How A Spoonie Gets Up

11147212_434661816713940_6938520122774742257_nEver wondered what mornings are like for spoonies? Well, here’s a little of it. Most people get to wake up, curse the alarm, and then get up.

Not me!

Off goes my FitBit, vibrating in a way that slightly irritates me wrist. Nice start! But that’s nothing compared with what follows:

My first thought is: what hurts? How do I need to move to sit up with least pain? How many individual mini motions do I need to effectively sit up? Imagine this kind of like a car having to do three point turns. There are more than three points! Most days I need to negotiate with myself, deciding whether to suffer more pain in my arms from hoisting myself, or to jerk my hips and legs more my shuffling upright. Nice start to a day, right?
Then I need to pee. Which is a pain, because there’s a very good chance that my legs haven’t reported for duty yet. But, having an irritable waterworks system means I really need to get all that juice out,  or risk inviting an infection. Not cool.
So, I’ve peed. Now I’m really regretting those initial spoons splurged on getting to the loo so quickly. But there’s not much choice. I need to hobble back to the bed and take my pills. By now, all the pain is going to have registered. Today? I couldn’t actually get out of bed, my hips and legs and were not playing ball. Nothing for it today but to leave my breakfast (which my brother brought in) on the side untouched and wait until I can actually sit up again. It’s over two hours since I woke up and I’ve only managed on bite of my toast and vegan chocolate spread–and this is chocolate we’re talking about.
By now, I know I’m going to have to just get up, and drag my ass upstairs to my (thankfully comfortable) desk. I can’t work easily from my laptop in bed, so if I am to get anything done in a day (writing, writing, writing), I need to get up to my desk. It’s a pain in the ass. It sucks. It’s punishing and hard and I hate it. But, I need to get up to the desk, and that’s that.
I have a really great set-up at my enormous desk. I have a huge-ass chair that’s padded and comfortable, and two pillows tied to a little table under my desk to elevate my legs. So as far as that goes, I’m comfortable at the desk. That’s one little piece of nice.
I fast-forwarded past the part where I actually manage to get up the stairs, didn’t I? Between bambi-legs and the unfortunate (but amazing fact) that my brother and I share fairly large three storey house, getting up the stairs is hard. It’s painful and tiring and takes a lot of concentration so I don’t just topple to one side, or trip on unsteady legs.
Safe to say by this point, that my pills haven’t had an effect. They don’t really work for the pain and that’s not the best thing. Obviously. Wake up, take pills, expect some relief…? Oh, wait. No, sorry, no relief for you this morning. Off you go, Leo; toddle on your way with no pain relief whatsoever.
Well, fine then, asshole.
Now it’s almost twelve and my day has definitely started later than I’d have liked. But, you get used to this. Some days I manage to get to my desk far quicker than others. Mostly, I spend my early mornings reading or listening to an audiobook. I’m especially looking forwards to having arranged the reading nook in the study so I can more easily curl up and read, but don’t risk falling back asleep if I need to stay resting for a while, like can happen if I need to stay in bed. But, last night, I got about two hours sleep, all restless and crappy, so it’s no surprise that this morning was harder. And I hurt more than usual.
Still, I’m at the desk, I’ve got my blanket and my green tea and my mood lamp is set to purple. I’m going to finish this, do my Japanese study, and then I’m going to carry on working on my book. I won’t want lunch for hours yet, because I’m so sicky and weak this morning. But it’s fine. I had casual raid night tonight with friends on FFXIV, and I need to make sure I’m OK for that. Yep, I need to plan my spoons and energy in advance for something I’m doing at 8pm tonight. It sucks and it’s frustrating, but thinking about the tasks and events of the day is just another thing I need to do in a morning.

I saw a fellow spoonie posting a chart of what her mornings entail, so it seems this is pretty standard for our level of spoonie. It’s not even really something I think about any more. Sure, I say it sucks, but really, it simply is. It’s not something I think about negatively. My morning routine, the three-point shuffle (and the rest, most days) of sitting up and trying to figure out how I am and what’s going on with my body, the literal dragging myself to breakfast or to my desk. The knowledge that today will probably be (yet another) PJ day. It’s all just The Way Things Are, and any thought or energy wasted thinking how much it sucks, is just that – a waste of time. So I don’t entertain thoughts like that. No point!

So to summarise, my morning looks something like this:
  • Wake up
  • Register pain
  • Figure out how to sit up (this involves trying to do damage control with what hurts most/least)
  • Manage to get out of bed
  • Hurry to loo before pain fully kicks in
  • Drag self back
  • Take pills
  • Oh, gods
  • Ouch
  • Ouch
  • Communicate with stomach
  • Relay stomach info to brother for breakfast if it differs from info given last night re: breakfast plans
  • Rest some more before breakfast
  • Try not to fall asleep and risk brain fog
  • (Inevitably do)
  • Have breakfast:
  • – if having in bed, do the three-point-shuffle again
  • – if having elsewhere, do the three-point-shuffle, get legs out of bed, stand, walk to table in the gaming room (let’s not even go there with steps down to the living room if breakfast is there, eh?)
  • Rest with book for an hour and hope I don’t get brain fog
  • Go to desk

This isn’t taking into account anything like actually getting dressed or whatever else. It’s a whole other story when that’s the case.

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2 thoughts on “How A Spoonie Gets Up

  1. Great description, love the little bits of dark humor. I can identify with this, mornings are The WORST! Once I get moving, it gets better but that whole getting out of bed and taking a few steps thing… Argh! I feel like I’m 90 years old!!!

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