Its Friday and I’ve got two more days to go of my COVID isolation, my partner has three or four. Yesterday was a recovery day. My partner adn I both napped for long periods of time in the afternoon as we recovered from my partners night in A&E. Fortunately I had the energy to put a meal in the crockpot for the evening. The evening was very much eat and watch TV evening. My partner took a long bath and I stared blankly into the TV screen at old Mock the Week episodes. We went to our respective rooms knowing it was the only way we would both get any sleep. I have acquired an irritating tickly cough which would have kept sus both awake. So I take my drugs, think about the blog, but its too late now I have run out of spoons radically. The light goes off, I cough and so my night begins.
Friday morning dawns and I dutifully take my meds at 6 o’clock and then then fall back to sleep for another two hours. On waking I check my messages and then compulsively do three more puzzles to get my head going. I eventually get up and make marmalade bagels and warm drinks. My partner appears and we dine while planning how to do as little as possible while covering the essential bases of domestic life and recovery. Of course our Eldest Daughter will do some odds and sods shopping for us but otherwise he world will need to come to us. This was something a friend had vividly reminded me about in the last couple of days. So my plan is to go ahead dead slow, one thing at a time and see how my spoons go.
I am aware here that I must be a purveyor of doom and misery at the moment, so I apologies to all of those people who I am messaging, writing to and otherwise communicating with. Of course as an adult we all know there is sod all that anyone can do about my current maladies and we also all know that hearing about such things is a pain. Being given such information raises all the issues around not being able to do anything, and the uncomfortable thoughts about “why can’t they just be better” , which we know is not charitable but would save us the discomfort the knowledge affords us. This is especially true for those whose Real Worlds are already full of challenges with their own and families struggle to survive and thrive in an increasingly harsh Real World environment. Is this where friendship, humanity and kindness fights its battles in that no matter where we are we are somehow able to recognise and acknowledge the difficulties of others. One of my favourite observations was by Gil Scot Heron and American poet and commentator. He was asked about his view on living with others to which he replied, “If you can help someone along the way, why wouldn’t you, yea why wouldn’t you?” I guess we all tell each other stuff because if we can we will help but know that its the “if we can” that is the rider clause in life. Its knowing we could and choose not to which is the harsh other side of this equation. That’s the wrestle and knowing that friends would if they could and its okay of they don’t because they can’t. At which point I go to contemplate this in a long and warm bath. I may be back later, there may after all be hedgehog news.
The bath was warm and long and as I accidently used a seaweed bath bomb I lay arranging floating patterns of aquatic leaves. I do puzzles, stare into space and gradually get more wrinkled and chilled. I would like to say that I leapt refreshed from my bath but it was more a choregraphed sloth dance which got me dried and dressed. I sat on the sofa exhausted! How can having a bath be so tiring? I start to watch an old rugby match and then I get a call from my sisters GP. Its an error but I promise to ring my sister and pass on a message about a prescription. I keep my word and ring my sister who picks up. We chat for a while and it seems that things are as good as they can be. It was god to hear her again being her old self. Call over I watch TV and then prepare pasta for my tea, my partner can not face the pasta so makes an alternative. I watch too much NCIS and get to feel twitchy, so while “My Name is Leon is on I write more of the blog. Its Friday night and barely 9 o’clock and I am knackered. I like to think that just like a cold I will wake up well and be back in the gym but it does not feel like it, the fatigue is inscribable. I know some people who know what this is like, it is them who taught me spoon theory and why I my blog, letters and messages are peppered with references to spoons. I’m sure I have referenced it before here in the blog, but in case I haven’t here it is.
I am now completely out of spoons. Good night.
