New school year, new challenges

I used to like inset days - a good way to get your head in gear for the term ahead. But this year, the two days just gone were about surviving, and for that I lay on the floor at the back of the hall (thank you yoga mat), stood up in the middle of a meeting because I couldn’t sit any more, and hid in my office, stretched out on the sofa, heat pad on full blast, just trying to conserve enough spoons to make it through the day. “Come on body, pull yourself together,” I say (haha, jokes... silly lax collagen). Actually, of course, I don’t give always give it a chance - going to the staff meal yesterday evening, for example, was not my best idea - but our school is such a lovely community that I’m so loathe to miss out on those fun bits, even if having fun isn’t always fun afterwards!

I made it, though. I went to every meeting I was supposed to. Yes, I had to sacrifice lunch on day 2 because I was too exhausted and it had been such a mistake on day 1. Yes, I didn’t take in every word because sitting = pain. But I made it. I can’t promise I will do that for every inset - I nearly failed on this one as my gut has been playing silly beggars, but it perked up in the end after a stern talking to (and meds, and very VERY careful food intake). I could have done it better, though...

Firstly, my shiny new scooter sat unused on both days, as I was too worried about fitting it all together right. Secondly, I still haven’t plucked up the courage to use the stair lift up to the dining hall. Both of those aids would have helped, I do know that. So today has been all about putting the scooter together and taking it apart again. And again. And again... oh, and coming to terms with it being the Right Thing To Have. She has been test driven with two boys in tow, glammed up with a silly flower basket, and - naturally - given a name. I present Ivy. I would like to think that everyone at school takes to her as well as the boys have, but I fear that is expecting too much.

I am trying not to think of the fact that, 2 years ago today, I welcomed my second year of choristers into the boarding house. I had absolutely no idea what was about to come crashing down around me, no idea that they would be my last newbies or that I would never run a stayover like that again. The only person grieving for that old life is me, but I can notice that it is less raw, more distant, more manageable than before, and that must be a good sign. Our new home is quite the tonic, escaping to our little oasis of calm after the hubbub of school, and, as we settle in, I can appreciate that a true positive has come out of all this. My darling other half is working to finish my study almost every evening and weekend, and then I really will have a little haven of my very own.

So. This year I WILL make the rest of my job work successfully and effectively around my EDS, hopefully with some specialist physio rehab input, and can start to put the worry and sadness of these past few years behind me. Yes, there will be setbacks - at the moment it revolves around hormones and an unhappy gut, next month it will be something else (my jaw and my wrist are currently vying for attention), and my hips will always be my prime limiting factor. I just need to roll with the punches! And after that, maybe, just maybe, I’ll even manage to be a useful member of our little household by cooking, or washing up, or doing the laundry more than once in a blue moon. A girl can dream!