Tag Archives for chronic illness

I Wish I Could Vomit

Lately I’ve been feeling that if I could vomit I would be able to purge my body of my illness and pain.

The funny thing is that vomiting freaks me out. It always has. The thought of having the contents of my stomach pushed out of me with immeasurable force until there is nothing left but air makes me queasy. It has always embarrassed me to lose control of my body in that way. So my body contorting as I heave and retch uncontrollably has never been undesirable.

Now I crave those sensations. I want to expel the toxic combination of chemicals I’m feeding my body to fight the pain. I want to spew the pain so it can be flushed away from me. And I want to banish the bitter bile that is building in every cell of my body as my illness and pain mock the conventions of medicine and refuse to be purged.

Mostly, I long for the fresh sensation I have felt after washing the film of expelled matter from my mouth. I want my body to feel the relief of release. I want to feel cleansed.

But my body will not cooperate. The pain and illness continue to dig in – literally. And the nausea in my stomach remains, but I cannot vomit.

 

Stevie Wonder – Lately

Low Energy Day

Today was a low energy day.

I didn’t sleep well last night – partly because I fell asleep in my living room sitting upright in a chair then couldn’t find the energy to get up to walk to my bedroom to get into bed. When I finally woke myself up this morning I went straight to bed. I slept on and off until about 3:00 PM when it was time to take my afternoon meds and I felt annoyed with myself for being in bed all day.

Days like this really frustrate me. I know I sleep because my body needs it, but it still upsets me when I lose an entire day. Staying awake is a struggle some days but the more I struggle against sleep the more I hurt. To add to my frustration, while trying to get comfortable in bed today I discovered another range of motion I have to avoid repeating.

Because I’ve been asleep most of the day I haven’t eaten, but the thought of going to the kitchen to make something to eat is exhausting.

 

The Beatles – I’m so tired

Pain and Intimacy Don’t Mix

When I became ill I was not in a relationship. Now I can’t see how it will ever be possible to start a relationship.

I’m in pain every minute of every day. That’s not exactly conducive to fulfilling my carnal or emotional needs or responding to those of another person. But to get those needs fulfilled I’d first have to have desires. I have none. I don’t think about being with anyone. Not kissing. Not touching. Not having sex.

I spend my days trying to focus on doing the most basic activities – showering, dressing, taking medication, eating, sleeping – so thoughts of intimacy rarely make it to the front of my mind. If they do, they are in the form of longings about what used to be; with a resigned acceptance that I may never experience the comforts and pleasures of a relationship again.

My friends try to reassure me that my illness doesn’t have to rob me of a full life that includes being close to and sharing my life with someone else. I’ve also been told that I need to expand my definition of what sex is to include more than intercourse. But the issue isn’t just the act of sex. I’m in so much pain all the time I can’t imagine someone touching me or getting close to me with physical intimacy being the goal. Besides, I’m taking so much pain medication I don’t know if I could think clearly long enough to get to know someone sufficiently to decide if I would want to be in a relationship with them.

So what do I do? How do I pursue intimacy knowing that I might not be able to make my body follow the will of my mind? And worse still, what happens if the pain never gives me a break so I can think, talk, and act on behalf of my desires when they show up?

U2 – Desire