Ok, I admit it, I have over done things and I'm paying the price. Decided to go out with one stick and my pull along shopping trolley on Friday and Saturday. The fact that I was a bit stiff when I got back from the one-way journey on Friday (friend took me to Waitrose for a cuppa and chat and I walked back) should have taught me something, but NO - muppet in action - I decided to do more than double that in Saturday and only just made it home. It was getting to be a real struggle and I was just determined that I was going to do it. How can you call for help about 200 yards from home - my pride says that you can't, so I didn't. Muppet.
Pride comes before a fall. I didn't actually physically fall, but I am back moving around the house with the aid of one of my walking poles as the muscles across my lower back seem to have gone into panic mode. I thought I could just start using the trolley again and it wouldn't be a problem, but I haven't been about to use it for about 3 months now as I had to give up trying to walk any distance at all before my operation. I have recovered so well I have become arrogant and proud about what I can now do, and where I can go.
I am just annoyed with myself, and also disappointed that my body won't do what I want it to do. It is not as though using the trolley is a bit thing, but I have failed to comprehend that still have to take things easy to be able to get back to where I once was. Until this recent hiccup I was back to being better than I was before the operation. I have just failed to remember how bad that was! I have rejoiced in having a joint that isn't painful, and forgotten that the rest of the body needs to adjust to this especially as it is doing things that it has never been able to do before in its entire existence!
I go back to work tomorrow, which is embarrassing as I was doing so well, and now I am hobbling and don't feel as though I can phone up on Monday morning and say I can't come in because I have been stupid and overdone it. There goes that pride again.
I now I have a life limiting disease, but I don't want to give an inch to this. I can just get on with life and I feel as though I can't really ask for help. Maybe I need to learn to be kinder to myself, but then maybe it is just the inability to accept that I will soon be 52 years old. 52 for heavens sake! I am middle aged. Accept it. Live with it. Just get on with it. Whether or not I have a life limiting disease I am at an age when I can't do what I could 25 years ago and I need to find ways of accepting this on so many levels. But just one question. Where DOES the time go?