It’s the Monday after a whirlwind travel weekend, and I’m exhausted and in a truckload of pain. As I pulled myself out of bed this morning, I thought ‘why in the name of all that is good would I schedule two appointments today?’
The first appointment was physical therapy, and the second psychotherapy. Both in the afternoon. The extra free time in the morning didn’t help one bit. I was below empty—that feeling that nothing’s in the reserve tank. Also, the pleuritic chest pain was there, a familiar indication and warning that I need to stop and rest. But, I couldn’t.
By the time I reached physical therapy, I was nearly in tears, just an emotional wreck. How could I continue to feel this bad? All I did was visit my in-laws for the weekend, for crying out loud.
I knew I shouldn’t have gone, but I hate being at home alone and I hate not being by my husband’s side at family functions. It’s where I belong. But, the excitement of traveling and then visiting usually takes a huge toll on me. Leaving me where I am today—in pain and on the verge of tears.
The minute she walked in, my physical therapist knew that I wasn’t doing well. She proceeded to see if my hips and pelvis were aligned. Of course, they weren’t. Sitting in the car for all those hours saw to that. Even though her adjustments and massaging of my knotted up muscles was gentle, I felt extreme pain throughout the 30-minute session. All I could think about was getting heat at the end of the session.
But, I couldn’t stay with the heat as long as I normally do because I had to get to my second appointment of the day, my biweekly psychotherapy session with Dr. O.
Once I arrived there, I let the tears flow like the opening of flood gates. I couldn’t help it. It’s really the first time I cried since learning of the Lyme disease co-infections. I’ve been putting up this brave front for my husband and family, but with the fatigue and the pain, I can’t keep my guard up for very long.
There’s no safer place to get out all the sadness, the anger, and the fear than at Dr. O’s office. I immediately felt relief from that release and from her gentle reminders of avoiding “black and white” (extreme) thinking and allowing my husband to love me and help me.
Well, I guess it turned out that I was smart to schedule these appointments today. They were really what I needed considering the physical and emotional state I was in.
I’ve been in bed since returning home. As I write this, dear Hubby is cooking dinner for us. We’ll eat with bed trays in the bedroom and watch television.
Accepting his help is not easy sometimes, but I do love him for loving me.