This morning I woke up and got out of bed and headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle for tea and coffee. Sounds pretty mundane but for months just getting out of bed was a task and putting the kettle on almost impossible.
Up until today getting out of bed meant trying to figure out how to get to a sitting position. My wrists were so sore that trying to push myself up was painful. Rolling over and trying to use my "core" would only work if my core was more cement less Jello. So getting upright was about trying to balance the pain. Once upright then it was on to the actual standing. My knees were so sore that putting pressure on them was excruciating. Which would lead to the next problem, since I would lurch onto my feet I was often unstable. The weight shifting to my ankles and feet was no better as they would both scream under the new pressure. I would take tiny steps until my joints loosen up enough to shuffle.
We have two bathrooms: ours, a large bathroom with a tub and enclosure and the boys with a concrete shower. It was impossible to use ours two reasons. The first I couldn't get my knees over the bathtub to step into the shower. The second there are no walls near the toilet so I couldn't use anything to help me sit down or stand up. So off to the boys bathroom where I could at least use the facilities. However most days turning on the shower was painful as my hands would be so stiff trying to turn the knob took two hands. Putting a kettle on impossible- filling it with water and lifting it would have resulted in disaster. So for months Brent has made my tea every morning because I couldn't do it myself.
This morning I was positively gliding across the kitchen to make tea and coffee which garnered comments from everyone. Being pain free lasted for our car ride, our walk along the ocean, up to Leapers Hill and into dinner. I have never been so grateful to my body or probably the pharmacist Brent got medicine from yesterday.
I feel a mix between terror and hopefulness. What if this is just one good day and tomorrow I won't be able to move again? But then what if this is the turning point where I start to get better?
Here people are very religious, and I know they would say give it to God. I tend to be more spiritual and I know that my pain is a lesson, my relief is a lesson and whatever comes next will be a lesson too. I can do my best to make the conditions favourable for a recovery, but ultimately it will happen when it is supposed to happen.
In the meantime I am going to do some yoga while my body is in a giving mood!