Tuesday September 30
I woke up easily enough (feeling like crap, but the ordinary, everyone feels like this in the mornings crap) but just didn’t want to get out of bed. There was no point. Once I was out of bed I’d still have Chronic Fatigue and all I would face in the day would be a list of things I couldn’t do, and extremely boring ‘restful’ activities that I am so sick of doing. I go through a predictable cycle of emotions that are a direct result of what my CFS is doing. “There’s no point” generally happens when I know that I’m still recovering from a few days of too much activity and I’m sulky at the prospect of diminished activity while I recover. It’s boring and frustrating and feeling upset or sad about it is very natural and probably psychologically important (what sort of psycho would be OK in this situation?).
Guy put Nelson in bed with me and at about 8.30 I humphed my way out of bed and through my morning stretches and core strength exercises. (See Claire, already you are doing better than yesterday!) Breakfast and pills on the couch with half an episode of P&P helped restore my mood. I took Nelson outside for a good brushing (He is moulting so much lately, would it be cruel to shave him?) and then just sat in the sun for half an hour. I hung out the washing that Guy had put on earlier, and put the next load on, and then lay on the couch with Nelson for about 45 minutes because laundry is exhausting and hello, here’s all the grump back again because being tired after hanging out a few shirts and a doona cover is JUST SHIT! It’s not fair and I want to do things. I want to go to work, I want to take myself places, I want to be able to clean the whole house and not have to consider just hanging up the washing a victory.
After resting for 45 minutes I took two Anzac biscuits that Mum baked just for Guy and definitely not for me because I’m trying to avoid sugar, and wrote up the diary for yesterday and today. After an hour of that I had a quick lunch and hung out the next load of washing. And then rested in bed because of course I would have to because who do I think I am, a normal person who can not only hang out a load of washing but also do many other things in a row without needing to lie down? I wish.
When Guy came home I took Nelson for a walk around the block while he made an early dinner. One of my every day goals is to either help cook or wash the dishes in the evenings, but tonight I just couldn’t – my muscles felt weak and I was a little brain foggy. I call this mild combination floopy. Sort of a pooped/floppy mash-up. Instead I had a bath while Guy took in and folded the washing and cleaned up in the kitchen.