fish and I realized the error of my thinking and went back to the doc.
So now I'm on a new type of drug. The other was a sedative. This is the next class up, whatever that is. (I am SO not medical). This one is 7.5mg Apo-Zopiclone and 7.5mg Zopiclone. Took one last night, then realized it shouldn't have been on an empty stomach. So I ate a bowl of cereal. Didn't taste good. Wondered if the milk was sour, but it didn't smell like it. Went to brush my teeth. GAH!!! That was a horrible taste. Ah, yes, the dear drug leaves one's mouth tasting like metallic effluent. I don't understand how people can get addicted to THAT I tell you.
The big question. Did I sleep? Yes. Like something a tank drove over. I feel almost human this morning (except for That Taste in my mouth). I'm to take this drug for five nights, then stop IF IT IS WORKING. If it isn't, I'm allowed up to five more nights. I truly hope I sleep. I can't imagine living with this horrid taste.
He also sent me for some blood work. I'm sure you'd like to know what he's testing for. I don't remember. Something thyroid and B12s maybe? Maybe more?
Who would have thought I could write a saga about sleep? Are you snoring yet?
As a child I took sleep for granted. As a teen, I indulged, much like any other teenager. As a young mom in my twenties, I hadn't really outgrown my need for sleep, nor had my husband, and we taught our kids that it wasn't really daytime until at least seven or eight o'clock. (Or whenever Daddy had to get up to go to work--though I wasn't against crawling back in bed myself at that stage.)
The kids grew older, went to school, and complained of having trouble falling asleep. We played with/ adjusted their bedtimes, tried to keep evening routines low-key (except for Rowdy Daddy evenings). All four of us did a good job of sleeping in on Saturdays.
Hubby, for the record, has always had a wonky sleep schedule. He isn't tired, stays up late, sleeps in. At least, that's his preference left to his own devices such as illness or unemployment. As the kids headed towards teenage, they drifted toward Dad's schedule. It was a shock when I realized I was the first one going to bed most evenings!
My kids used to (affectionately, I hope) call 10:00 pm *Mommy Pumpkin Time.*
I settled into my own sleep schedule with lights' out most nights by 11 and up at 7:30. Without the alarm going off on Saturday, I might not wake till 8:30, but then I'd be wide awake. Hubby and I had learned how to adapt our personal life around non-matching sleep schedules.
For years I remember well those nights when I couldn't sleep. We might be on the cusp of a move, perhaps. Or a job change, or some other adrenaline pumping issue in life. So I'd lay awake all night along and bully life into a plan. Being as this happened maybe once every year or two, it wasn’t too big a problem. People figured I was *due* a night like this occasionally.
Fast-forward to the late 90s and introduce some Real Stress in the form of a house renovation, too little money, hubby working long hours away from home, and a teenage son starting to act like other peoples' teenage sons. I still mostly slept, but my hormones went on a rampage, and since I expect my current issues to be hormone induced as well, it seems worth mentioning. I cried over everything, even while I was bubbling over with tears I could logically explain why I KNEW this was not a big deal, but I couldn't shut the tears off. PMS hit in a big way for the first time in my life, only this was not PREmenstural syndrome but PERImenstrual syndrome.
I hadn't heard of such a thing.
For a few months I took Dong Quai. It helped things level off and I continued on my merry way. Kids began to leave home, come back, leave home, completing the move out by 2004.
I had my own issues with weight, fitness, arthritis, learning to turn all that around, and occasionally the little PMS monster would rear its head and I would step on it. Over the past couple years I haven't been sleeping as well. I'd get up at night to go to the bathroom, but fall asleep again quickly. Or I'd lay awake for an hour or so before dozing off. I began to realize that the Wonderful Years of Sleep were fading.
About a month ago I began Not Sleeping. Go to bed, doze off, be half aware of things going on (like what the cat was up to, or the fridge motor), wake up in two hours, doze back off, repeat. Not very restful. Every day I became more tired and more convinced that surely I would sleep well the next night. But I didn't. A week later I was spending hours actually awake and not many hours in that doze land. About then some sort of reason kicked in and I called for a doctor's appointment.
Before I actually got to the appointment, I'd come down with a cold. I don't get sick very often, and I totally blame lack of sleep for this one. I was too rundown to fight it. So my doctor gave me a prescription for a sedative with 50mg Alti-Trazodone and 50mg Trazodone Hydrochloride. I was to take one a night for five nights and then stop, see how it went. I forgot to ask about taking night-time cold meds with it, so that night (Friday Feb 16) I didn't. I hoped this sedative would knock me out and all would be well.
Breathing is useful, and I was too plugged up. The drug had no discernable affect on my head. But I can tell you that after lying awake for several hours, my body decided it needed to pee, and my bathroom is down the stairs. My advice to the world is NOT to take a sedative and traverse stairs a couple hours later. It is downright dangerous. I wound up laying on the couch the remainder of the night (it's comfy) as I was sure I must have been disturbing hubby's sleep. I did doze off for a few hours.
Next night I added a nighttime cold med, having decided that breathing was more important than sleeping. That helped. I slept sort-of-soundly for two hours, woke up, slept(ish) for two hours, woke up. So in the end, the drug helped but not enough. I had four nights like that.
Sixth night. Not supposed to take the drug. Lay WIDE awake until after 4 am. Get up at 7:30 to get ready for work. I was SO exhausted by this point, you can hardly imagine. Look at me wrong and I was in tears. It finally sank into my brain that I should make another doctor's appointment. Miracles exist. I got one for the very next morning (Friday).
Seventh night. I actually slept pretty decently. Certainly the best I'd slept all month, and without a drug. Sigh. Being my mother's daughter, I was briefly tempted to cancel my appointment but my online friends threatened to bash me with imaginary fish and I realized the error of my thinking and went back to the doc.
So now I'm on a new type of drug. The other was a sedative. This is the next class up, whatever that is. (I am SO not medical). This one is 7.5mg Apo-Zopiclone and 7.5mg Zopiclone. Took one last night, then realized it shouldn't have been on an empty stomach. So I ate a bowl of cereal. Didn't taste good. Wondered if the milk was sour, but it didn't smell like it. Went to brush my teeth. GAH!!! That was a horrible taste. Ah, yes, the dear drug leaves one's mouth tasting like metallic effluent. I don't understand how people can get addicted to THAT I tell you.
The big question. Did I sleep? Yes. Like something a tank drove over. I feel almost human this morning (except for That Taste in my mouth). I'm to take this drug for five nights, then stop IF IT IS WORKING. If it isn't, I'm allowed up to five more nights. I truly hope I sleep. I can't imagine living with this horrid taste.
He also sent me for some blood work. I'm sure you'd like to know what he's testing for. I don't remember. Something thyroid and B12s maybe? Maybe more?
Who would have thought I could write a saga about sleep? Are you snoring yet?
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