For a little over six months after cerebellar stroke, I was, to all intents, bed bound. Sleeping, on and off, for most of the day. It wasn’t a restful or tranquil sleep pattern, my pillows felt like a stack of magazines, I had nerve pain and hypnagogic jerks (sometimes in my face), I had dyspnoea (laboured breathing) which meant I had to suck in air every time I changed sides, tinnitus roared in my ears, I needed to pee frequently whenever lying on my side (pressure on my bladder) and could only shuffle at a snail’s pace to the toilet, so had to keep a bedside urinal, my entire head felt tight and even though I was supine, I felt giddy if I moved too quickly.
So, to help me rest, I had a little reverie I played over and over in my head. I was in a boat. A Yakatabune to be precise. That’s a Japanese house boat. It was a tiny version that could fit only me. I had everything I needed in the Yakatabune. I had been damned to this house boat, a boat that could not sink and, no matter what the weather, I could lie inside its hut and be shielded from the elements. I was damned to float at sea forever. Maelstroms, tempests, tidal waves, nothing could capsize or sink my little Yakatabune. I was allowed to go to shore for supplies but had a curtailment, only an hour before I had to get back onto the boat. I would joggle across the seas until, finally, falling asleep.
In reflection, this reverie was a way of coping with the aforementioned feelings as I lay in bed. I recognised I was damned to this predicament but I had to find a way to feel safe and comfortable. I had to weather these symptoms but be extant through inner turmoil. I was free-floating through uncharted waters, not knowing where my feelings or sensations would take me next. Going to shore for supplies was having to stay in touch with verisimilitude, notwithstanding being lost in my mind.
Two years on, I don’t have this reverie, but I have other ones that reflect my predicament at this time.
@Rups thanks for sharing & a great way to help with the pain & discomfort. I guess I woukd say I have been a little fortunate as I had no trouble sleeping in the first 6 months or so post stroke. Staying awake was a bigger problem. I don’t sleep so soundly now but could be much worse. The tinnitus though can be a right pain.
Reminiscing not reveries. Few months after coming out of hospital depression kicked in managed to keep off medication just ,but asked for guidance on mindfulness from GP. The person he sent out was as useful as a chocolate tea pot. Luckily a woman in village came to my aid. Think back to a time and place where you were happy ,her voice was hypnotic and calming. After she left gave her suggestion serious thought.Finally settled on a early childhood memories of travelling from industrial town to rural grandparents who had an orchard, free range chickens and couple of pigs. Visualised journey from being picked up from doorstep the route through town, entering countryside, trying to remember landmarks finally getting there, wonderful nostalgia. Feeding chickens/pigs, eating frozen custard……….Return journey stop at village pub for cherryaide and packet of crisps. 100% successfull. Helped me through a difficult patch. Those memories are from 65 years ago.
That’s one of my issues. I keep reliving past memories. I’m not sure it’s a good thing but every night I imagine being 19 ish and what I achieved or could have achieved!
Shwmae @Richard3, sometimes memories can be intrusive. I tend not to dwell on past memories too much as I have ones I would prefer stay shelved and perhaps that’s why I stick to reveries. Whenever one of those flashbacks enter my mind, I say to myself, intrusive thought, cast it away. Post stroke, my symptoms get worse if I delve into emotionally charged thoughts, and I know it is because my brain just can’t handle it. It now has to compartmentalise its processes in order to function sufficiently.
Agree Rups, as my annoying sister would say “ Let it all go” we have enough things to adjust and adapt to without getting bogged down in past or fantasising about future, easy to say but I am trying hard to live in moment
