So my GP has upped the gabapentin again and swapped my tramadol for oramorph which means that whilst I feel like I’m a functioning human with thankfully a marked decrease in pain, I pretty much resemble Neil from the Young Ones.
My hip spontaneously popped back in during a year 10 class causing me to yelp in a very unprofessional manner which made the kids laugh, then when they realised what he crack was make the urgh that was your bones! face.
Whilst discussing trying to balance pain relief with being conscious with the GP she asked me how I was coping at work. For the first time in ever, I answered without hesitation or putting my Shields up (totally caught off guard). I’m not.
I was a brilliant teacher and as much as they still get 100% of me, there’s less of me to go around. I can’t work as much in the evenings and weekends because I’m recovering from getting myself out of bed and being present and focused in the classroom despite levels of pain that make me want to make guteral birth noises.
I’m just not ready to let this part of my life go. I’m terrified of the financial consequences of not working. And yet despite all of these things, I long for some time to hibernate and recoup some spoons. It is a worrying point when I look back at the day I caught norovirus and spent the day holding a bucket on the bed so I could watch Star Trek whilst hurling (every 10 minutes) and consider that “me time”.
Norovirus has got nothing on the way EDS is kicking my arse, and yet here I am taking my pills, drinking my drink, then crawling into my chair to act like I can totally cope.
Tomorrow is another one of those 13 hour teach then parents evening days.
This too shall pass.