I could be at a petting farm with my family right now, watching my kids ride a pony for the first time and meeting the Easter Bunny.
But instead, I’m sat in my mother’s conservatory with crippling fatigue and a fucking nosebleed.
I guess this is what me and Pete get for making plans to go on a road trip to see family in the second week of the Easter school holidays. I mean, seriously – what did we expect? That I could keep the kids entertained, running around doing all the ‘things’ with them in the first week of the holidays … and THEN still be well enough to go on a trip to see family and have fun-packed days out with them in the second week? Tut tut.
Well, I say tut tut … but honestly, sometimes I’d be fine with this plan (or at least, fine-ish for someone with ME/POTS); I’d go on the trip, do all the days out, have all the family fun, a fantastic time would be had (completely fuelled by adrenaline of course), whilst ignoring the holy hellfire of damage I’m doing to my health. Then at the end, I would crash and burn for however many days, weeks or months deemed appropriate by the ME Demons in charge of my penance – whilst quietly telling myself it was worth it because I got to be ’normal’ and do ‘normal’ stuff like a ‘normal’ family for a week.
But sadly, this is not one of those times. The Demons want their penance, and they want it NOW.
… And we’re not even halfway through the trip yet.
So yeah, this sucks balls big time. It wasn’t nice explaining to the kids that they will be going for their fun day out to the farm without me today, and that I’m likely to be missing from other days out over the next few days. We’re all disappointed, but sadly, we’re all used to it.
This is life with ME. The diagnosis should really come with a forehead stamp that says ‘UNRELIABLE’ in bright red ink. That, and a leaflet of side effects to give to family members – with the first (and most common) side effect being, ‘will let partners, kids, grandparents and other family members down at a moment’s notice. If this side effect persists (which it definitely will), continue your plans and life without them.’
Still, it’s not all bad. My mum’s big, quiet, tidy house always feels like some sort of peaceful retreat or spa break in comparison with our small, messy, noisy, chaotic home. Or at least, it does when the kids aren’t around. Which they’re not right now, because they’re too busy sweet-talking the Easter bunny into giving them a fuck-tonne of chocolate this Sunday.
So, it’s feet-up time in the conservatory, enjoying the warm sunshine and gentle breeze through the open door, as I rest in the worlds comfiest reclining sofa – without a single child, husband or grandparent to interrupt my calm. There is literally no noise other than the sound of birds singing.
… Well, birds and a dumbass wasp that managed to buzz its way in here okay, but can’t seem to buzz its way back out. Still – it’s more peaceful than the constant buzzing of kids in my ear. (I love the little darlings really!)
