I woke early this morning, at first I wasn’t sure as I have woken in a gentle slow way and at first I was totally unaware of any reason for it. I lay there with my eyes shut with the thought of sleep first in my mind, then I liked my upper lip, suddenly I could taste salt, really intense salt. I lifted my hand and touched my lip to find that it was covered with what felt like sand, touching other area’s the sand was turning into larger crystals and all of them salty. I wasn’t sure about what was happening so I sat up and it was at this point that I also noticed that the sheets on the bed were damp. Not so much wet as the feeling they had been sprayed lightly with water as I would have done in years gone by when I actually ironed sheets. The dampness was only on my pillows and down to just below my shoulders, the same area of the duvet was also effected. There were no crystal anywhere below my neck that I could find so I headed to the bathroom to see what was going on. My face was covered not just by a dusting of salt, but more like someone had used a salt mill over me, there were a mix of sizes all clear to the eye. Both my hands and my shoulders also had a covering but I wasn’t totally sure if it had managed to get there thanks to my trying to find out in the dark, just how far it was spread. I know that a women of my age should expect night sweats, but I thought they would cover my entire body not just the top of me. Even allowing for the menopause as a possibility I have never heard of anyone sweating that much that their sweat turned in to salt crystals and on anyway, how long does it take salt to turn into crystals? Why does my body have to keep finding new and usual things to do to me? It is almost as though I am not allowed to just coast along without any dramas, mind you can you really count salt as a drama, I’m not sure.

So another day starts with yet more questions about my health, I would really love to be able to get through just one hour without my body causing me some sort of problem. Chronic illness doesn’t go away and I don’t expect it to, but to just have a few precious minutes where for one I could actually have a baseline which I have no memory of and to just enjoy a body that works. Before I started this paragraph I went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of coke and get rid of my porridge bowl. Standing caused what I now expect after so many days of finding my feet has been an issue, but what surprised me was when I got to the step down from my desk to floor level, I stopped. I stood there for just a second, but enough for Adam ask what was wrong, I of course said nothing, but the truth was I didn’t know how to get down that one stupid step. I did it, but I had stood there totally convinced until I forced myself, that I was incapable of doing so. I was stood there with my toes just over the edge, I flexed them to be sure of just where I was and which leg felt the strongest to take that step and hold me. Once again I was asking my legs to do what they were created for and their decision was that they couldn’t do it, when the truth was I could. That’s what happens thought when you are let down time and time again, you stop trusting in your own ability. My leg muscles where giving me the signal that they were not going to be able to hold my weight and that they were going to collapse under me, I know if Adam hadn’t been here that I would have put down my glass and I would have held onto my desk until I had made it down the step, bravado pushed me on. Add to that the short walk to the kitchen and back, well I am now sat here fighting to type and feeling like I just want to lie down, but the beds just too far away, or is it?

The more you are let down the harder it is to have any trust in your own body, loosing the trust, is just as bad as loosing the actual ability. Your mind is a tough one to fight against, I suppose it is a bit like having a phobia, it is totally irrational to believe that I can’t take just one simple step. Every time I leave or return to my desk I take that one little step, but suddenly now it has become blocked in my mind, it has grown into a dangerous thing to do. It has been building slowly over the last few months and yes I have been holding onto my desk or at the very least having a hand ready to grab if I needed to, but it was the feeling inside me that has changed, I felt real fear. Once you have that fear, well it doesn’t go away, it is the same fear I had years ago when I last made it out of the house and even when I was being carried or in the stair climber, that fear was still there. I guess this means I will not be going up and down that step without actually having hold of something, it’s a good job that this house has so much furniture, it’s hard to go anywhere without something to brace yourself on.