Pain and Mood... and Constant Fireworks
As I wrote in a previous blog post, I've been experiencing horrific pain all throughout my body for the past week and it has seriously affected my mood in a negative way. The level of pain was worst through this holiday weekend. At times like this, I increase my normal dosages of medications to try to bring my body back into check. This past week has been no different. On the positive side, I am feeling a bit better today but I have to say that just the simple act of walking across a room is still quite painful. Now, add to this pain and lousy mood a weekend full of constant fireworks...
We had been invited to view Burlington's fireworks a few days ago but I quickly declined. I've always had a bit of a problem with the logistics of this particular event considering my health issues and disabilities so that made me hesitant to accept this offer but I also do have a problem with fireworks in general... and especially, the smell of gunpowder. The constant barrage of fireworks and the smell of gunpowder keeps my mind active through the night for weeks. This active mind causes dream after dream after dream. For me, these are dreams. Others might consider my dreams nightmares though. Whether dreams or nightmares, my effective sleep and rest is infringed upon drastically whenever this happens and that negatively affects my overall health when it comes to my struggles with Systemic Mastocytosis.
I need to add a bit of a warning here... What I am going to write could be considered a bit too graphic and may cause nightmares. So proceed at your own risk...
Because of all the extra medications I have been taking in an attempt to stabilize my health, I have been very tired, drowsy and groggy. Needless to say, I did a lot of sleeping through this holiday weekend. The dreams I had during this sleeping, however, were directly affected by the constant sounds of fireworks all day long and all night long. The sounds and smells of fireworks caused constant dreams and even caused me to awaken startled at times thinking I was anywhere but at home in bed.
In all of these dreams, I was back in my old career in the Air Force as an Air Defense Controller. At times during these dreams, just like during my career, I was in a command center. Other times I was on the ground. Other times I was in the air. The current situation would dictate how and where I conducted 'business'.
Many of these dreams were quite tame. Those outsiders who sometimes observed us (potential new recruits, inspectors, etc) used to joke about our jobs being exceptionally boring punctuated by periods of sheer terror. For us, however, those periods of sheer terror were periods of excitement. Nothing in life compares to this excitement which is probably why many of us in this career field enjoyed extreme sports. (Something I can no longer do because of my spinal injuries and the debilitating effects of Systemic Mastocytosis.)
________________________________________________________________________
As an example of terror/stress vs excitement...
After I became disabled and was forced into retirement, I had an incident at my home which is a pretty good example of stress vs excitement.
I was in my living room, sitting on the couch with my back to the windows and the road. The road was about 25 yards away and up a slight embankment. As I was sitting there, my mind was dwelling on gun sights. At this point, since I was retired, I didn't own a weapon anymore and I've never really been "into" guns anyway so I was a bit confused why my mind was dwelling on gun sights. Still, I got up from the couch, walked to my desk nestled in the corner of my living room and booted up the computer thinking I should do a search on gun sights.
"Gun sights... gun sights... why are gun sights on my mind?"
This should have been a sign for me but I was not making the connection. You see, throughout my career, I was known for being able to 'feel' things coming. I always seemed to know when an accident was going to happen... or some other emergency... and I would end up being the first on the scene. In my job, I always seemed to know when the shit was about to hit the fan.
For instance, before pilots would declare some sort of in-flight emergency, I would 'feel' the need to pull out the emergency checklists. Others would see me reaching for the checklists and everyone would go quiet, just listen, watch me, and wait. I would page through the checklists... I would stop at a particular checklist... in this case, In-Flight Emergency. Before long, the radios would crackle with a pilot calling in from a distance...
"Command Post, Quiver 3..."
"Go ahead, Quiver 3, Command Post here..." my hand already on the Crash telephone (just lifting this handset would send a call to the tower, the Fire Department, Security, and various agencies who needed to know we had a crippled plane trying to land)...
"Declaring an IFE here... hydraulic failure... standby..."
At this point, everyone would explode in activity running through checklists... the same emergency checklists I already somehow had known to open. So, I always had this odd sixth sense when it came to this sort of stuff. This allowed me to be at the right place at the right time more often than not (although many would say "at the wrong place at the wrong time").
Now, back to my living room a few years after being forced into a mandatory disability retired... I had the term 'gun sights' running through my mind and I was not making the connection. After turning on my computer, it started booting up and then I stood in front the couch with my back to the windows and the road. I was standing there just wondering, "what am I supposed to be looking up about gun sights?" "Why gunsights?" "I don't even own a gun!" "This doesn't make sense..."
In an instant, the silence is broken by a loud whooshing gunshot, glass flying everywhere from behind me, and I hear a truck revving its engine as it starts to take off down the road. I dive for the floor... In my mind, I am identifying the sound as a 30-06 caliber or 9mm, shot through a jar causing a whooshing sound... "a whooshing sound?"
I land on all the shards of glass in my t-shirt and gym shorts... I don't know who shot at me or where they are at this point, but I know that lying on the floor like this makes me pretty damn vulnerable so I jump up in my bare feet and run across all the broken glass scattered across my home, out the back door... run around the opposite side of the house toward the road in the direction the truck was headed... when I get to the road, I see no signs of the vehicle.
9-1-1 is called... the dispatcher asks if I was hit... "No... hmmm, I don't think so..." I knew my adrenaline was pumping so I might not feel a gunshot wound... "Standby...", I tell the dispatcher. I take off my shirt and look for any holes that may have been caused by a gunshot wound. I did have some blood on my shirt but that was from cuts from the shards of glass that were now scattered all over my home. "No... no bullet-holes in my shirt", as I chuckle about the absurdity of the phrase that just came out of my mouth. I check my bleeding legs and quickly determine the blood is only from the glass... "No, I don't think I'm hit", I again tell the dispatcher.
So, would someone refer to this incident as "stressful" or would they refer to this incident as "exciting"?
As my doc was checking me out a few hours later, she asks, "So, the stress of this incident didn't trigger an episode of any kind?" She was referring to my Systemic Mastocytosis episodes which can be triggered by stress, not excitement. I just kind of chuckled and said, "No... this was excitement... not stress." I then quickly explained that what most people feel is stress, what I feel is excitement. Some things which I find stressful, others may not find stressful. "This kind of stuff just reminds me of my career... that was exciting, not stressful."
My doc just shook her head, saying, "You really are weird."
________________________________________________________________________________
Now, back to my dreams over this holiday weekend...
Just like in real life, my dreams were depicting my old career as being quiet and a bit boring at times and then being sheer excitement at times. I dreamed of many incidents this weekend. Planes went down... rescue initiated... airfield being attacked... going mobile... gunfire... bombs... and even the mundane stuff like the constant studying, testing, paperwork, etc... it was all in these dreams this weekend. And, every part of the dreams was in synch with the barrages of fireworks outside in the distance or sometimes just outside the house at a neighbor's house.
I will describe the last part of the last dream I had before awaking this morning to give you a more descriptive example of these dreams...
Our airfield was being attacked and we had armed intruders trying to overrun the airfield. Thundering and rumbling explosions are heard and felt, near and far. Small arms fire was erupting here and there. I can hear gunfire in the background on the radio as someone keys their mic requesting help.
In this particular dream, I am mobile on the ground as I swiftly move across the airfield, from building to building, carrying all my gear necessary to continue carrying out my mission as an Air Defense Controller. The gear is heavy and bulky. As I am continuing my duties as a controller on the radio, I am engaging armed intruders.
I kill a guy here... I kill another guy at the next building. I'm careful about wasting ammunition because I can only carry so much. Next, I get pinned down behind a dumpster... a dumpster! (I suspect there was some symbolism in there.)
Every time I try to pop my head out from one side of the dumpster or the other, gunfire erupts and sprays the dumpster with bullets as well as the ground just beyond me. I try to the right side... same thing. I try to the left side... he fires there. I try to go up... he is ready there too. This goes on for a while as I try to locate the gunman or gunmen. I finally figure out that there is probably only one gunman and he is up on a wrap-around second floor balcony only feet from this dumpster which is providing me protection.
I know he is working his way closer. Each time I attempt to fire back, I only get off a round before he is spraying my location with gunfire. I feel debris hitting my face. At this point, I know that he is getting close enough that he can jump onto the top of the dumpster and then I will have no cover...
Rather than just trying to pop enough of my head out to get a shot at this gunman, I decide I must tumble out by surprise and then hope I can get one good, clean shot. I tumble out... I'm hit in my left shoulder... dirt is spraying up in my face... I feel my helmet hit by a bullet... I land crouched on my feet, completely exposed but about two yards from the dumpster now... I see the gunman on the second floor balcony coming toward me and taking aim...
I fire two quick rounds... one hits his shoulder, the next hits his neck... I hear the gurgling and see blood spurt out of the wound... he turns to run away... I fire three more quick rounds into the back of his head... I see blood and brains spurt out his face as he continues to try to run away... he pukes up a bunch of water like he was a water balloon or something... and then he collapses, dead, on the balcony. (In this case, I suspect the water is some sort of symbolism as well.)
I climb up onto the dumpster, then jump and climb onto the balcony (incidentally, I have none of my spinal pain in these dreams... no Systemic Mastocytosis problems in these dreams... I am healthy and feeling young again)... I make my way across the balcony to this gunman... he is lying in a pool of blood now, his face unrecognizable because, well... it is gone...
I start to make my way to the next building where I hear more gunfire... but... I awake. It is morning... light is streaming through my bedroom windows... all is peaceful, for now...
These are the dreams I have whenever I hear fireworks. When I smell fireworks too, the dreams get more and more graphic. On the positive side, for me, these dreams are kind of exciting. These dreams are my old career and I truly loved my old career. I was good at my old career. And, I miss this career terribly so it is always nice to revisit it even if only in my dreams. This career was about "doing good" and "helping people" and "making a neighborhood safe for everyone".
The problem, however, is that these dreams affect the effectiveness of my rest and I need a lot of rest to keep my health stable. Needless to say, whenever I go through bouts of dreams like this... dream after dream after dream... I get exhausted and my health worsens until I can get some rest again.
So... this past weekend I was hit with poor health and excruciating pain which negatively affected my mood during my waking hours. To say my mood has been lousy would be a gross understatement. Then all the constant fireworks being fired by our neighbors and off in the distance triggered dreams... dream after dream... the next picking up where the previous left off... constantly through each night. Fortunately for me, these "dreams" are just that... dreams... memories of better times... memories of times before all my pain and struggles.
I'm left exhausted.
And, my body still hurts terribly... but not as badly as yesterday.
I'm really not a big fan of fireworks... the memories and dreams they cause really wear me down terribly...
We had been invited to view Burlington's fireworks a few days ago but I quickly declined. I've always had a bit of a problem with the logistics of this particular event considering my health issues and disabilities so that made me hesitant to accept this offer but I also do have a problem with fireworks in general... and especially, the smell of gunpowder. The constant barrage of fireworks and the smell of gunpowder keeps my mind active through the night for weeks. This active mind causes dream after dream after dream. For me, these are dreams. Others might consider my dreams nightmares though. Whether dreams or nightmares, my effective sleep and rest is infringed upon drastically whenever this happens and that negatively affects my overall health when it comes to my struggles with Systemic Mastocytosis.
I need to add a bit of a warning here... What I am going to write could be considered a bit too graphic and may cause nightmares. So proceed at your own risk...
Because of all the extra medications I have been taking in an attempt to stabilize my health, I have been very tired, drowsy and groggy. Needless to say, I did a lot of sleeping through this holiday weekend. The dreams I had during this sleeping, however, were directly affected by the constant sounds of fireworks all day long and all night long. The sounds and smells of fireworks caused constant dreams and even caused me to awaken startled at times thinking I was anywhere but at home in bed.
In all of these dreams, I was back in my old career in the Air Force as an Air Defense Controller. At times during these dreams, just like during my career, I was in a command center. Other times I was on the ground. Other times I was in the air. The current situation would dictate how and where I conducted 'business'.
Many of these dreams were quite tame. Those outsiders who sometimes observed us (potential new recruits, inspectors, etc) used to joke about our jobs being exceptionally boring punctuated by periods of sheer terror. For us, however, those periods of sheer terror were periods of excitement. Nothing in life compares to this excitement which is probably why many of us in this career field enjoyed extreme sports. (Something I can no longer do because of my spinal injuries and the debilitating effects of Systemic Mastocytosis.)
________________________________________________________________________
As an example of terror/stress vs excitement...
After I became disabled and was forced into retirement, I had an incident at my home which is a pretty good example of stress vs excitement.
I was in my living room, sitting on the couch with my back to the windows and the road. The road was about 25 yards away and up a slight embankment. As I was sitting there, my mind was dwelling on gun sights. At this point, since I was retired, I didn't own a weapon anymore and I've never really been "into" guns anyway so I was a bit confused why my mind was dwelling on gun sights. Still, I got up from the couch, walked to my desk nestled in the corner of my living room and booted up the computer thinking I should do a search on gun sights.
"Gun sights... gun sights... why are gun sights on my mind?"
This should have been a sign for me but I was not making the connection. You see, throughout my career, I was known for being able to 'feel' things coming. I always seemed to know when an accident was going to happen... or some other emergency... and I would end up being the first on the scene. In my job, I always seemed to know when the shit was about to hit the fan.
For instance, before pilots would declare some sort of in-flight emergency, I would 'feel' the need to pull out the emergency checklists. Others would see me reaching for the checklists and everyone would go quiet, just listen, watch me, and wait. I would page through the checklists... I would stop at a particular checklist... in this case, In-Flight Emergency. Before long, the radios would crackle with a pilot calling in from a distance...
"Command Post, Quiver 3..."
"Go ahead, Quiver 3, Command Post here..." my hand already on the Crash telephone (just lifting this handset would send a call to the tower, the Fire Department, Security, and various agencies who needed to know we had a crippled plane trying to land)...
"Declaring an IFE here... hydraulic failure... standby..."
At this point, everyone would explode in activity running through checklists... the same emergency checklists I already somehow had known to open. So, I always had this odd sixth sense when it came to this sort of stuff. This allowed me to be at the right place at the right time more often than not (although many would say "at the wrong place at the wrong time").
Now, back to my living room a few years after being forced into a mandatory disability retired... I had the term 'gun sights' running through my mind and I was not making the connection. After turning on my computer, it started booting up and then I stood in front the couch with my back to the windows and the road. I was standing there just wondering, "what am I supposed to be looking up about gun sights?" "Why gunsights?" "I don't even own a gun!" "This doesn't make sense..."
In an instant, the silence is broken by a loud whooshing gunshot, glass flying everywhere from behind me, and I hear a truck revving its engine as it starts to take off down the road. I dive for the floor... In my mind, I am identifying the sound as a 30-06 caliber or 9mm, shot through a jar causing a whooshing sound... "a whooshing sound?"
I land on all the shards of glass in my t-shirt and gym shorts... I don't know who shot at me or where they are at this point, but I know that lying on the floor like this makes me pretty damn vulnerable so I jump up in my bare feet and run across all the broken glass scattered across my home, out the back door... run around the opposite side of the house toward the road in the direction the truck was headed... when I get to the road, I see no signs of the vehicle.
9-1-1 is called... the dispatcher asks if I was hit... "No... hmmm, I don't think so..." I knew my adrenaline was pumping so I might not feel a gunshot wound... "Standby...", I tell the dispatcher. I take off my shirt and look for any holes that may have been caused by a gunshot wound. I did have some blood on my shirt but that was from cuts from the shards of glass that were now scattered all over my home. "No... no bullet-holes in my shirt", as I chuckle about the absurdity of the phrase that just came out of my mouth. I check my bleeding legs and quickly determine the blood is only from the glass... "No, I don't think I'm hit", I again tell the dispatcher.
So, would someone refer to this incident as "stressful" or would they refer to this incident as "exciting"?
As my doc was checking me out a few hours later, she asks, "So, the stress of this incident didn't trigger an episode of any kind?" She was referring to my Systemic Mastocytosis episodes which can be triggered by stress, not excitement. I just kind of chuckled and said, "No... this was excitement... not stress." I then quickly explained that what most people feel is stress, what I feel is excitement. Some things which I find stressful, others may not find stressful. "This kind of stuff just reminds me of my career... that was exciting, not stressful."
My doc just shook her head, saying, "You really are weird."
________________________________________________________________________________
Now, back to my dreams over this holiday weekend...
Just like in real life, my dreams were depicting my old career as being quiet and a bit boring at times and then being sheer excitement at times. I dreamed of many incidents this weekend. Planes went down... rescue initiated... airfield being attacked... going mobile... gunfire... bombs... and even the mundane stuff like the constant studying, testing, paperwork, etc... it was all in these dreams this weekend. And, every part of the dreams was in synch with the barrages of fireworks outside in the distance or sometimes just outside the house at a neighbor's house.
I will describe the last part of the last dream I had before awaking this morning to give you a more descriptive example of these dreams...
Our airfield was being attacked and we had armed intruders trying to overrun the airfield. Thundering and rumbling explosions are heard and felt, near and far. Small arms fire was erupting here and there. I can hear gunfire in the background on the radio as someone keys their mic requesting help.
In this particular dream, I am mobile on the ground as I swiftly move across the airfield, from building to building, carrying all my gear necessary to continue carrying out my mission as an Air Defense Controller. The gear is heavy and bulky. As I am continuing my duties as a controller on the radio, I am engaging armed intruders.
I kill a guy here... I kill another guy at the next building. I'm careful about wasting ammunition because I can only carry so much. Next, I get pinned down behind a dumpster... a dumpster! (I suspect there was some symbolism in there.)
Every time I try to pop my head out from one side of the dumpster or the other, gunfire erupts and sprays the dumpster with bullets as well as the ground just beyond me. I try to the right side... same thing. I try to the left side... he fires there. I try to go up... he is ready there too. This goes on for a while as I try to locate the gunman or gunmen. I finally figure out that there is probably only one gunman and he is up on a wrap-around second floor balcony only feet from this dumpster which is providing me protection.
I know he is working his way closer. Each time I attempt to fire back, I only get off a round before he is spraying my location with gunfire. I feel debris hitting my face. At this point, I know that he is getting close enough that he can jump onto the top of the dumpster and then I will have no cover...
Rather than just trying to pop enough of my head out to get a shot at this gunman, I decide I must tumble out by surprise and then hope I can get one good, clean shot. I tumble out... I'm hit in my left shoulder... dirt is spraying up in my face... I feel my helmet hit by a bullet... I land crouched on my feet, completely exposed but about two yards from the dumpster now... I see the gunman on the second floor balcony coming toward me and taking aim...
I fire two quick rounds... one hits his shoulder, the next hits his neck... I hear the gurgling and see blood spurt out of the wound... he turns to run away... I fire three more quick rounds into the back of his head... I see blood and brains spurt out his face as he continues to try to run away... he pukes up a bunch of water like he was a water balloon or something... and then he collapses, dead, on the balcony. (In this case, I suspect the water is some sort of symbolism as well.)
I climb up onto the dumpster, then jump and climb onto the balcony (incidentally, I have none of my spinal pain in these dreams... no Systemic Mastocytosis problems in these dreams... I am healthy and feeling young again)... I make my way across the balcony to this gunman... he is lying in a pool of blood now, his face unrecognizable because, well... it is gone...
I start to make my way to the next building where I hear more gunfire... but... I awake. It is morning... light is streaming through my bedroom windows... all is peaceful, for now...
These are the dreams I have whenever I hear fireworks. When I smell fireworks too, the dreams get more and more graphic. On the positive side, for me, these dreams are kind of exciting. These dreams are my old career and I truly loved my old career. I was good at my old career. And, I miss this career terribly so it is always nice to revisit it even if only in my dreams. This career was about "doing good" and "helping people" and "making a neighborhood safe for everyone".
The problem, however, is that these dreams affect the effectiveness of my rest and I need a lot of rest to keep my health stable. Needless to say, whenever I go through bouts of dreams like this... dream after dream after dream... I get exhausted and my health worsens until I can get some rest again.
So... this past weekend I was hit with poor health and excruciating pain which negatively affected my mood during my waking hours. To say my mood has been lousy would be a gross understatement. Then all the constant fireworks being fired by our neighbors and off in the distance triggered dreams... dream after dream... the next picking up where the previous left off... constantly through each night. Fortunately for me, these "dreams" are just that... dreams... memories of better times... memories of times before all my pain and struggles.
I'm left exhausted.
And, my body still hurts terribly... but not as badly as yesterday.
I'm really not a big fan of fireworks... the memories and dreams they cause really wear me down terribly...
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