Today I was meant to stay in bed (as I am meant to be on bed rest still as per the drs orders), endlessly scrolling through Netflix trying to find something I haven’t watched. If there was a trophy that I could win like when I complete games on my PS4, I would definitely have got the gold trophy for “Completeing Netflix”.
Honestly, I don’t think there is anything on there, other than childrens films and TV (and even some of those I have watched for nostaligia or due to sheer bordem) that I haven’t watched or at least tried to watch.
But this morning, as once again I lay on my back staring at the ceiling trying to muster the energy to get up, my mum asked me “Do you want to go and see Lesley and Martin?” Of course I did, I called them “Mum and Dad 2.” They have been 2 of the most important people in my life since I was 10 months old.
So I got dressed, and put on some eyeliner. That was about all I managed. My hair wasn’t washed and I wasn’t even 100% sure that the clothes that I put on were clean. But I grabbed my sunglasses and I got in the car. We drove over there and we had a cup of tea and a good chat for over an hour, and then that is when my mum dropped the bomb; “Come on Em, we better get going, I’ve got loads to do in town”
There it was, I should have guessed. It is never just one thing with mum, she likes to save all the activities she should have done over the weekend in to 1 day.
So we got to town and we parked up. We then went to all the different shops, did food shopping in M&S and then had to walk back to Waitrose where we had parked and did more shopping in there, with a few more shops chucked in between for good measure.
I tried as hard as I could to keep up with her as she walked and I tried to cover the stabbing pain tha felt like a poker was sliding through my belly button to my spine.
I was also sweating, just like I do every time before I am admitted to hospital and I was trying to subtly check my pulse. It’s high, I know it’s high.
I thought I was doing a good job hiding it, but apparently not. Or maybe it’s just a sense mothers have: as soon as their child is in pain they know. Just like a spidey sense.
She started to ask me how I felt, as we slowed our walking right down along the highstreet. Once at Waitrose, I was apparently I funny colour. And I was sweating again, so we went straight to the cafe so I could get some food and a drink.
I managed to keep something down so that was a bonus, but we still had to get the food from there that we hadn’t got in Marks.
A while later and we were in the car, and finally I thought “HOME! YES!!!” But no! I had forgotten that we had to drop the paper off to my Nan. We popped in, and mum had another cup of tea, because she is either at that age or of the generation that if you go to a place and tea is either sold or offered to you, you must accept.
We sat for a while in the garden with nan, and I ended up doing a few jobs for her, which I don’t mind doing, she’s my nan, I love her, and she is nearly 90. But today they took more effort. I carried on, sweating and feeling my heart pulse rapidly in my chest. “I’m going to pass out” that is all I could think as everything went a little fuzzy around the edges and I got hotter and hotter and my pulse raced faster and faster. I am not sure how but I managed to snap myself out of it and I finished my jobs. Again my mums spidey sense’s must have tingled because she made us leave straight after that.
I’ve been home nearly 2 hours already, but I’ve only just managed to sit down and start looking through Netflix. I came in, helped put the shopping away, took medication and then ended up washing up and starting to prep Harry’s meals for tomorrow.
My mum says to me “I’ll do it” as I start filling the bowl up with hot water and fairy liquid. And she will do it, but it won’t be done now like I want it to be done, and it’ll just annoy me.
I know I am meant to rest but I can’t rest if there are things that need doing.
It is a vicious cycle. I’m meant to be on bed rest, but then chores don’t really get done, then I feel ridiculously guilty that Harry and Mum work full time, and I don’t and then they come home and have to clean up too, because I have been in bed resting. So I end up doing everything and making myself worse.
Like now, here I am, promising my mum that I would get in to bed and watch Netflix, or read my book. Just resting. But after I sign off here, I have a plan to clean the bedroom. Get rid of any rubbish that we have managed to accumilate since the last clean and change the bed, and dust…. everything. Which I know will just make me feel worse, but I can’t leave it.
So wish me luck. I’m going to tidy, hoping that I don’t pass out or sweat too much or have a heart attack because my pulse is still raised dramatically.
Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow with the resting.*
*(Even though it won’t happen as I already have a long list of things that need doing tomorrow, as Harry is off, and I need him here to help do them. So maybe Tuesday will be a Netflix day)