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An Entry From My Diary 19.12.07

Sometimes I wonder what the point is.

Yesterday, I woke up with pain in my hips again. Granted, I'm used to it being bad on some days, but this was ridiculous!

It felt like I was being repeatedly stabbed in the lower part of my body, and someone twisting my legs round at the same time. It was so awful that I could barely breathe.

Looking over at the clock, I could hardly focus on the illuminated numbers. Eventually I could see it was twenty to four. I lay there in the dark trying to shift into a comfortable position.

Even that wasn't going to happen, so I tried a breathing exercise that I was taught when I was in hospital recovering from my surgery. It is supposed to manage pain. It didn't work.

I didn't want to wake Colin. I have been criticized for that in the past, it wouldn't be fair of me to wake him. So I lay there, in one position, until the alarm went off at half past five. I can honestly say I have never been so relieved to hear it in my whole life! I just wanted to move.

My wonderful husband helped me turn over onto my tummy, and it was bliss.
By the time he left for work at quarter to seven, the pain was easing and I was able to drink a cup of tea. I'm a tea addict I admit, but, feeling that liquid slip its way down my throat was so amazing. My mouth was like sandpaper!

Before I went back to sleep I thought, please let the pain be gone by tonight'. It was my Writers' Circle Christmas party, and I didn't want to miss it.

Closing my eyes, I slept fitfully until just after midday, when the phone woke me up. It was Colin calling from work to see how I was. As a pain shot down my back, I forced myself to sound upbeat and told him I was fine.

The afternoon passed slowly, but at least I could get out of bed. I crawled around the bedroom floor - walking was out of the question for now, and I tried to find something decent to wear to the party.

No go.

Suddenly, as I knelt up to open the wardrobe door, another pain gnawed at my hip. I had to give up. Slowly, I turned over, and curling myself into a ball, I cried.

I cried for what seemed like hours and hours. It's just not fair. I didn't ask for this. I'm twenty six years old, and I'm stuck in a body that won't do what I tell it to. My friends are vibrant, energetic, party goers, and here I am, stuffed. Again!

I really do try not to think why me?'

I try not to dream about what my life would be like if I didn't have Cerebral Palsy, because thinking like that serves no purpose. I have to get up

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