My turn for a very rough night. Lots of strange dreams. Woke feeling lousy but good enough, I thought. Then the internal movement began, until I feared losing my breakfast as well. Migraine reared, and meds followed, interspersed with calls to work to let them know I would be lurking at home today, in the dark, socially unacceptable.
Moby on me much of last night, an uncomfortable comfort, welcome. This morning when I still figured I could make it, he circled me until I held him, and he nosed at my face. I don't know what this gesture means in Cat, but I find it soothing and touching, a kind blessing. After D got up to soothe me as well, Moby had a good chase - distracting me from my inner misery.
And I thought about the word 'distraction', and one does at moments like this. In surgery, distraction involves pulling a joint to allow access for repairs, sometimes with a traction device. In knee arthroscopy, it's mostly just the pressure of fluid pumped through, with the surgeon manipulating the lower leg - often in rather awkward looking poses to get the right angle. Precise, but not really gentle. In general surgery, holding back soft tissue is called retraction. When they strap me and pull me in PT, it's simply traction. Which drives me into a state of distraction.