Sunset at Stepping Hill Hospital, 29 August 2017
Regular readers of this blog will know that I am very fortunate as pain is not a large part of my fibromyalgia. I hope new readers will accept that fibro isn’t always all about pain.
FPR’s mother has recently been sampling the delights of the NHS, as delivered by Stepping Hill Hospital, which is to the south of Stockport in Cheshire. We live on the northern fringes of Greater Manchester which means there are quite a few miles, and an awful lot of traffic between there and here! Even though I love driving my car and find it less tiring to drive than my previous one, sitting in traffic is no joy.
On Tuesday of this week, FPR and I set off with Lettie, m-i-l’s best-ever black labrador, on a hospital visit. Having made an early start, we had decided, for various reasons, that we would return home before the rush hour. There were a couple of tasks that I was hoping to complete for m-i-l that day which was why we set off when we did. Yes, well, the best laid plans and all that. I think it fair to say that our day did not go as planned – it felt rather like swimming in custard with an anchor tied to the ankles.
Due to a particular problem that cropped up, and a poor decision made by me, we ended up getting home much later than anticipated – but at least I had the pleasure of having completed everything I had hoped to! Oh my goodness, though, have I suffered for it!
On Wednesday, I had a quiet day. I knew I needed to be careful having had such a full-on day on Tuesday and I was feeling a bit tired. No, that’s not quite it. I felt a bit ‘squashy’. By that I mean that my brain was foggy, and my body felt like the physical equivalent of that, resulting in an overall feeling of squashy-ness. I gently plodded through the day, doing a bit of knitting, a bit of reading, spending a bit of time on my iPad – nothing too strenuous – and feeling very pleased with myself. Oops, that last bit was a mistake.
On Thursday I felt diabolical. I was so fatigued, I couldn’t even reach the dizzy heights of squashy-ness. I took things very easy. I did less knitting, no reading and less time on my iPad, but, even so, I felt worse as the day wore on. By the time 4.00pm came I knew I needed to go to bed. I usually avoid sleeping in bed during the day as I tend to recover my energy better after resting (with or without sleeping) in my recliner chair. However, sometimes that just isn’t enough, and that’s what was happening on Thursday: I wasn’t only feeling completely exhausted, I was feeling decidedly ill and nauseous – and it was getting worse with every step I took. Going up the stairs was quite interesting as I had to stop after every couple of steps.
I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. Zonk!
I awoke at around 6.00pm for three or four minutes and then zonked out again until about 7.00pm. I felt very much better than I had before I went to bed, but I still didn’t feel great. However, I did improve as the evening wore on until, by the time I was thinking of going to bed, I was wide awake and raring to go. I stayed up a bit longer, doing things that should prepare one for sleep, then retired to bed. I lay in bed, wide awake, for a couple of hours then gave up trying to sleep and got up again. I eventually fell asleep in my chair for an hour and a half or so and that was it until Friday night. Consequently, I wasn’t full of beans on Friday either. Unbelievably, the fatigue and exhaustion were still hanging over me yesterday!
I had the pleasure of doing everything I had planned to on Tuesday, but, my goodness, I have paid for it with the psychological pain of fatigue and exhaustion that I have suffered since.