I guess that it is going to take a while for me to return to being just me. Christmas is always the same, too much to eat, too much to drink and not enough sleep. All my great plans of getting up an hour later, have been happening, but they have well and truly been undone, by the desire to watch TV programs when aired, rather than the next day. I guess, that no matter how used you grow to the modern world, some pleasures, still have to happen at the right time, or their just not the same. Mind you, the modern world destroyed one program for us. Our sky box decided that it was going to freeze up totally and need rebooting, half way through “Dr. Who”. We still haven’t actually seen the end of it, as there just hasn’t been time, but we will, so no one, please, don’t talk about it. I have had so many programs ruined over the years, by some TV personality, or news anchor, deciding to talk about it, before I’ve seen it. I suppose, though, I have discovered why people don’t make life changing decisions, or changes to their lives until the New Year, there are just too many ways, for the Christmas season, to screw it up. Sleep will be sorted, but probably, only partially, until the first week of January.

On the whole, my body went through Christmas day without doing anything too horrendous, but it’s still working on making up for that today. The price of having a really nice day, as that, was exactly what we had, is a body that needs to recover. When you start from a low, a position in life where it doesn’t take much, other than a minor change, to throw your entire body into hell, well what on earth do you expect Christmas to do to you, other than destroy you. I guess in some ways, that why Adam and my spending a quiet day, just the two of us, is the perfect way to handle it. Yes, there is still a lot of change, that come with all the days trappings, but there is also a thread of normality, that is my anchor. I didn’t get through the day without pain, without spells when spasms were attacking me, but by keeping things low key, I survived. Without a doubt, it wouldn’t work, unless, Adam didn’t just see the need for it, but actually embraced it full heartedly. I remember the first year that we separated ourselves from family, I was so unsure about how it would work because of Adam. He has always been a family boy, in his life, there were four important women, me, his mother, his grandmother and his sister, all of whom he adores. It was when his Gran died, that Christmas was allowed to change, as his sister had her partner & his mother had moved out of Glasgow. If I had been well, I would have insisted on stepping forward and we would have taken on the Christmas gathering, which once happened at his Grans, but I wasn’t up to it at all. Nothing was said before it, we just had our first Christmas as a couple. But I do remember so clearly, how at the end of the day, Adam without prompting said just how nice it had been. Our Christmases were set for the future and we’ve never regretted it.

There isn’t a single aspect of life, especially family life, that chronic illness does affect. Too many people, the work of just setting a proper table, one that speaks for the day; of decorating the house fully to capture the season perfectly; meals that take weeks of planning and days of cooking; then all the shopping; the presents to be bought and wrapped; not to mention the day itself; is too much for many who are fit and healthy, for us, they’re a nightmare. I know without a doubt, there would at one point have been whispers that I, and possibly even Adam, never heard. Words said about how I was destroying things, refusing to take part in things, as it’s just one day, what was the problem? I know they would have been if not said, at least, thought, as until my health destroyed me, I would have thought just the same. It is incredibly hard for people who aren’t ill, or doesn’t directly care for us, to understand, it isn’t one day, it’s weeks. There is whether you’re the host or a guest, a stress to Christmas that is unlike any other time of year, and our personal monsters, just love stress. Although I not once felt as though I had had a drink, I kept myself gently dosed with enough alcohol and morphine, to keep my body relaxed. Probably, not what any Doctor would want to hear, but it worked for me. Just a day, with a meal, a large dose of normality, mixed with entertainment. Followed by who knows how long before my intestines recover and stop throwing spasms, in disgust at being stuffed. For all the aching and painful muscles that complained about the constant visits to the kitchen and back in my chair, how long before they die away? How long before I can wake up, feeling just that little bit more awake than when I went to bed? How long before I settle back to my “normal”? How long will all that and more take, after all, it was just one day? Did I miss those Christmases past? Yes. Do I want them back? No, no and no again!

There is a wonderful comfort found in knowing that although, I can’t make his family understand, or probably anyone else’s, that we still had a really good day. In fact, it was the last thing that Adam said to me before I went to sleep on Christmas night. “That was a good day!”

Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 27/12/2013 – One more tear and one more to come

It seems that life is set to keep you guessing and to confuse you constantly, I still haven’t the slightest idea what is up with me, all I do know is that I really am not myself. Yesterday the tears didn’t flow…..