It's been a while since I've updated on the sitch with the 'ole M.E.
Mainly because I didn't want it to become the dominate theme of the blog (clue's in the name: It's not all Me, Me, Me. See what I did there?) and also because, well, there wasn't really all that much to say. Since around the beginning of January my symptoms seemed to have stabilised. I felt as if I was able to do just that little bit more, without paying too much of a penalty. I was still a long way off being cured but, crucially, I felt that it was at least a possibility. One day. In the early months I couldn't envisage a time when I'd be "normal" again.
However, in recovering from a cold I caught over a week ago (the first full blown one I'd had since becoming sick last summer), I feel like I'm right back where I started all those months ago. I have less than no energy, the simplest chores are once again leaving me drained (taking a shower, for instance, has fallen way down on the priority list. Judge all you like, but this is the sad, and frequently unpleasant, reality of living with M.E.) and the lightheadedness has returned with a vengeance.
A cold is never a pleasant experience, but I've been surprised at just how much it's knocked me for six. Perhaps it's naive of me to have assumed otherwise, I don't know? As far as colds go it was a pretty benign one, but the same can't be said for the aftermath.
Of course, it could all be a coincidence and it's just the merry-go-round of symptoms, characteristic of this illness, in full swing but I doubt it.
Either way, it's wholly dispiriting and serves to remind me- just in case I'd had the temerity to try and forget-that I really am at the mercy of this condition. Hyperbole, or not, I've come to realise that what little control I had over my body (that which hadn't already been purloined by my COPD), has gone, and this, for me, is the hardest thing of all.
I apologise for the doom and gloom of this one woman pity party, but honestly, if I didn't have this valve, this means of release, I swear I'd go mad. On top of everything else.
In other- more cheery- news: three days until my birthday. And counting...