Yesterday was a tough day. Lots of symptoms all vying for attention and not responding to any treatment in the form of pain killers, heat or massage, which left me a little miserable. I did not wake up until 2pm, having only just managed to prise my eyes open for long enough for my Mum to give me my neurontin at 9am and too be honest at 2pm I was all set to roll over and go back to sleep again. But it was time for another tablet and to make sure I ate, to help my pain and fatigue levels and also it was a beautiful sunny day. Yes Newsflash it is still hot in the UK!
As it has been so nice all week my need to be as active (well you know what I mean) or perhaps I should say that my cabin fever has not been too bad as I have been putting in the effort and somedays it has been an effort to get downstairs and to sit in the sun. To try and let the sun heal some of the aches and pains as it often does on holiday and work its psychological wonders. That is predominantly what my week has consisted of, especially this weekend. Me and Mum have just enjoyed lying out in the sun, relaxing. Well except for when the neighbour decides to get out his circular saw to cut paving stones and then hammer, hammer hammer them into place and people feel the need to share their dreadful music tastes to the whole village. But I can honestly say that I have only spent my days sunbathing, resting, reading and blogging and watching tv of an evening. I learnt my lesson about bringing a few sets of clothes etc downstairs with me before I went out so I didn't have to keep traipsing up the stairs earlier in the week. I have been content too, to do this little, which is an achievement. However yesterday everything ached or burnt with pain (not sunburn, luckily) to the point where it turns your stomach and you start breathing like you're in labour. I managed to get outside around 3pm but soon experienced the most strange of symptoms I could feel the heat of the sun on my skin but I had the shivers and goosebumps. It was sheer madness and definitely something very strange. Even at 2am when it was still around 17 degrees I could stand to have a hot water bottle to soothe my aches and pains.
It really did annoy me a bit. Not so much the new symptoms, or even sleeping till 2pm but the fact that I ached like I had been hit by a bus when I had done so little. I know it happenns, I have blogged about it happenning but I had been being good. I had consciously been doing less and relaxing and not multitasking and was coping. I had even got a bit more of a routine going. But then to still be hit by screming pain to the point of not being able to brush my teeth by myself and having to get my Mum to cut up my dinner for me was a bitter pill to swallow. I felt like screaming "honestly, what more can I do?" But that is the nature of the beast, sometimes it doesn't matter how good you are at the end of the day you still have a chronic illness and as Miseandino said you can never forget about it. It is very easy to have good days and sing Hallelujia from the roof tops but push too far and you're back to suffering but this time as I say I thought I had been being good. Perhaps it is a delayed reaction to to last weekend or last Tuesdays few hours in Chester. All I know is that it has really bit me in the bum. You would think that each flare or bad day gets easier to deal with as time with the condition progresses but actually it still feels as fresh as ever. It is not opening up a new wound but making a whole new cut. Yes your knowledge can improve of how to cope with it and with the condition as a whole but each grasp of pain or new symptom is consuming and frustrating. Especially when like I say you thought you had been being good.
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