An intermission from sleep

I’ve apparently had a flare-up of my FMS or CFS or whatever the hell it is in the “syndrome” department which afflicts me.  I’ve only officially been told that I have FMS, but wow, this past week has become so much about craving inordinate amounts of sleep that I’ve essentially spent the past 24 hours in bed.  I just woke up from the second of two, two-hour long naps, and all I said to Flippy was that I was going to try to stay awake until 10:pm so we could finish up with the dogs, and then I was going back to bed for the night.  I usually have such disjointed sleep at night that I need some sort of medication to ensure I stay asleep and get “restorative sleep”, yet I’ve been falling asleep at the drop of a hat and am counting the minutes until my head hits the pillow again.  I’m so tired I don’t even want to eat.  I’ve been planning for the last couple of months to spin-off a new blog, one where I can just talk about my FMS and autoimmune issues, and this current episode might just be the incentive I need to get it done.  Now I just need some energy to formulate my thoughts, as blog entries don’t seem to be written by just wishful thinking.  My website work doesn’t get completed by wishful thinking, either, which is unfortunate because I’m trying to finish up a online store for the director of Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill movie, and it’s supposed to go “live” on Monday, but my brain cells have been replaced by molasses.  Flippy seems to have the opposite problem I have—she’s wide-awake and reasonably energetic—and I’m not sure if it’s because her pain has been easing off, or if it’s a side-effect of her Medrol.  I’m pleased that she hasn’t yet succumbed to one of Medrol’s side-effects, “severe anger and psychotic breaks”.  If she does get to that stage, perhaps I can just sleep through it.

In my brain-fuzzy stupor, I’ve managed to watch five old episodes of “Emergency Vets”  which have been stored on the TiVo (just seventeen more to go!).  I always seem to learn something when I watch, and this time I learned that cats who’ve been hit by cars often have damage to their nails, because they instinctively extend their nails to try to stop themselves from being dragged.  This little tidbit helps confirm our initial guess that our cat Frank had been hit by a car shortly before he found his way to our front porch.  He had terrible scabs and scarring on his head, and a bit of a limp to one of his hind legs, but the damage to his feet was very obvious.  They were torn up and bleeding, and I’m sure this later accounted for the two infected toenails which had to be removed.  He’s one lucky cat, to say the least—he must have come within an inch or two of being killed.  I’ve been pondering whether or not I should set up a “cat way station” on our front porch again, now that the colder weather is starting to set in.  I’ll have to write to one of the local feral cat groups and ask about it, even though I doubt we have truly “feral” cats in our neighbourhood, but simply have “strays”.  I’d definitely like to start putting out food and water again (now that the roaches aren’t so prevalent), and I thought perhaps a small enclosure, like a miniature dog house, might also be welcomed.  I have to do something discreet, so as to not piss off our neighbourhood association.  I just feel so badly for the cats which are dumped outside and expected to fend for themselves, especially because they never seem to be spayed or neutered.

Posted by Leigh-Ann on 10/29 at 08:53 PM

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  1. Poor Frank.  :(

    It certainly does sounds as though he was hit by a car.  He is one lucky kitty to have survived it and to have found such a great home!

    Posted by Expat  on  10/31  at  02:41 PM
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