Sore Sunday

I woke up at 7.30am in absolute agony. My neck and shoulders were on fire. I struggled out of bed, had my coffee, made breakfast, took my meds and hoped for the best but the pain didn’t ease until about 1pm.

Today’s photo is a selfie I took at half nine this morning. I don’t like photos of myself, even when I look better -  when I’m dressed up with hair and makeup done but I think it’s important to show the world what the reality of an invisible illness looks like. I think vulnerability can be a strength.

I spoke to my friend Rosie this morning, we speak almost every day. She also suffers from fibromyalgia and has ME/CFS and PoTS too. 

Apart from our health issues, we have a lot in common and have formed a fantastic, supportive friendship. We met online through a local ME/CFS/Fibromyalgia support group and are planning a coffee and catch up as soon as we both feel well enough.

I am going to take a nap now the pain has eased and later on, I plan to start reading a new book, The Remainders of the Day by Shaun Bythell. I’ve read two of his other books which are diary entries about his life running a second hand bookshop in Wigtown, Scotland. 

They’re really funny and his writing really lifts my spirits. If you haven’t discovered him yet, I highly recommend his work. He has a very dry sense of humour!

I hope you’re all having a lovely, relaxing weekend.

Below is a poem I wrote last October about the aftermath of a storm. I hope you enjoy it. I don’t think I’m a particularly gifted poet but I do enjoy writing poetry when my health allows.

29/10/2021

THE MORNING AFTER

My wheelie bin was issued by the Council
when I was thirteen.
Born in 1994, it stands strong
through all the West of Scotland
wind, rain, sleet and snow can throw at it,
steadfast through every Dumfries deluge.

The pavements and kerbs
are a sea of capsized red and blue.
Biodegradable and flimsy, lacking the resilience
of its 90s elder.
Gaping lids spew the domestic clutter
of a thousand homes.
The khaki food caddies lie neglected and pathetic.
No waste food here.
Every morsel stretched out to fill ravenous mouths
until the hope of the next food parcel arrives
to cut through the bleakness of an achingly damp Dumfries day.

Maybe Mother Nature is irate at the empty mouths
of a nation.
Not only for food
but for genuine change.