Wednesday 11 December 2013

A Short Account of My Experience of M.E.

At 41 I was as fit as a flea, with three teenage children (and a grandson), three dogs and two cats, as well as a husband.  I went running every day and had a daily exercise routine too. Nothing was too much trouble. I also helped out at my church and was about to start an exercise class there.

Then came this illness. Suddenly I could do very little. I tried, time and again, but it was no use. Within a year my already failing marriage ended. I got the chance to move out and did, knowing that my illness would not be tolerated at home it was all I could do. I took some part time work as part of an income support scheme, and spent every weekend in bed to recover from 21 hours a week of clerical work.

Then I had an emergency hysterectomy, with no counselling whatsoever, which nearly finished me off both physically and emotionally. After a time, to avoid being forced into work I wouldn’t be able to do, and having no legitimate excuse for not working, as ME was even less recognised back then than it is now, I went back to school. I did some night school, then college, and won a place at University.  It was very hard, even getting there and back was such a struggle. In my first year I dislocated my knee and broke my ankle, which meant more surgery, so took the rest of that year off and started again the following year.

I won’t go into all the nightmare events that happened in my life during the next three years, but I was just about coping by doing nothing more than the set work, and finding it more and more exhausting even though I had moved to live very close, about 500m away, to make it easier. I got my degree but lost my then partner. I was then 51.

Since then I have done virtually nothing, or nothing that most people would recognise as living. I did start a post graduate course but was too ill by then to keep it up. I had further surgery two years ago for a low grade malignant Phyllodes Tumour. Now I am approaching 70 and becoming ever more feeble, exhausted, and in pain. My memory deserts me at times and the coming Christmas celebration is just too much to contemplate. If I don’t pick up a bit I will have to cancel it, again.

I sometimes wonder where it will all end. I have a cat, who is a blessing but costs in terms of energy, eleven grandchildren whom I rarely see, and now 2, going on 4, great grandchildren whom I don’t imagine I will ever see. My children all live too far away and have lives which prevent them visiting. Sometimes the loneliness is hard emotionally, and certainly getting through the days is, physically.

If I was suddenly healed of this tomorrow, at my age there is no way I will ever again be the person I was at 40. I have lost nearly 30 years of any meaningful life, merely existing as I do, virtually housebound, only going out for vital appointments. I try to stay cheerful but it’s not always easy. I get depressed at times, and over emotional at others. I’m sure the short days of winter aren’t helping and the approach of Christmas is always hard, with its focus on family and jollity, neither of which are part of my life, and haven’t been for years.

So this is it. A potted account of my illness. Or at least, the one that has taken away so much.

No comments:

Post a Comment