5/29/14. The post where I don't go shoe shopping.

5/29/14: so much for my resolution to get more sleep last night.  I went to bed at a decent hour, but woke up at 1:30am to discover that my patient, long-suffering husband was still awake working on a project downstairs.  After going down to check on him, chatting for a few minutes, and then returning to bed, I realized that my stomach was churning.  I worried for a minute that I had food poisoning or a virus.  After thinking about it a little more, though, I recognized it.  It was the nausea from my Cymbalta.  I remembered that when my doctor suggested taking it at night instead of in the morning, it was because he said I'd sleep through the nausea.  I had convinced myself that it was gone for good.  But as I told a friend today, even if it never goes away, I can live with it as long as it continues to make my foot feel better.

Eventually I was able to get back to sleep, but I barely managed a C on my sleep score and woke up at a 6 again this morning.  I prepared for a rough day.  But it didn't materialize.  I had a little redness after my PT exercises, but it disappeared quickly and by mid-morning it was back down to a 4.5.  Great news, but I give up on trying to predict what is going to cause good and bad days.  (If only that were true, for your sake.  I have no doubt I will be making predictions again tomorrow.)  I remembered that I needed to leave work early for a haircut, so I nixed the lunchtime shoe shopping until tomorrow.  I was wearing sandals and I could see that my big toe turned purple a few times today, but I never got above a 5 in the afternoon or evening.

I came home from my haircut and my patient, long-suffering husband declared it to be "sassy". (He's a good judge of sassiness, so I believe him.)  We have some good friends staying with us for a few days while their new house is completed, so we went to dinner and had a nice visit.  Once again, I am resolved to get more sleep tonight.  Maybe I should resolve to stay asleep instead.  Or at least to make sure my patient, long-suffering husband goes to bed early.  But I'll take sleepy and nauseous over a pain level 9 any day.