The Straw That Breaks?

Decided to have a quick shower.


I'd put it off this morning as balance dodgy.


Kept making up mind to climb those stairs.


Kept having to lie back down to gather strength.


Finally made it into shower.


Now too crashed to type for long. Or make much sense.

Can't raise my hands or get warm. Chest feels like its swollen with pain and tender with the effort of breathing in and out. Legs and arms belong to some other sucker.


So not much today.


One thought adapted from a comment I heard the other day. It sums up my experience of M.E. and is no doubt true of so many other so-called "invisible illnesses":

Stay with me for a day. Choose a good one, and you'll leave thinking I seem ok.

Stay with me for a week. You'll begin to glimpse how far from "well" looking "well" for a few hours really is!

But my thoughts, like yours, I guess, are all with Japan. No matter how sick or spent and weary they are, for thousands there's nowhere to lie down, or shower, or rest under their own roof. There are no words to cover that. No easy answers. Only mourning and lamenting with them, doing what we can to support them in the rebuilding, and praying with them for strength for today and hope for tomorrow. 

 "A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoking wick he won't snuff out, until he has brought justice through to victory." Matthew 12:20 in the NIV


or as the Message version puts it so compassionately:


"  He won't walk over anyone's feelings,
         won't push you into a corner.
   Before you know it, his justice will triumph;"

One "Flu"-jab over the Cuckoo's Nest

Well, another year dawns!  From my own experience and from listening to others with M.E., I know this time of year can be a tough one.

After the frantic preparations in the lead-up to Christmas, many of us can overtax our strength and immune systems before we even realise it, until the "crash" comes and makes us lay down our arms for a while! The line between "doing" and "being" is a subtle one, but an essential part of our armoury in combatting and living through this persistent, sapping disease.

Since my last blog post in October, I've certainly had my ups and downs. I was overjoyed to discover one of my short stories, "The Butterfly Wall" was to be published in the January edition of "Writers' Forum Magazine" here in the UK, and kept busy on my better days through November, when brain-fog was at a minimum, writing the first draft of my new historical novel. At about the same time I was hit by a virus which meant I was too unwell to attend my GP's annual flu jab fest. Every year it's a dilemma of "ip-dip-my-blue-ship"* as to whether I should have the jab or not.

Most years the flu jab has preceded a huge flare-up and worsening of my M.E. symptoms. So I wasn't in a hurry, once I began to pick up a little, to re-book the appointment. Even the nurse at the practice agrees it is difficult to advise what's best: as a Type 1 diabetic, I am in the "at-risk" group who are advised to get immunised, but as an M.E. patient, my immune system has ideas of its own that can make the jab less than helpful! (Solution - don't be greedy enough to have both conditions concurrently!)

However, I have now booked my shot for next week. I know at least 3 friends in our local area have been hit by severe, life-threatening Swine Flu in recent weeks, so I feel it my duty to have the jab, whatever effect it has on me, in order to protect those close to me. My mum's own health, always resilient even at 79, was compromised by the month-long saga of my failed boiler (as Facebook friends know only too well - zzzzz!) through the coldest winter in living memory, to the extent she has developed shingles in her head and the added extra side-effect of Bell's Palsy, so I refuse to put her or others at risk of catching flu from me just because the jab has adversely affected me in the past. The current jab formula claims to protect against Swine Flu, too, so perhaps it will be worth the risk this year. I hope so.

Then, the day after I finally decided to book the appointment for my jab, the national news revealed this week a shortage of the flu vaccine in some parts of the country. There's still time to race me for mine, if you're desperate - five injections a day is plenty for one body, already, if you ask me! Just call me "Pincushion"...

* The phrase "ip-dip-my-blue-ship" comes from a playground game we used to play at infant school in Yorkshire in the 1960s. The rhyme goes:

"Ip-dip, my blue ship,

Sails on the water,

Like a cup and saucer,

Out goes YOU!"

I've read about other variants since then from all parts of the country. The rhyme accompanied the counting round of the participant children's legs until the last person counted on "YOU" was out of the running for being "it" or "on" in the subsequent chasing game. The phrase is still used in my house (by me, anyway!) to express the horns of any dilemma!

Always something to be thankful for

This past fortnight or so, just typing at the laptop, sometimes just reaching the keyboard has made me so sick and weak I can't keep up. Let alone cooking. Cleaning out the fish. Answering door/phone to perky dead-eyed salespeople hired not to tell you what they're actually flogging. Standing and speaking at the same time. Remembering what I'm supposed to have just got ready to do. (Living, we often call it!)

My ears are ringing, my eyes feel blow-torched. Muscles jerky and painful. Breaths in and out exhausting as my chest muscles/diaphragm (3 tries to spell that by stages!) are so painful, weak, burning. Yet can't get warm even with heating on (while I can still afford to put it on!). Spirit willing? Tick. Concentration/ co-ordination? Nil.

I try to read to research and plot my novel I so want to motor on with during November's NaNoWriMo mentioned in my last post. I can't make sense of anything, even simple stuff, most of the time at the mo. Thank the Lord for the times I can get on a bit.


I try to birdwatch. My forearms quickly grow too shaky and sick to raise the binoculars. Eyes won't focus or bear the beautiful autumn sunshine. Thanks the Lord I can hear them singing though, sweet as symphonies!

My fault. Agreed to take service I promised months ago and determined to carry through with my resolve. Went to friend's funeral the same week and after a disoreintating busride, was cuddled and chatted to death by dear friends I hadn't seen since I collapsed 5 years ago, from one of my old churches. They'd missed me. I'd missed them. I made it to the afternoon and have been crashed most days since. Silly enough to have my birthday this month too. Overkill!


Doing stuff when I can. Having to put the lights out and curl up to catch up on frazzled sleep when I can't.

"Pacing!" the whispered reminder comes from the few who understand. I know, I croak. It's just that life doesn't....

Blood sugars all over place. Hypo or hyper 90% of time. (Just took me a second try to spot where the "%" was hiding on my supposedly familiar keyboard.). Sugars erratic from stressed-out immune system fighting unseen infections. Not doughnuts.

That's enough for today.

But it's something!