Sleep Talking

Pancreatitis was the beginning of the avalanche. Up until then, we had both believed that Jeff’s health would improve. A little weight loss, a bit of exercise, a healthier eating plan should have, could have, might have worked. But, we never got around to it.

And, I do mean ‘we.’ I nagged occasionally, but I enjoyed the wonderful meals Jeff created. I enjoyed going out to dinner, and breakfast and lunch on the weekends. We’d get on track, get off track, restart. All the while, my weight was going up, too.

After Pancreatitis, everything changed. Because, at that point, the trouble Jeff was in became permanent. I nagged a lot more, about everything. Medications, money, meals, sales and purchases for the store. But I didn’t take my own advice, either.  

Pancreatitis takes the body on a downward journey. Everything you do can help, and everything you do could just not matter, either. Jeff never gave up hope. He simply accepted his new reality and went on with his life. I didn’t fare so well in that department. I’d had hope, then was left with nothing to cling to.

The pain and balancing pain medications were a losing battle, as well. Some caused auditory hallucinations – not creepy voices, but the continual sound of a low playing radio just outside your reach. They occasionally caused situational hallucinations.

Following one particular subsequent pain-related hospital stay, the doctors added two more medications to his regime. Methadone and morphine were prescribed for continual long-term use. As I’ve mentioned earlier, Jeff could fall asleep anywhere. So, the added drugs only increased that possibility.

Even pre-opiates, though, Jeff and I had some interesting conversations, some serious confusion and one horribly harrowing incident which led me to always double check if I was speaking with an awake or sleeping-talking Jeff.

Quote for the Week:

2018 03 13 just because you can see through the snow jakorte 

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