Braaaiiiinnnzzz

So, during one of my drugged up nights I started thinking of that old anti-drug commercial. You know, the one that went a little like this:

the egg representing your whole, awesome, non-drugged brain and the smooshed egg representing your not so awesome drugged brain. 

Now I survive off of prescribed medications at their lowest dose when I have issues but even not drugged my brain isn't a happy, smiling egg. So here's my interpretation of my brain and it's various phases:

So my brain normally is okay. It's like a puzzle with a few pieces missing. I can't remember some things, usually words, things I've said or haven't said. 

Brain on codine (I take Tylenol with codine, not straight codine) is a little like a platypus. It started out going one way, changed it's mind and started doing something else, then went another direction again.

Brain before codine is sad... note previously I said that I have to get to about 8 or 9 on the pain scale before I'll even allow anyone to give me any medication. I don't like feeling like a platypus, so I avoid it as much as I can... so I end up really bad before I finally give up and allow the platypus-ness to take over. 

Last of course is brain while trying to sleep. This is probably one of the reasons I'm an insomniac. Because my brain while trying to sleep is like a potato battery. Eventually it looses energy and knocks out but until then it keeps going and going...

While planning out this blog post I realized that my vaguely cat-related blog had no mention of cats I tried to think of a way that all of this brainy talk related at all to Koko and Prince. To my pleasure, I realized my cats react the same to me no matter the state of my brain. My cats watch over me, care for me and are gentle no matter what. 

Since there's so little cat in this post, here's my brain on cats:

Night watch

For a year or so my cats have taken it upon them to make sure I'm okay through out the night. Prince in particular will sleep at my feet or knees until he realizes that I'm awake and (most likely) in pain. Then he'll wander up beside me and comfort me. He will hold my hand and keep me company until I fall asleep again. 

This habit of his is charming but it scared me half to death last night. I'd probably kicked him four times already so I was sure he was still in his usual position but when I opened my eyes those baby blues were staring back at me. I've had a couple of bad nights. I don't like taking medicine until I'm about 8 of 10 on the pain scale and I've been surviving off of Tylenol for the past couple of nights. It's nice to have a friend willing and able stay beside me until the meds finally lull me into dreams. 

I <3 my night watch.

The Cats

Hello, all. This blog is a bit about EDS, a bit about my cats, a lot about the little things in life I'm learning every day.
My cats are pretty aptly named. The first cat I adopted is a black and white tuxedo cat named Kokoro (everyone pretty much calls him Koko). Kokoro is Japanese for heart.

He "helped" me get sick. The main issue I have is genetic, Koko just managed to help it come out more by giving me a secondary illness. We're both healthy now, but if I hadn't adopted my beloved darling, we may not have realized my illness and discovered the small problems in my heart. I have a very small Mitrovalve Prolapse and a couple of tiny wholes in between two of my chambers. Nothing that can hurt me yet, but it's nice to know and b able to watch it. 

The second baby I adopted is a birman/ragdoll named Prince. Prince and Koko are such opposites, I love how everything worked out. Prince is a darling who loves to play Marco Polo, be brushed (thank heavens, he has a lot of fur). On nights I have a lot of pain his will crawl up next to me and hold my hand in his paw. He will only jump up on something if you invite him. He's a very polite, however shy, cat. 

My cats teach me a lot. They take care of me, as much as they can without thumbs.