It's Time....

Maybe I need to get myself one of these cool alarm clocks, found here. 

I've observed an interesting pattern of events over the past several days.

The pattern relates to my least-favorite time of day: that moment when I first open my eyes in the morning, er.....rather when I first pry my eyes open......

Typically over the past several years, waking up for me is a long and drawn out process. It goes something like this. Early in the morning, I gradually drift into semi-consciousness and take note of the amount of light in our bedroom. Completely dark? Drift back down into sleep, or alternately; sleepily pad off to the bathroom and then plop myself back into bed, after which I go back to sleep and inevitably find myself in a very weirdo dream.

Happens every night. The weirdo dreams, I mean. I have posted earlier about a potential link to plaquenil, Sjogren's syndrome, medications in general, and altered dream states, and I'm certain that for me, this is true. Whew.

So then at some later point in time, I would repeat the process, and if the room was sufficiently light, I'd allow myself to point one crusty eye at the clock, then decide if it was time to get up.  And, to try to recollect if I had anything scheduled for that morning. Which usually there isn't, unless it's a doctor's appointment or a Friday morning volunteer session. And even if there is........it's hard. Hard to motivate myself to get up and at 'em for the day. I head bleary-eyed to the bathroom and have this longish inner debate about the benefits of showering and shampooing frequently. Some days, this results in my heading downstairs fully dressed sooner than others.

Fast forward to about a week ago. I remember the first morning in particular, when my awakening took me back years and years to a response that I had all but forgotten: panic.

Not as in a panic attack, or anything like that. More like yikes-look-what-time-it-is-I'd-better-get-my-sorry-butt-out-of-bed feeling.  A how-on-earth-did-I-let-mysef-sleep-this-late feeling.

The same feeling that I had every stinkin' morning when I was in college because I inevitably stayed up too late, then kept hitting the snooze button on my alarm clock, and only regained consciousness when somehow I knew that my quota of snoozes was used up. At which point I would jump out of bed, not motivated by a generally energetic feeling, but rather from fear that I had missed my first class or clinical for the day.

So. Last week, I began to relive these '70s mornings in a dramatically different location and body.

I still have to pry my eyes open, but when I do, instead of lazily guessing the time of day, I frantically sit up and grab my alarm clock, after which I either breathe a huge sigh of relief and turn over and go back to sleep, or I spring -- yes, spring -- from bed with a feeling of urgency to get myself dressed and going.

I haven't sprung from my bed in forever.

So I'm guessing that this change in early morning energy patterns has something to do with my rituximab? I hope?

I wish I could say that the same burst of energy, which isn't all that pleasant, by the way -- I hate the feeling that I may be late for something -- is repeated at any other point in the day. It isn't. Dressing and showering still leaves me exhausted. I still end up foggily misidentifying items in my pantry resulting in strange breakfast items. I still experience that strange cold-icy-skin-on-my-face sensation when I exceed my energy limits.

But.

This new, but actually very old, frantic morning feeling and my increased saliva production gives me a small inkling of hope that........that..........maybe.......

I'm almost afraid to say it. So I won't. But y'all know what I am thinking, don't you?