We’ve probably all heard an old wives’ tale or two, haven’t we? Do you remember, as a child, pulling a face only for your mother to say “you should be careful or the wind will change and your face will stay like that”? I must admit, I have never seen anyone whose face did actually stay like it!
I remember, many years ago, hearing or reading that each of us is most awake and active at the time of day when we were born. I can’t remember whether it was from a printed article, a TV or radio broadcast, or whether someone said it to me. I have no idea whether the idea has been looked at scientifically but I tend to think of it as a bit of an old wives tale. Anyway, that little gem found its own nook or cranny in my brain and slept there for years, just occasionally waking up and giving my mind a little nudge, before dozing off again.
This week, my pet snippet decided to poke its tiny head out. Just a quick “hello”, you understand.
I was born in the middle of the night, 3.10am actually, and there have been plenty of periods when I have been quite a night owl. The first such period I remember was when I was at primary school: for several weeks I would wake somewhere around 2.30 or 3.00am. I was wide awake and would go downstairs. I would get myself something to drink, and possibly a snack, then settle down comfortably in an armchair and read the daily paper. I remember my mother coming downstairs the first time this occurred, and asking me what I was doing. I simply said that I had woken up and was wide awake so had decided to sit downstairs and read the paper. As I wrote that it sounded rather precocious but it wasn’t meant to be: I was just answering her question. Well, she accepted that answer and went back to bed. And, just like that, the whole family accepted that I got up for a couple of hours during the night. As I said above, it went on for several weeks.
At various times in my life, I have gone through these periods of early morning activity. It may be more accurate to say that they happen in the middle of the night. As a teenager, one of my jobs at home was to do the ironing. My favourite time to do it was immediately after I had been out on a Saturday night. I would return home at something like midnight or 1.00am, entering through one of the bars in the pub we lived in. I would say ‘hi’ to everyone who was at that night’s lock-in, then go through to the living quarters and do the ironing. I would have the radio blasting out (we were well away from any houses) whilst ironing clothes, with the back door wide open. As I look back, I realise how unwise it was to have the back door, not just unlocked, but flung open. Ah, the folly of youth! Oh well, I wasn’t confronted by burglars, nor did I suffer anything worse than a few moths coming in because of the light. Obviously Fate didn’t feel very tempted by my actions!
Since retiring from work early, I have often noticed that I don’t feel like going to sleep at a ‘normal’ time. However, I don’t necessarily heed that inner voice but do go to bed at a reasonable time. Not this week, though. I began the week with a few days of moderate fatigue. After a couple of days I realised that, as the day turned to evening, the fatigue would begin to lift slowly. This meant that by late evening I was feeling I had some energy that could be used. I have been known to do vacuuming when I feel like this late at night – not this week, though. I am in the middle of a huge sorting and decluttering job so expended the energy on that task. (When I say ‘energy’ it is a relative term. Don’t imagine I am leaping about because you would be sorely disappointed at the reality!)
It is not easy to figure out how much of this week’s fatigue and energy peaks and troughs are due to Fibro. At a guess, I would say that they are part-Fibro and part-Old Wive’s Tale.