I think I have been incredibly lazy this last week. I cannot actually gauge whether this is true. I try and recall previous weeks and months since My Myeloma hit and I do not feel like I can compare my laziness to anything I have already experienced.
I feel incredibly lazy.
The problem, I suspect with now, is that my mind is able, but my body cannot get enough sleep. Bar the odd interruption at night, I slept for 12 hours a night over the bank holiday and when I woke up, I didn’t want to do much. My body was saying no. The latest bout of sleep is not accompanied by any sense of illness, and thus, every time I give in to it, I am riddled with guilt. I imagine all the things I could be doing, but when I am in that moment, I just want to carry on relaxing. Last week, I had a whole plan, I was going to achieve so many things, but to be honest with you, I achieved half of it and what I achieved didn’t really involve any socialising, despite how much I wanted to see McKenna. Sure I went to Northampton on Friday, but that meant that Saturday was pretty much non existent.
I find my lack of energy frustrating. The mornings continue to be a struggle and I imagine will remain so, but it creeps up on me whenever it wants now, at least for the past week anyway, aka, my barometer. I know that realistically, I would have experienced something similar before, on many occasions in fact, I just can’t remember them right now and plus, I like fixating over something to do with my health. My current fatigue is quite different to a steroid crash, when I do not feel guilty because I do not have the energy. As for now, when I am not feeling guilty for wasting my ‘healthy’ days, I actually find it quite pleasurable.
Cancer hides a multitude of sins. I wouldn’t have got away with it before.Aren’t you getting dressed today? I can’t, I’ve got cancer. Sleeping until 14:00hrs is not an acceptable lie in. I can’t help it, I’ve got cancer. Emma, change your knickers. I can’t get out of bed to wash my clothes, I have cancer…It can go on.
I imagine that I beat myself up over days that I perceive I am wasting, more than anybody else would. I don’t want to waste them. I even reason with myself that wasting a day means I can have a better day the next. Sometimes that might be true. Sometimes, I just carry on lying in bed like a slug, using up our data allowance.
I am sure people will have their opinions about how I should spend my day. They keep them to themselves, well, at least away from me anyway. If I think about it rationally, I do as much as I can to make my life not just about this. When I put it like that, that is how, if it were possible for me to view my existence from the sky, I have to view it. I want gold stars. I am not always rational though, I will continue to beat myself up.
However, if somebody else apart from me were to question it, my existence, and question me and my bed times, I’d probably punch them in the face. Not metaphorically. I’d actually punch them, if not me, EMan would. My theory on a lot of this is, have myeloma, at the age of 28 and then talk down to me about how to manage it with less time in bed, until then, my opinion rules.
There are always exceptions to my rules however, and on this specific subject, I found one last weekend. She is called Lara. She is six.
So, on Saturday, I was embracing my bed at Mamma Jones’ house and this little skinny thing found herself in my room at sometime after midday and said;
” Get up lazy bones.”
“Emma, you are a lazy bum.”
“Your room smells like farts. Farts and poo.”
“Are you still in bed because of cancer?”
And if that was not enough, she insisted on taking a photograph. I let her because she is six and it would be wrong to punch her in the face. I guess I love her too, but still…
The photo she took was a good reminder. There really are days when I just cannot get up, and for now, it has to be okay. Not for you, for me.