(Today’s blog post is part of a continuing series of personal stories about living with Trigeminal Neuralgia, the most painful diagnosis known to man.)
It’s 10:15 pm and I’ve been stood up. I’ve waited for over an hour now. I wish I could say that I’m talking about a date, but I’m not. I’m talking about my meds. It’s been over an hour since I took my nighttime combo and so far, nothing. I blame myself. I got wrapped up in reading and took them almost an hour later than usual. And if there’s one thing people with TN know is that we must take our meds with an accuracy of time similar to that used for the Olympic fifty-yard dash. One second off and baby, you’re a loser.
So now I wait. Wait and hope that my delay won’t result in a night spent moving from one room to the next, milling around in the dark, sleepless because of the pain. I wish it was a date that I am waiting for in vain. At least then I would have a different focus for my anger. But it’s me I’m mad at. Me and this stupid condition. Me and my reliance on medications no matter how necessary.
And the clock keeps ticking away…