In the past few weeks Charlie has been pretty much constantly in the background. It began with a dull ache in the region of my left hip. It started as the sort of level of discomfort that was noticeable only when I thought about it, when my concentration wandered from whatever I was doing.
Slowly it has increased to the point where I'm always conscious of it unless something deflects and holds my attention. It's best described as the sensation you have during an injection; after the needle has gone in, you are left with the knowledge that the needle is there, a single point that seems to focus your attention upon it. It feels as though someone has left a needle in the back of my left hip just above the femur socket. It's not muscular pain, it's not like the discomfort that comes with a strain or heavy bruise.
There's also a similar sensation around my coccyx although not as consistent or as persistent.
I can gain relief by popping a double strength Ibuprofen. Not something I do with any enthusiasm and I try to avoid doing so until just before bed. I'm loathe to become too reliant on pain killers too soon and I'll avoid recourse to them for as long as I can. For that reason, I'm not going to mention it to my GP yet. Pain is such a personal thing and what I consider painful might not really rank very high on the scale; I'm quite possibly making a mountain out of a molehill. As someone who has escaped living with pain all my life I don't really have a meaningful comparison (I'm eternally grateful for that fact).
Probably the most debilitating aspects so far are the tiredness and the intrusion into my thoughts.
I get so weary at times that I give-in to it and go to bed mid-morning or mid-afternoon. Whether I do or not has no effect upon how well I sleep at night. Sleep also has the benefit of keeping the thoughts from intruding. I can push through the weariness when it strikes if I need or want to. Doing so has the beneficial effect of making me so tired by the time I go to bed at night that the dark thoughts don't have a chance to intrude.
Let me try and explain: Normally, before sleep overtakes me, I think through the day, or recent events, sometimes I look forward to things to come. In the past months, no matter what I'm thinking about as I drift off, Charlie and all the possible ramifications, charges to the front of my mind like a small child demanding attention. Like an insistent spoilt child, Charlie is hard to ignore.
I'd like to place on record how humbling I find the kindness of people. I can remain fairly dispassionate and unmoved by Charlie's affect upon me but the concern and kindness of others moves me more than I can say. I really don't deserve the compassion.
