Last week was not good. I became very stressed, more so than usual! However, waking up on Monday morning didn’t feel any different to any other Monday morning.
I had set the alarm for my early ‘Bodypump’ class. Children weren’t at school so my drive to the gym was effortless. I managed to run for fifteen minutes on the treadmill without wanting to tear my hair out from boredom! So this was a good start to a Monday.
The weather behaved long enough for my husband and I to have a three kilometre walk before lunch. My Fitbit was showing an impressive amount of steps! I had made him happy!
Monday began to deteriorate when I visited my mother. She was not looking well, very pasty and hadn’t taken any food or little liquid by late afternoon. I was given a glass of her energy drink and persevered for the next hour. My mother remains very stubborn. The care home have been told by her doctor not to ‘force feed’ her. They couldn’t even if they tried. There is no way my mother can be coaxed into taking either food or drink if she doesn’t want it!
I report back to my brother and sister every day. Monday’s text was not good. To make matters worse, my mother kept on looking at me with a strange expression on her face, as if she was trying to ask me something. It was also the afternoon that the senior carer told me that my mother’s skin had begun to break down and she had a bedsore.
Monday evening I had booked a visit to an osteopath as I was having problems with my right arm. This was annoying and, even though I had ignored it and carried on with my exercise routines, it wasn’t getting better. I rested it over weekends but the discomfort remained the same so decided that rest wasn’t the cure either!
It was pouring with rain and there wasn’t any parking at the surgery so I was stressed by the time I rang the doorbell a couple of minutes late. The session was not restful or calming as the osteopath found other problems with my body! I went in with a sore arm. I came out with a sore arm, back and neck!
That evening, after a relaxing bath, I decided to take my blood pressure. I am now on medication and have been told to take a blood pressure reading once a month. I should not have chosen that night! My blood pressure should have been at its lowest but it was way above normal and continued to climb steadily the next day! I do a really good panic! I have an irrational fear of taking my blood pressure! It reaches concerning levels at the doctor’s surgery and this is called ‘white coat syndrome’. I have the same panic buildup at home when I think about taking it myself! I’m not sure what that is called. Neurotic? Irrational? Paranoid? All of these!
Finally common sense prevailed and I took my blood pressure again a few days later and it was normal. But that didn’t help the week to improve. Wednesday I had to take the exercise class at the care home as my friend had visitors. I got up early to go through some of my trusted routines and plan the music. I’m not a natural teacher but don’t want to cancel as I know the residents really enjoy these classes. I usually drive home feeling relieved that the class is over, but also pleased with myself that I had made the effort. But I do find these solo classes stressful!
It has rained for weeks! On Thursday I just managed the dance and step class at the gym as my only source of exercise and spent the afternoon visiting my mother. This was another worrying day and I sent a text to my brother to ask if he could pay a visit. I really needed a bit of support and another perspective on my mother’s regression. Unfortunately he was busy until the end of next week.
So I had to sort myself out. I’m my worst critic and heap blame on myself at the drop of a hat! I over analyse situations and beat myself up whenever life’s curve balls land on my front lawn! It’s always my fault!
I rang my son in Boston on Friday night. I needed to hear the voice of reason. He didn’t fail me! ‘Take time out for yourself, Mum. When last have you done something for you?’ That has always smacked of self indulgence when I hear friends pampering themselves in spas and fancy retreats! He went on to give examples and left me feeling much better and even beginning to buy into the idea.
On Saturday morning I had a long conversation with my daughter who regularly tells me to ‘love myself’. Another wonderful breath of fresh air and she agreed with her brother. I needed to take some time out and do something I enjoy.
So, over the weekend I charged up my laptop that had gathered dust at the back of my dressing table. Oops! Shouldn’t have shared that … and started typing one of my unpublished novels also collecting dust at the top of my cupboard. I was taken back over thirty years when I had spent some time at home and researched the siege of Kimberley. I felt relaxed and contented for the first time in ages. I have seventeen chapters so will try and type a chapter a day. No pressure but spending time on myself. I promise not to feel guilty …👠
Jenny Burrell 