Monday, April 23, 2012

ME - my body - a little moderation

Reduced my hours ensconced in the duvet lair to the usual twelve (last PM – this AM) but, as is far too common, I didn’t feel much refreshed as I emerged into the mid-morning grey. Muzzy head, sore throat and lower limbs feeling rubbery leaden, I didn’t even contemplate venturing as far as Open Church this morning, so I restricted my exercise to a faltering stroll to the local bakery to collect our wholemeal loaf.

Once I’d decided on the bakery goal, I popped a fully stamped up Café Culture loyalty card in my pocket, to claim a free drink on my way back to the house; such was my clarity of thought and intention that I walked straight past the Café on both outward and return journeys, forgetting to claim myself a treat!

The hours hung most heavily by mid-afternoon as I drifted into a somewhat discomforting intermittent nap; an hour spent in this condition felt like an eternity of awakened drudgery. At this point my old familiar pains in upper limbs, from armpit to wrist, kicked in once again but were alleviated reasonably quickly with 100mg of tramadol.

Overall though, I can’t complain as I’ve frequently had much worse days than this and, I remain grateful that I’m only a moderate sufferer.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Stormy Weather

My most recent flood of tears almost put the current downpour of rain and hail to shame. A prolonged wearily exhausted phase of being has not always been easy to cope with; even an almost constant bruising constricted sensation across chest and upper abdomen fails to overwhelm the spasmodic aches and pains in the upper limbs (apparently emanating from the armpits).

Having emerged from the duvet lair, some thirteen hours after retiring thence, I went downstairs to prepare a chicken, peppers and mushroom casserole for dinner, as well as parboiling some potatoes in water infused with my special blend of herbs and spices. By the time the initial preparations were done I was ready for another rest; I duly retired to the lounge and enjoyed watching our avian visitors in the garden. Goldfinch, coal tits, blue tits, house sparrows, blackbirds and wood pigeons all vied for my attention.

After lunch we transferred some video footage of Wesley Chapel’s Anniversary and rededication service, from 1994, to DVD. It was good recognizing some old familiar faces in choir, congregational pews and pulpit, and it’s especially interesting as that is now Helen’s home chapel, just as it was for my parents in their later years. As I finalized the DVD a fascinating Human Planet documentary, which had just started on BBC1, captured our attention.

We both enjoyed watching the Senior School Choir of the year semi-final and, the three choirs chosen to go through to the final coincided with our selection. Shortly after that programme had finished my problems began; as I sat down following a visit to the loo I suddenly found myself breathless as my chest and abdomen felt as if they were being held in a vice and, I felt my colour drain away (the pallor duly observed by my beloved) and felt very nauseous. The crushing aches and pains were vying for attention everywhere from shoulder, through the torso and down to the lower limbs. As I gasped for breath, the tears began to flow and I felt terribly afraid, just feeling totally terrible. The tears flowed for at least twenty minutes as the sundry symptoms became unbearable.

I am just relieved to feel normal (with my old familiar lower level aches and pains) once again. as I sit and enjoy the company of my beloved!   

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Monday, April 09, 2012

of spoonie normality

Each time I’ve set out to write a blog post, of late, an insufficiency of either/and/or physical, intellectual or emotional stamina has managed to suppress the desire. That  statement gets me to thinking, once again, of normality; when ones reserves of stamina, or effects of sundry aches and pains, are totally unpredictable (not only one day but even one hour to the next) what kind of criteria should one apply in order to define a normal day?

Contrary to the hopes and wishes implied at the close of my “much ado about little” posting (24 March), a considerable degree of payback was evident in the succeeding days. The most positive thing I can say about the excruciatingly shattered low days is that they enable me to appreciate, albeit retrospectively in some cases, the goodly number of better ones that I am blessed with!