Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

Friday night I went to bed early, around 8:30, unable to explain why I needed to beyond "I feel gross."

I was feeling kinda lightheaded and nauseous in a way that I sometimes do when I get too warm. V needs the living room to be on the warm side of what I can cope with (they'll be in many layers with mittens and a blanket when I am just in a t-shirt, we are all doing our best here) so I hoped that being in my bedroom which is cooler would help. It didn't appear to, but I quickly fell asleep (I didn't even see the message half an hour later where D told me that he had to get V to look at his butt).

And I slept a lot.

But, early alarm on a Saturday now, 7:30. I got up and got ready for lift club, but I was struggling with things like keeping my balance even when I was trying to stand still. Which is really weird for me; that kind of vestibular stuff can happen with nystagmus but doesn't tend to with mine. But other things about it flare when I'm tired and I'm certainly tired.

It was minor, I didn't fall over or crash in to things, but it was still very disconcerting. I have pretty good proprioception normally, I'm comfortable with my relationship to things once I can feel where they are. Losing that -- or, I hadn't really lost it but even a weakening of that -- was more debilitating to me than it might be to a sighted person.

I don't think I would have made it to the gym if I'd had to take public transport -- not least because the time I had budgeted for things like eating breakfast was insufficient when I was moving more slowly -- but D was able to drive me. I still debated the wisdom of going but I hadn't been in more than a month and I'll miss next week too so I really wanted to make this if I could. I was very confident in a familiar setting with a trainer who doesn't want anyone to do anything that hurts them even a little that I could rest or stop at any time if I needed to.

But I felt fine.

I did get myself home on public transport and I was a little more careful there (getting the lift instead of the stairs even when I misremembered where the lift was and had to go hunting for it, not rushing for the tram/bus and being happier to wait for the next than I usually am, relying on my white cane a little more than usual as a signal to others that I might be an awkward pedestrian or do unexpected things) but it was fine. Again I wasn't falling or colliding with things, but I did stumble and struggle now and then, and felt sort of dissociated, which is something I associate with bad mental health but here it was just the physical bit, like my body and the world kept surprising me by being configured how they were.

I got home fine. But that's about all I did for the whole day. I took a big nap in the afternoon.

I helped make dinner but it felt like a herculean effort. I was so tired, and a little wobbly again.

Oh also I forgot to say the other thing that was bugging me yesterday was my skin. Our first morning in Fuerteventura I noticed what I thought was a bug bite on a part of my side/back that isn't easy for me to see or feel. I had a few others so didn't think much of it. But the others have since gone away and I still have a sore patch there, and the skin around it felt kinda numb in a way that was very unpleasant to me. I also have a zit or an ingrown hair or something in my armpit, not far from this, and possibly a smaller/less severe version of the same thing on my chest, all on the right side (though possibly another small patch on the back of my left shoulder, again I can't see it), all contributing to my clothes and my bed feeling sore and uncomfortable which is not helping. And there's nothing like A Lump In An Armpit to freak me out -- I don't have my mom's genes so don't have her family's propensity to breast cancer, but I've grown up knowing this kind of thing can be Serious -- even if it's very clearly a skin-level thing that feels like a zit.

I slept okay again last night and woke up fed up with this and trying to figure it out.

Easiest part was getting V to look at my skin. They poked it a bit, it didn't hurt at all, and they said it's worth trying hydrocortisone for a few days to see if that helps so I've started doing that.

It feels a little better already, which could be the cream, could be the relief of having the reassurance of an informed person looking at it, could be that I am not at the gym today so not moving my skin around that much/not getting it sweaty (I get bad dermatitis from sweat sometimes), could be that I picked a tank top and am not wearing anything underneath it (the patch is below where a bra or binder would reach but it seemed good to avoid the possibility when...possible) or could be that it's just getting better.

As for the wobbliness, it occurred to me today that I'd noticed recently that my sock was leaving a bit of an impression where the elastic pressed in to the skin on my left leg, which means my ankle is swelling more than I've gotten used to lately. It doesn't hurt at all, but I do wonder if it has just gotten a bit weak in the last month or so...

With one thing and another I have barely been able to make it to the gym and while I've been doing that regularly for my mental health it just occurred to me that it probably has helped my ankle recovery too. So the lack of gym occurring at the same time as the lack of Gary making me get up 7142 times a day to get him things, take him for tiny walks, etc. is also meaning my ankle is getting a lot less activity than it's used to.

The weather being shit and my mental health being shit and my exhaustion being at such a high level have all contributed to me being such a couch potato lately, and while I don't feel bad about that at all it does have some consequences.

So my ankle isn't sore so I haven't thought about it, but if it is weak it might not be responding like my brain (which is apparently still assuming everything is fine) is expecting, leading to some of the stumbles and general off-kilter feelings.

And I'm sure my nystagmus (which is exacerbated by stress, tiredness, etc...) is also playing its part, as are the stress and tiredness directly, like with the dissociation and physical ability to walk and the ability to concentrate on the stuff I need to do (like make dinner).

Oh also I just remembered that, for Reasons, I didn't take my duloxetine for most of a week and maybe that's contributing to the gross feeling? Because it's definitely not all mechanical in my legs or ankle, part of it definitely seems to be in my brain. Who knows.

When I came downstairs this morning (slowly and again grateful that we have railings on both sides of the staircase), D cheerfully said "there's tea in the pot!" which I could only mutter a response to as I lunged for my seat on the sofa, as much as falling towards it as sitting on it. V said, "would you like me to go get it for you?" and I accepted gratefully, saying "I'm still a little wobbly" and they were like "I could tell. I didn't even have my glasses on and I could tell."

Always a good sign, heh.

So like I said I've tried to treat my skin and it is feeling better. I've been thinking about my ankle as I'm walking and that seems to be going better. Bloody hard work though, just going to get myself a cup of tea is an adventure, since it finishes with me carrying a full cup of hot liquid. But I've done it twice now! I had breakfast!

Sadly it would not be a good idea for me to go to the trans-only social event this afternoon and that means V can't go because they're not feeling good enough to do this by themself... But one of the reasons I was very certain that going would be a bad idea is that I know I wouldn't be reliable as any kind of support for them as I usually could be.

But hopefully the three of us can do something tonight, go out for a burger or see what's on at the cinema or something. I'd much rather do that than something D can't go to anyway.