RLS Roulette: 600 Miles and 4 Hours of Sleep

Last month I experienced the worst journey I have ever had the misfortune to be part of since my battle with RLS commenced. Starting at 12 AM midnight, the decision was made to travel in excess of 600 miles in one trip. This horrific time was chosen to enable us to avoid the masses of daytime traffic (except lorries!) during the bulk of the driving.

I realized my prescription medication had run out

While packing for this excursion, imagine my horror when I realised that my pramipexole prescription had run out a couple of days prior, leaving me no restless legs medication! This was the first sign that the journey from hell was going to encompass one of the worst attacks of RLS I have ever had.

Squeezed into the passenger seat of our car, the first few hours passed without too many issues. My daytime tablets still seemed to be having an impact, thankfully helping me doze — then, all of a sudden, I awoke to a familiar crawly feeling twinging in my calf. Not thinking too much about it, as I was half asleep, I stretched my legs into the footwell in front of my seat.

This small expression of tiredness led to excruciating pain, as both of my calf muscles locked up, leaving me writhing in agony.

The urge to move becomes overwhelming

The pain must have lasted 10 seconds, if that, but it triggered 4 hours of frustration, tears, and resentment.

If you suffer from restless legs syndrome, you will understand this experience, as you have probably lived it a hundred times. Sitting in a stationary position when you are in the midst of an attack is untenable. The urge to move becomes overwhelming, leading you to massage your legs, making tiny movements to hopefully alleviate the creepiness — or, to my detriment, hitting my legs with my fist to divert the pain elsewhere! Lastly, trying to sell your soul to the Devil to just make it stop doesn't work. I tried.

Booking a hotel so I could get some relief

After the 10th stop, my husband had finally had enough of my squirming. Whilst I plodded up and down a parking area to find some relief, he booked a hotel so I could at least soak in a bath, with the hope that I might stop swearing at my legs!

The relief that I wasn't going to have to deal with my legs much longer was short-lived. Occasionally, the one thing that you do that normally calms them down actually makes them worse.

Ultimately, the stay in the hotel led to me being kicked out of bed, as my legs stopped my husband from sleeping. I then tried the floor, as it was obvious I wasn't going to sleep! Then, 25 minutes of tossing and turning later, I gave up.

RLS cannot take away our memories

Throwing my hands up in despair cost me £59.00, as I rented another room, allowing me to watch TV till 4 AM. Ignoring my legs helped them calm down immensely, leading to 4 hours of sleep — oh blissful sleep.

Hoping that with sleep came settled legs, I went into the next day with renewed vigor, starting with another 3-hour nap in the car (added bonus of chronic pain medication: the ability to sleep on a jagged rock!). Bleary-eyed, staring out the window at trees and hills, the relief was overwhelming; just sitting still, admiring the nature whizzing past. Melting into my seat, attempting to breathe in the clear air lightly scented with pine, homegrown fire smoke tingeing the air, reminding me of fun times, laughter, and love.

RLS may take our sleep, our sanity, and our patience, but the one thing it cannot erase is our memories.