Remember this episode? Or the one where we bought and then the Captain made stilts for my invalid chair? Well today has an eery feeling of déjà vu about it. On the whole, I would say that I have been living on borrowed time. What with all the lounging around, lack of exercise and general poorliness. Tsk.
Having spent the morning in bed (bad), I got up, ran a bath, sorted out stuff to wear and then committed the most heinous of crimes. I removed my glasses and placed them on my bedside table. And that was it. Pain exploded. Breath forced from lungs. Muscle spasms slammed sideways. Oh goody. A kaleidoscope of memory synapses firing all over my brain as my experience of the 6th February came flooding back to me. The good news is that I appear to be able to learn from my previous experiences. My previous policy of ignoring it and hoping for the best proved to be a bad one. So this time, following the inevitable call to the chemo hotline, I dosed myself up on diazepam and diclofenac, put the vein heat pad to another use, dusted off the invalid chair, and dug out the exercise sheet. Physio Extraodinaire is also on the case and her advice, as ever, is invaluable. The Captain is in the shed constructing stilts for the new kitchen sofa. Whatever would I do without these people? Cry, even more, I think.
It is fair to say that I am more than a little pissed off by this latest twist in the tale. Is it not enough that I have chemo to contend with? Apparently not. Yesterday was a bad day for me. I was pretty miserable on the whole. Having cracked the halfway barrier and moved onto the two thirds club instead of feeling elated, I have felt overwhelmed by what is still left to tackle. Each cycle gets harder and the knowledge of what is coming drags me down. I have still be reading through Psalms. Lately I have found myself in a group of great praise Psalms which are, of course, well, great. But they have not been hitting the spot for me. Instead, I am finding much comfort in the unrelentingly miserable Psalm 88. Here’s a taste:
13 But I cry to you for help, Lord;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
14 Why, Lord, do you reject me
and hide your face from me?
I love that this is included in the bible as it shows I am not alone. Because there are times when this is how I feel. It is a facedown flat on the floor moment before God. Even in the psalmist’s despair it is God to whom he speaks. I may not see God. I may not feel him. But I believe he is there. And therein lies my hope.