I thought I knew all about pacing: 2 hours work, 2 hours rest, spacing necessary jobs over the week, taking my meds, not asking too much of myself etc. etc.
Just over a week ago I walked, slowly, carefully, up the slight incline from the beach to the house. Suddenly, halfway there I had so much pain in my hips, back and legs that I did not think I'd make it to the back door. My heart was racing and I was falling forward as I moved then the fibro fog descended.
I did make it, just, and had my heart checked by my GP that afternoon. This was a wake up call.
Since then I have been either in bed or in my chair watching the Olympics and reading. I have moved very slowly, my dear husband has done all the cooking and washing up and I am lucky to have two lovely people come and clean the house once a week, courtesy of my younger daughter, bless her.
I won't pretend that I'm back to where I was before, but I am a whole lot better. The most amazing thing has been the reduction of pain, which I did not expect. The experience has made me realise how important it is to stay within my limits, accept that I can't cut the hedges or even do much weeding of my pots; perhaps not be able to grow anything at all. That's heartbreaking; I love growing things.
I know I am fortunate to be able to take this length of time to recover, that many of you have jobs, children and responsibilities that in retirement I do not.
I believe that it's crucial to take whatever time we can to assist recovery, though, to prioritise our health at all costs. I hope I have learned this lesson at last!
Take care of yourselves, everyone.