Hang in there, keep smiling, don't let it beat you, be positive.....
These are all things I have said to others when they have been feeling low or their health problems appear to be getting the better of them, I also say them to myself on the days when getting out of bed seems to be too hard to contemplate or the pain reaches levels where I just want to scream.
'keep going' is my mantra, act normally, behave as if you are coping and maybe just maybe you can fool your head into thinking you're not really having the most god awful day.
Sometimes it works, I go out when I'm sure my body isn't going to allow me to, I smile at friends/family who come round even though inside I may be screaming in pain and at times I manage to forget briefly that my body is packing up on me bit by bit.
And so it was today, Tuesday is the one day a week when I set aside my health problems, life's frustrations etc and go to the town with my mum, it's a day that holds such importance to us both.
For mum it gives her a few hours to be herself away from dad and her normal day to day routine and she also makes the most of having the car there and back and loads up with the heavy items they would otherwise have problems carrying home. Quite frankly Tesco would go bust if it were not for my mum filling her trolley in there every Tuesday, I keep pointing out that she is only shopping for two people not an army but the trolley remains as full week in and week out.
For me it is my opportunity to spend quality time alone with my mum, we talk and laugh and pull the world to pieces each week as we sit in BHS and partake of a roll and coffee.
Strange how once a week becomes a norm to people isn't it? The bakers we go to every Tuesday before heading to BHS know us and know that we have 1 cream donut and 1 cream puff and that 1 week it's mums turn to pay for the cakes and the following week it's my turn. The ladies there joke with us every week as they duly wrap our cakes that one week one of us will have something different and mess the system up but we don't as we are creatures of habit.
The ladies that serve us in BHS know what we will have, they know that mum likes extra butter with her roll and that we both prefer apricot jam to strawberry if they have it. They greet us like friends every week and turn a blind eye to the fact that we bring a cake in from elsewhere and eat it there at the same table each week.
I must at this point tell you what actually happened to mums cream slice this morning.....
I removed it from the bag as I always do, the box came apart and the cream puff fell out of the box, bounced once on the table onto my leg before coming to rest in two pieces cream down on the floor at my feet. I did offer to scrape the cream up off the table and my leg and the floor before giving it to mum but she declined my kind offer and I ended up sharing my donut with her instead.
This morning I woke up at 7.30 after a not too bad night, infact I only remember having to get up once in the night which is pretty good for me these days.
Trevor was still sleeping and between us as she often is in the morning was Molly, she wagged her tail as I moved slowly testing my joints to see if they would let me get out of bed yet. Usually I take my Meds and wait an hour or so for them to kick in but I don't have that luxury on a Tuesday as we try to pick mum up around 9ish so we can get to town before it gets too busy.
I knew it wasn't going to be an easy day as the pain down my left side suggested a bus had run me over at some stage during the night, my right side is not as advanced in the condition as the left side yet so I'm guessing it was only a mini that hit that side!
I mutter to myself as I get ready trying to convince myself that I can make it, that if I only get out I will actually start to feel better and so the chatter begins, it goes something like this....
'if I can just get through the morning I will give in to it this afternoon'
'it's only today, tomorrow if I still feel this rough I will allow myself to stay in bed longer'
'if I pretend not to notice how much this shoulder is hurting it will stop'
'come on girl, just get on with it, don't let it stop you going out with your mum'
'make the effort, what are you? Some kind of wimp?'
And so that annoying voice goes on, pushing me to make that extra effort, forcing me to pretend that I am ok, making me carry on as normal as possible.
Is it a good thing?
Well yes I think we all need a voice that encourages us to live as fully as we are able, and yes it would be so easy to give in to this at times.....
Why though is that wrong?
Because maybe some times we need to just be 'too sick' to do things
Sometimes we need to stop pretending and let others see just how awful things are for us.
Sometimes it is ok to 'not' be so strong and the screaming you are doing internally should be heard, needs to be heard.
But not today......because today was town with mum Tuesday.
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