Learning to Stand Again10:54 AM
This picture was taken during the 60 minutes I actually spent outside of my house on Friday.
I woke up that morning in a state of pain and fatigue I hadn't experienced in years. Knowing that working at the office was out of the question, I crawled to my home office and set up shop at my desk. But as I tried to compose emails and actually do my job, my heavy eyes began to close, and my body contorted as it tried to find a comfortable position.
I knew I was completely useless. I made it a whole two hours into work before messaging my boss that today just wasn't going to happen. I rarely call in sick, but on Friday... I just hadn't felt like that since before I was diagnosed with endometriosis.
Immediately, I went back to bed, only waking to put some food in my system and then go back to sleep. Despite painkillers and a heating pad, my whole body shuddered with pain, and I reached behind me to grab onto our non-existent headboard for support. What was going on?!
There was a brief respite around 5 p.m. when I left the house for a whole hour to attend an event I was obligated to be at. (And look how nicely I cleaned up!) But the whole time, I felt nauseous, and I hunched over where I stood, as my body tried to sort out every awful symptom.
|Actual footage of me at that event|
I lasted there as long as I could before returning to my dark and cool bedroom, where bright lights wouldn't further irritate my pain.
Now a week later, I still have no idea what set off such a severe flare-up. Had I been in just a little more pain, I probably would have had to visit the hospital. When I was a kid and experienced early endometriosis symptoms, nothing but sleep would ever ease up my crippling pain that coursed through my entire body. That's how I felt on Friday - for the first time in years.
All of that is to say that, unsurprisingly, I haven't felt that great yesterday. I have a lot of things I wanted to pack into one blog post, but I thought I'd talk about just one of them for now.
As I've been dealing with abnormal amounts of pain and fatigue lately, it's been irritating to also deal with the list of things I have to do and my desire to actually get them done. My husband, Andrew has been amazing at picking up for my slack around the house while I sort my body out, but there are some things that I just have to do for myself.
Like, for example, put on my own makeup. Or dry my hair. Andrew is unfortunately useless in these departments.
These really shouldn't be difficult tasks. Neither should making my dinner or cleaning off the counters be such challenges. But what makes them so hard for me is the fact I have to stand in one place while my entire pelvis is on fire.
Moving around and walking honestly aren't as hard for me. I think it's why I can sometimes (but not recently, obviously) manage a work out, even if I've been hurting that day. But standing... nope. Can't be done.
After talking to my mom about this, she had the perfect suggestion, and I have no idea why I didn't think of it on my own. Mom, being a cancer patient, has the same issue with standing that I do. So to make it possible to get things done in the kitchen, she got a bar stool.
Immediately, I jumped onto Facebook Marketplace to see what I could find. And lo and behold, someone was giving away for free this poor abandoned bar chair!
|So sad and homeless! #adoptdontshop|
Andrew drove off to rescue the chair and bring it back to our loving home. I don't think he quite understood initially why I needed it, but as always, he was willing to do what I needed to make myself feel better.
The chair - which I've affectionately named Tony for absolutely no reason whatsoever - is now stationed in my kitchen, ready to report for duty. So far, he's helped me put on makeup before my physical therapy appointment and make dinner last night. Knowing that I have a chair to support me makes it easier to even start these tasks when I'm in pain and when moving doesn't seem like a fun things to do.
I felt a little ridiculous needing a chair - at 25 years old - to do routine chores. But I got to a point where I just wasn't being productive anymore, and I didn't enjoy having to shout recipe instructions to Andrew from my place on the couch. I want to do these things myself. I want to take care of my home and enjoy making food and do my hair and makeup in the morning.
So if I want all of these things, I can't be too prideful anymore. I have to meet my body halfway. And I can't be ashamed of what it needs.
I won't need Tony every single day or every single week. But it's good to know that, like my actual supportive husband, he's here for me when I do need him.
Now if only he could take care of that pile of laundry and dirty mirror...