ME/POTS and going ‘out out’…
… ‘Out out’ of my mind with worry that is.
Mum’s night out
It’s a fellow mummy friend’s birthday in a few days, and she’d like to let her hair down. And the best place to do this where we live is – a one-hour train ride away – in the city. She’d like us all to get dolled up, catch the train in, grab some cheap n cheerful food somewhere, and hit the bar where a band is playing; maybe sing a bit, dance a bit, drink a bit (or a lot – it’s optional), and see where the night takes us.
Sounds amazing!
This friend and I are part of a group of school gate Mummy friends. You know the ones: occasionally late, always forgetting important dates at school, happy to make totally inappropriate jokes, zero judgment of others, always happy to drop off or collect each other’s’ kids if one of us gets stuck, and all-round fantastic people to get through life and motherhood with. These are my people. And I really wanna join my people for this night out.
Letting my hair down … safely
Thing is, I haven’t let my hair down properly since before I got sick 8 years ago. I mean sure, in recent years since my health has improved, we’ve been out locally for dinner and a respectable few drinks several times a year. But never further than a 15min drive away, and I’m always home and in bed before pumpkin o’clock.
In other words, a safe night out, a safe distance away, within the safety of what I know my body is capable of. And crucially … sitting down the whole time.
Different ball game
Whereas, a night out in the city is a whole different ball game. I should know; I used to live and party in the city most weekends once upon a time, when I was single, childless and importantly – healthy.
… It was a LOT of fun.
Don’t get me wrong; I wouldn’t want to go back to that life. I’m way too old and knackered, and I like my evening hot chocolate and telly ritual with Pete, and my early o’clock old-lady-bedtime. But still. I’m not 80. I might feel like it most days, but my birth certificate assures me I’m not. Therefore, is it unreasonable to want to cut loose once in a while?
Umm … duuuuuh … of COURSE it’s not unreasonable. But being reasonable, doesn’t necessarily make it a good idea.
I hate that I have to think so hard about this. It’s a mum’s night out for fucks sake, not a real-life enactment of the Hangover movies. My husband has kindly removed my parenting responsibilities for the weekend, so I can rest before and after said night out. Which I massively appreciate. So, what’s the problem?
The problem(s)
God, where do I start?!
Firstly, there’s the one-hour train ride. There … AND back. I might get fatigued and brain-fogged from the sensory overwhelm of all the talking on the way there (ME has a habit of doing that to me when multiple conversations are going on around me), and then not have any energy left for the actual night out. Then what would I do? Go home again without actually having been anywhere?
Also, there’s the whole ‘what if it’s standing room only?’ issue. After all, it’s a Saturday night in early Feb. The long month of January is finally over and everyone has been paid; I expect most bars will be busy with people getting their social lives back on track.
In general, my POTS is under control … as long as I take my medication and abide by my body’s ‘rules.’ Rule number one being: do NOT stand on the spot for prolonged periods. ESPECIALLY in a warm room. This will make the blood pool in my legs, and starve my brain and organs of much-needed oxygen, resulting in a too-fast heart rate, too-low blood pressure, and me needing to either sit or play dead on the floor, depending on how severe my symptoms get.
… And if the bar is as busy as I think it will be, then it most likely WILL be standing room only. And very warm. Grrrr.
Or, what if we’re lucky enough to get a table, but then my friends feel obliged to stay with me rather than go dance? These women are so deserving of a wild night out, and I sure as shit don’t want to hold them back.
And what if I start to feel fatigued and/or lightheaded before everyone else is ready to go home?
Which is worse: getting myself home on my own when I’m feeling lightheaded, unstable and crushed with exhaustion, or waiting for my friends who may be a little tipsy (if they’ve been doing this whole ‘out out’ business right!) to come with me?
Totally aware
By the way, I’m totally aware of how utterly neurotic I sound. In my defense, I wrote all this while my ME was in a flare up and I felt like absolute crap (never the best time to be objective). Then I had a good day, decided I was being ridiculous, would be fine and should absolutely go and have some fun.
Though, in a way it’s good that I wrote down my concerns during a flare-up – because I wouldn’t have thought of all these potential issues otherwise. I have a tendency on good days to think I’m miraculously cured; I like to get out there and grab life by the balls and pretend there won’t be any payback.
… But there’s ALWAYS payback.
So, should I really risk it?
My life’s best decisions
If I’m being totally honest, some of the best decisions of my life appeared very unwise and borderline insane at the time.
Therefore, maybe it could all be fine. Maybe I’ll have an absolute blast! Do I really want to miss out on potentially the best night out I’ve had in nearly a decade because I was too scared to give it a go?
I just wanna sing loudly and badly, and dance like no-one is watching.
But like … in public for once. With my mates. Zero fucks given.
Sadly though, it’s just not that simple.
Possible solution?
Hmm. Is the ‘snake/worm’ back in fashion by any chance? You know the one – that 1980’s breakdance move. Because, maybe that’s the solution. I’d get to lie on the ground wiggling around a lot, keeping the blood flowing nicely to my brain – and everyone would assume I’m a FANTASTIC dancer!
… Or completely off my tits.
… Or having a fit of some sort.
… Or both (most likely).
Yup. It’s the only logical solution. Stand back everyone … Superworm comin through! 😜
