This week ,the good, the bad and the SAD light. 

Tonight was the culmination of a great week. I’m now doing all of my toiletries while standing.  I’m walking as much as my body lets me, every day. My bike is getting riden for 5 minutes a session, 3 sessions a week.  My days are full of exercise. My nights, however are a very different story. Once the sun goes down, so does my energy. I’m familiar with the phenomenon in dementia patients, known as sundowning. I never expected it to apply to my stroked out brain. Tonight was a perfect example of sundowning.  All day long, I had my SAD (seasonal affective disorder ) light ( which works great ) to give me as much energy as possible and did very little with it in anticipation of my husband’s staff party.  Held in a gorgeous ballroom, it’s a fantastic buffet dinner, followed by awards and dancing. 

We got to the hotel at 6pm and immediately I’m seeing the waists and boobs of people I hadn’t seen for the better part of 2 years.  The canned music was very loud ,so conversations had to be loud too. Here’s where I run into an issue.  My left vocal chord is still weak from the stroke, so I can only raise my voice so much before hurting myself.  Add to that, the fact that I still can’t turn my head either way very much, and unless the person is paying attention to me, I’m not heard and neither are you. For example, the person sitting across the big circular table from me,6 was apparently talking to the back of my head before sitting where I could see him.  I waved hello and he accused me of snubbing him. 

Word of advice, when speaking to someone in a wheelchair, especially when in a crowd. Make sure you get to their level so you both can converse comfortably. It’s very easy for me to just tune out and feel like nobody wants to talk TO me when you’re talking over me. And that gets depressing fast, not to mention the toll it takes on the neck, having to look way up at you when my neck is a problem.  Thankfully several female friends understood this and the night wasn’t entirely without conversation. Dinner was good as was the glass of champagne.   I was very much hoping to get a dance with my husband in before calling it a night.  But the pain was having none of it and my husband had to take me home after just an hour and a half . I’ve  medicated myself , and I’m still in wicked pain .

If this event had been held at noon I’d be dancing with my husband right now, instead I’m stoned off my ass, writing a blog post about what I’m missing .

Check in tomorrow for my weekly walk down the hallway and check out my progress.