I never wanted, or planned, to make of this journal a chronicle of My Struggles with PVD. Many folks use their journals to enlighten others about their travails, and I consider that commendable, but I have wanted to do something different, to attempt to be entertaining. Whether I have succeeded is up to you to judge (nothing like stating the obvious.) Be that as it may, I have tried to keep mention of my condition to a minimum, at least in part because there are many excellent sites to be found if you do a search for PAD or PVD, and I encourage those of you who seek knowledge to go visit and learn.
I would not mention it now, except that lately it seems to be claiming more of my attention than I like. I once had a toothache that sent me to the ER in the wee hours of the morning, and when the admitting nurse began asking me for preadmission data, I discovered that the pain was so great that I was literally unable to remember my address or phone number. I had to prevail upon Bonnie to finish the interview. Thankfully, a dental internist (student) from the University of Rochester (contiguous to the hospital) was roused and quickly gave me a most marvelous injection that completely obviated the pain for a good while.
PAD pain can be like that sometimes. I am occasionally wakened from a sound sleep by excruciating pain in my calf (generally the left, but sometimes the right) that feels like the worst cramp I have ever had, tripled, and (if I am covered) have to struggle to untangle myself from the blanket, reach the edge of the bed, and stand upright while fire runs through my leg and up my back. My presumption is that at some point circulation has ceased in that muscle, and the act of standing seems to start the blood flowing again.
Additionally, I have peripheral neuropathy in both feet, so that they feel as if they were encased in cement. I have very little sensation, except for pressure and the occasional pain (of course.) This, and the pain in my legs, explains why I seldom leave the house.
Lately, the pain has been such that my thoughts are often unfocused, and this, perhaps, is the most frustrating part. It is hard to concentrate on reading material or television, and it is distressing to be not only a virtual shut-in, but to be unable fully to enjoy my few forms of entertainment.
There are people who suffer much more than I, and for this reason I feel ashamed to express my weakness. Nevertheless, I need to do this, if only to comfort myself. Now please excuse me while I repair to my favorite bottle of bourbon and blow out the lights for awhile.