So... I've not been feeling great the last few weeks. Overdid it Christmas and New Year and now paying the price. A few disturbed nights with a sore leg has meant that the fatigue has been nigh on crippling. You know when you start a sentence and then for the life of you, you have no idea what you were going to say. And you walk about thinking "What on earth am I supposed to be doing?" Mind you, that does sound like my mum on an average day, so maybe it's age rather than my neurological condition.
Anyway, things came to a head yesterday when my right Latissimus dorsi went into spasm. (It's that big muscle under your shoulder blade and I only know the Latin name because I bought The Husband a huge mug with a rather fetching design of the human skeleton and muscles. Thought it might help him when he was studying for his coaching science degree.) It was pure agony. The nearest I can compare it to is having contractions during labour. Which will mean nothing if you haven't had the trauma of squeezing a baby out of a very small tunnel. I may have screamed. Anyway, The Husband was marvellous, despatching the boys to our dear friend Audrey (where would I be without you? xx) for the day and he took me to see my lovely GP who prescribed diazepam and rest. I haven't slept so much since I was a student.
This is the 3rd time I've had these spasms and I'm not sure if it's MS or some sort of anxiety attack that brings it on. Whatever the reason, I was so grateful to be zonked out and spent virtually the whole day asleep. The boys have now been packed off to Grandmas for a couple of days whilst their mother feels like a stoned hippy. I have a strong urge to listen to the Mammas and Pappas.
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