After over two years I still haven’t got
the hang of pacing myself. The doctors love to tell you to pace yourself and
not do too much on your good days. However, I go against this suggestion time
and time again and end up paying for it and being quite poorly and often am not
able to get out of bed. I never know when my next ‘good day’ is going to be so
I make the most of the energy I have there and then. The time following the
energy-sapping event is not fun. But I am aware of this beforehand so I only
have myself to blame (and this stupid illness!)
Yesterday I went to Middle Farm and then
for lunch with some of my friends! We all had such a great day, laughing until
we cried, being chased by chickens and hiding in bales of hay. It was lovely
for us all to go on a day out together! I do not resent my day out in the
slightest as I had lots of fun and enjoyed myself, but days out mean payback.
This is a small price I have to pay if I want to have fun with my friends and
I’m willing to pay it!
Today I am experiencing payback. I am
exhausted. I know I’m always exhausted but I’m really really exhausted. I
didn’t have an oxygen therapy session today, which was a blessing in disguise
as I’m not well enough to leave the house. I managed to get from my bed to the
sofa for a couple of hours and now I’m back in my bed. My beloved bed!
If I know I am going to do an activity on a
certain day, I have got in the habit of reserving the next day as a bed day as
I know I will be in even more pain, will be even more exhausted and even more
fuzzy headed than usual. Having this system is no doubt bad for me. I should be
reserving the energy that I have. However, if I didn’t go for a coffee at
Starbucks with my friend or pop round and see my Grandad, I would feel even
more deprived of life than I already do.
One day, hopefully I will get the hang of
not overdoing things too much, but pacing doesn’t work in real life. Situations
are constantly changing so you can never pace yourself completely but I would
love to not have to reserve the following day as a bed day. Although, how do I
know that day wouldn’t have been a bed day even if I didn’t enjoy myself at the
farm?
Take Care,
Rachel x
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