It's strange how I managed to sleep in the hospital with all of the shenanigans going on around me, and yet sleep I did. Of course, it probably didn't hurt that I was getting Zofran and Phenergan which tend to put me out. I'm only mentioning all of this because I've been back at the apartment and can't sleep. That's right, I'm wound up from all of the Dexamethasone I had to have to help protect my heart from the Methotrexate.
I managed to sleep for a solid three hours last night before I popped awake and couldn't do it anymore. The next thing I knew, my mind was racing with the most inane thoughts that had absolutely nothing to do with anything. Literally. Nothing interesting, just odds and ends skittering around my poor beleaguered brain.
No sleep, plus steroids, plus crashing hemoglobin makes for a miserable me. Okay, not miserable, but mildly peeved. Chris's theory is that the steroids that have accrued in my system are artificially masking my low blood counts. I have to agree with him on this one.
I've been trying to burn off some excess energy, but the most I was able to motivate myself to do was make dinner. Since my sense of taste is skewed it was a little dismal. Chris being the amazingly gracious husband that he is ate with aplomb and a smile. How did I get so lucky?