For a variety of reasons, FPR and I went on a quick coach holiday to Edinburgh over the Christmas period. I love Edinburgh but struggled to find a photograph which reflects that, to use for this post. Then I realised that when I think of Edinburgh feelings, rather than images, come to mind. That must be why it has taken me far longer to choose a photograph for this post, than to write the actual post itself!
Anyway, back to the point of this blog post.
Regular readers will know that I have been encountering more difficulties with the Fibro lately than I usually do. New symptoms have cropped up, with tiredness and fatigue being particularly troublesome. I had taken the build-up to Christmas gently to make best use of my spoons, but it had still made itself felt. Luckily, those around me are aware of and accommodate the restrictions of my Fibromyalgia.
We were staying in a hotel but had been invited to spend time with FPR’s brother and his family. We had also had an invitation to visit friends, so that was Christmas Eve and Boxing Day spoken for. We spent a quiet day at the hotel on Christmas Day. Well, I say quiet… but, more of that later.
The plan was that, on Christmas Eve, the entire family group would go to North Berwick for some cobweb-blowing therapy, but my cobwebs would be allowed to remain intact. In other words, they would walk and be battered by the wind, but I would stay in a cafe, snug and cosy, knitting up my own personal storm. However, as the weather was being a trifle unco-operative, North Berwick was knocked off the agenda. We adjourned, instead, to the House of the Long Men (so named by me as all the males were over six feet long!). The change of plan was a surprising bonus for me. Remaining at the House of the Long Men meant that I was able to properly relax. I enjoy having coffee in a cafe but it is definitely a less-refreshing form of relaxation than being with people, and in a place, one is at ease with. The pleasant result of the day was that I felt better than I had for a while. My Fibro symptoms eased right off. Bliss.
As I mentioned earlier, we were remaining in the hotel on Christmas Day, which was absolutely fine with us. Our fellow travellers were generally a pleasant bunch, our coach driver was cheerful and ready to chat with anyone and the hotel staff were pleasant, polite and helpful.
There was a couple on the holiday we had been talking with, both of whom had obvious disabilities. At mealtimes, the husband would to fetch his wife’s food first, then return to the buffet to pick up his own. In my interfering way, at the Christmas dinner I said to him that I would like to give him a Christmas treat by fetching one of the meals, so that they could eat at the same time. I was very pleased when he accepted. (What I hadn’t told either he or his wife was that I was going to be providing the entertainment.) He told me that they were going to have soup so I fetched two bowls of soup and a couple of rolls. When I was a couple of steps away from their table, my performance began.
I caught my foot on the wife’s wheeled-walker and went flying through the air, soup and rolls in hand. I made a technically superb piroutte before landing elegantly in a crumpled heap on the floor – and I didn’t even drop the soup! Actually, I must have dropped it at some stage as the bowls crashed dramatically, emptying their contents on the floor. I have to say that I was very pleased that I didn’t get any of the soup on me!
I will say, at this point, that contrary to what many people thought, I was not in the least embarrassed. I was disappointed for the couple that I hadn’t managed to carry out what I had promised. I was also upset that the husband tried to take the blame for my fall. It was nobody’s fault but my own. I had been the one to suggest that he park the walking frame in that spot and I was the one who tried to walk through it, instead of round it.
OK, back to the gory details of the performance. Help appeared from all directions, in an instant. I was not really hurt – just a bit of muscular pain and some preparatory work for a couple of bruises. I think you could say I was very lucky! I certainly felt lucky FPR jokingly said that’s what I get for doing a good turn and that I’d better not do any more but I hope it won’t stop me.
(This is where I found the photograph at the head of this article. It was one of the results that came up as being free to use, when I searched on Google. https://www.ed.ac.uk/literatures-languages-cultures/dashkova)