Sensory Overload

When I got home from my treatment today, I was so sleepy that I lay down to take a nap. After an hour, I got up, and that’s when sensory overload struck.

Sounds assaulted me: my son’s voice, his cough, a loud engine in the neighborhood. It was almost like they smacked into my brain, making me cringe. They were almost unbearable. I had to have silence. I couldn’t even risk a cough jolting me, so I eventually went back to my room, closed the door, and turned off the lights.

But I could not turn off my thoughts, which also were almost physically uncomfortable. I could not listen to music; that would be another assault on my brain. I needed absolute quiet, which was not available. The faint sound of Joseph’s voice as he tutored a math student online came through. And my tinnitus, of course, continued its high-pitched buzz. After another hour lying down, it seemed like things weren’t quite so intense, so I got up again.

And now I sit at my computer trying to explain what sensory overload feels like, for me, at least. It gives me a better idea of what it may be like for my 10-year-old grandson, Josiah, who has autism. Sometimes he sits or walks around the house with a finger in each ear. Or he yells or cries and runs off to his room. I even get the yelling or crying part. My own voice does not disturb me, though I am so tired and sluggish that speaking is a chore. Listening and comprehending are much harder.

Just now, the furnace kicked on. It is annoying. My tinnitus continues. I hear Joseph and his student talking about math concepts. I usually prefer bright light. However, right now, the light feels too bright—but if I turn off the overhead light, the computer screen’s brightness will be too much in the dark.

For whatever reason, I can write. It could be due to the writing getting my thoughts that won’t stop out of my head and onto the screen! But reading or even playing Kindle games seems like too much stimuli.

I’m not sure where I can find relief. My sense is that this disturbance is temporary. I expect to wake up in the morning with it gone, even though the fatigue will remain.

When I say “fatigue,” it is more than the feeling of not having had enough sleep. There is exhaustion mixed in, difficulty concentrating, and general malaise. Those are the days when I must be gentle with myself and refuse to feel guilty when I get nothing done.

But there are several silver linings: my labs from yesterday show that the tumor marker test has dipped down even more, from 34 to 28. Those numbers are well within a normal range. When I told Dr Moussa that I wondered if the pleural effusion was coming back, he had me get a chest X-ray, which showed that the effusion was gone! Very good news, indeed. Before the end of the year, he will order a PET scan to see if any solid tumors have developed.

Next Thursday, I will have another treatment followed by an injection the next day to help my white blood cell count to stay up. And then, due to Christmas and New Year's Day falling on Thursdays, my next treatment won’t be until January 8. What that means to me is my energy level will very gradually increase! Last week (with just one extra week between treatments), I was able to read two novels, drive the car a several times for a couple short errands, and do a few things around the house. Plus, visit the grandkids, of course.

Elijah’s fourth birthday was yesterday, December 2. It was so much fun to see his excitement!