Today has been one of those
where sundry, apparently minor, ailments decided to stamp their cumulative presence
at the forefront of my consciousness. Earlier in the day, after an all too
familiar restless and discomforting night abed, nothing troubled me more than my
familiar nagging aches in limbs and torso but, by mid afternoon, cold-like
symptoms in palate, sinus and gravelly throat moved dramatically to the fore. Quite
early in the afternoon I’d felt rather light-headed, as the room became giddyingly
hazy, moving in and out of focus, and I felt rather nauseous; although the
experience was reminiscent of when I suffered with labyrinthitis, on this
occasion it dispersed rather swiftly.
Unfortunately, a couple of
hours later, as I prepared to take Piper for his evening walk, the light-headedness
returned with a vengeance and I had to reach out to the hall wall to prevent
myself falling. Strangely, I’d been considering whether I should once again resort
to use of a walking stick, to support me on my gentle perambulations. My OH
helped me back to the lounge where I rested on the sofa feeling pitifully sorry
for myself and indescribably fearful. It seems that too many consecutive nights
of un-refreshing sleep aren’t too good for one’s sense of well-being. Never
mind though, I should by now be more accepting of the state of unwell-being
that has accompanied me for the past thirteen years.
The persistent detonation
of fireworks, by persons known and unknown, preceding and subsequent to both
Bonfire Night and New Year’s Eve / Day have at times turned our outgoing rescue
dog, Piper, into a quivering heap seeking sanctuary in corners, under cushions
and, squeezing into previously non-negotiable spaces, besides, between, and
behind the seated forms of ma belle and myself. On New Years Eve he, meaning
Piper, ran up to the bedroom and snuggled into the bed behind my beloved, and
as the erratic explosions continued well into the early hours, eventually
burrowed under the duvet to settle down between the recumbent forms of his people.
Fortunately for ma belle,
very little disturbs her slumbers and, even after the aforementioned disruption
of the nights’ more usual routine, she still emerged bright and early to give
Piper his morning walk before going out to lead worship and preach at Harlow
Moor chapel. As for me, my fitfully erratic sleep pattern was only marginally more
disrupted than is the norm.
No comments:
Post a Comment