The Joy of Clean Sheets
Last week was tough. Thirty-two weeks pregnant, teaching full time, and dealing with the challenge of fibromyalgia…I am having a good day if I have energy left to make a healthy meal when I get home from work. Basic household chores feel like they are part of the mythical tasks assigned to Hercules. My husband helps out a lot, but he came down with a bad cold and things just went undone. Not only were the dishes piling up, and the laundry staring at me from the hamper, but the dust bunnies started to hold rallies in the corners. Mess stresses me and makes me anxious, so the state of the house was uncomfortable. Each day I looked at the things that needed doing and tried to do a bit, but my efforts only slowed the downward spiral. They were not significant enough to reverse the mess.
The weekend finally arrived, but it brought no relief. Due to failing my one hour glucose test I had to show up for the three hour version. (Ugggg!) Repeated blood draws aggravate my Fibromyalgia, so I knew that the procedure would not only take up the morning, but it would also knock me down for the rest of the day. I made it through Saturday, and on Sunday I felt well enough to go to church. We arrived late, so I had the brilliant (idiotic) idea that we should sit in the balcony because we could slip in unnoticed. The trip up and down the stairs led to an inability to catch my breath, which resulted in a trip to the emergency room. (Boo.) No more stairs for me till baby comes. Once home from the hospital, I spent the rest of the day resting…On sheets that hadn’t been washed in way too long… but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it except let it go.
Monday I got up and dragged myself to work. When I got home, my husband and I stripped the bed, washed the sheets, and that night we had clean, wonderful sheets. The dishes still needed doing, the dog hair still sat in the corner, but the small miracle of clean sheets felt so good. When I got home from work on Tuesday I walked into the kitchen to find that my amazing mother-in-law had washed the mountain of dirty dishes. (God bless her!)
Sometimes life is like that. It doesn’t stop coming at you, and the only choices are to let it go or let it destroy you. I have to accept that I won’t always be able to do the things that need doing. When I am feeling excessively tired and achy, doing more makes me worse, and risks making me need to take a sick day from work. I have to prioritize things like house work, putting responsibilities such as pet care at the top and chores like sweeping and vacuuming farther down the list.
I am feeling better this week, but that brings its own danger. When I get a bit of energy I want to do everything at once. I have to remind myself to rest before I feel tired. If I stop while still energetic and excited then I have a better chance of avoiding a symptom flare. I hate stopping. It feels wasteful and lazy, but years of experience reminds me that stopping before exhaustion is an investment in tomorrow. Unfortunately that doesn’t make it any easier.
My personal goal is to live life as fully and fearlessly as possible, but to do this I must be wise. I must be kind to my body, while still pushing my boundaries and refusing to limit myself based on my perceived abilities. When I fall short or my goals, when my house is a mess, and my body hurts, and my emotions take a nose-dive, I remember that it is ok to accept help, and I will feel better soon. Life is lived in the highs and the lows. We pursue the high points but it is in the low points that we learn who we can depend on and how to appreciate the small things, like the joy of clean sheets.
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