I'm too young to feel this old!


At 24 years old I was running about 20 miles a week and looking forward to a Saturday night out with friends. For me the weekend was always about dancing and drinking too much, then swearing I'm never drinking again the very next day.

Sadly I never learnt.

Every year my friends and I would book a 'girly holiday' and it was always so much fun and worth the wait.
I think we all look forward to time off work, whether that be rest days in a shift pattern or just the weekend after "working 9 to 5", as old Dolly would sing.

I never imagined 10 years later I'd be exhausted from putting the washing away, and then spending my Saturday night in with ice packs on writing a blog about chronic pain.

I think I've spent most of my working life counting down to time off, it's why we play the lottery right? That's not to say I don't enjoy my job, on the contrary but who doesn't love having time to go and have fun.

If only that was the reason I counted down to weekends now. 

When you spend all day, everyday in pain, weekends become about rest, and not about enjoying yourself.

Most chronic pain sufferers will know the expression 'spoonie', and it's the best way to describe our limited resources of energy. Each spoon resembles the energy required to complete tasks, to do the things most people take for granted. Getting out of bed, having a shower or getting dressed, for example.

If someone only gave you a certain number of 'spoons' each day, how would you ration them? You'd soon realise you don't have enough spoons left over to do fun things, the things you've been looking forward to all week. 

As sad as it may sound, the things I most look forward to now are hospital appointments, because each one is a potential step to a happier healthier me.
Each appointment gives me something to aim towards, so instead of counting down the days to work before I jet off on an adventure somewhere, I'm counting down to that next MRI, CT scan or consultants appointment. I've known this feeling for most of my adult life.

I'd prefer to have 10 appointments a year, than 5, even if that still means I'm no further forward to the 'fix', but they create milestones for my brain to prepare for, and then bite sizes of life in between to tolerate. 

Of course in the UK's struggling NHS system, short periods between hospital visits remain unlikely, and months apart are more the reality. There are times when I'm waiting for that appointment letter to arrive in the post, and it's agonising. To those who haven't suffered a long standing condition, it would seem insane, but without an appointment on the horizon, I feel incredibly low. 

I don't know how to explain it, it doesn't even make sense to me. 

My latest letter advised that they'll be sending me for physio before they contemplate yet more surgery, so at the moment I'm waiting for the physio start date. I need that date to workout how many days I need to get through before I reach that milestone, and without it I'm feeling incredibly deflated. 

When struggling through each day feels like a climb up Mount Everest, you need to know when your next rest is.

I always knew as I got older, I'd prefer the quiet life. I just never thought that I'd be 34 when that happened  

Comments

  1. I think you are incredibly brave. There is a sense of humour there. I was known for my Sharpe wit. I eas also k own for being a good tennis player, a more than average footballer, and a competant cricketer. When I tell people this now they laugh. I dont blame them in a way because I look nowhete near the fitness freak I once was. I feel your paib my lovely, and lokm forwarx to your next blog. God Bless you. Dont forvet, you are still very beautiful x

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The physical and mental strain, post op.

Painkillers, friend or foe?

Get well soon