The leg discomfort I experienced earlier returned abruptly one day while I was playing my digital piano. A sudden wave of numbness hit me, triggering panic. I lay down for a while to recover, and later shared my experience with my wife. A visit to the doctor resulted in a diagnosis of peripheral neuritis—though a neurologist had previously said it was due to compressed cervical nerves. Fancy names, I thought, but the treatments didn’t seem to fix much. Worse, the prescribed medication caused significant weight gain. Over three years, my weight ballooned from 63 kg to 75 kg, mostly gathering around my waist.

Frustrated, I eventually stopped taking the medication and told my doctor I wouldn’t continue. I managed the discomfort with pain creams, which allowed me to sleep reasonably well. However, a new problem arose I could no longer sleep on my back and had to sleep on my side. It wasn’t ideal, but it was manageable.

Even during radiation therapy, where I had to lie on my back for PET and MRI scans, I found ways to cope. I would apply pain cream liberally and push through the sessions. However, the hormone injections introduced new challenges, weakening my knees. I now struggle to stand, though once I get moving, I can walk briskly.

Sleep, however, has become elusive. I wake up at least once during the night to use the bathroom. In the past, I’d fall back asleep immediately, but now I toss and turn for hours. The situation is made worse by the air conditioner shutting off between 2 and 5 a.m., leaving me awake and irritated. I’ve considered listening to audiobooks or podcasts, and I plan to revisit Andrew Huberman’s series on sleep for solutions.

These days, whenever I feel sleepy, I seize the opportunity to rest. Sleep is too precious to let slip away.

Contd. 321. If You Lose This No One Is Going to Search for It