It had been a surprisingly good day; the intensive therapy work I'd been doing, coupled with Friday's appointment, was paying off, and I'd gone from terrible pain levels and enormous amounts of morphine yesterday, to managing the pain mentally and just taking a couple of extra slow-release pills today.
All unsuspecting, I went to bed, listening to a favourite DVD as usual. Then suddenly I started having a real problem; stuff on the DVD - something I've watched a hundred times before - was triggering frighteningly vivid memories of my dad. I had to turn it off, but by then it was too late, and I had no choice but to get into yet another horribly heavy session of trying to analyse and unpick those memories.
And to cap it all, the pain, which for 12 hours had been bearable, just exploded. That told me what was going on was important, but last time it flared that way,it lasted for days and there aren't words for how bad it was. I really didn't want to have to go through that again. But that's the thing with all this - you have no choice. Your only option is to go forward, through whatever horrors your mind throws up this time.
And my stomach is suddenly going crazy too - another sign I'm on the right track, but very hard to cope with.
Eventually the pain did go down, suggesting I'd gotten to the bottom of things, at least for now. But it's left me wide awake and feeling very unsettled and unhappy. I don't know what to do with myself now.
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