I'm approaching a year on from when I had my brain haemorrhage and it's amazing how far I've come for which im so thankful but also how achingly frustrating progress can be sometimes. Brain injuries are curious things;being the wonderfully unique creature we are every brain injury will manifest slightly differently, there's no well trodden path of symptoms that are easily explained or treated.
In my world it often feels like I have gained a mysterious passenger whom delights in chucking out heightened responses, sensations or pain often when I least expect them. This list is not exclusive to brain injury I know, everybody says the wrong thing from time to time, misplaces a word, forgets their keys, gets headaches , the oddity of this new experience is that when something has kicked off in your head like it has in mine that my every sense feels very exaggerated. Its like I've bigged up all my sensory and emotional receptors. "I'd like some grief please?" , "certainly, would you like to go large with that?" "why yes". Actually , no I wouldn't but it appears I have no choice in my new state.
Pain can shoot up quickly and inexplicably and then can leave just as quickly but leaving behind a creeping exhaustion like you've just worked 16 hours straight even though it's only an hour since our hauled your arse out of bed.
Before my brain pop could have sat through ET, Lassie, Chalottes Web, Terms of Endearment and not shed a tear, some of you may say thats not a good thing. Now however you only have to waft a baby near me and I sniffle, shown a sad story on the news triggers full blown tears and a simple argument over tidying the kids bedroom apparently can end in tears as quickly as you can say " because I say so that's why!".
I am gradually getting to know these new modifications to my brain upgrade, I'm learning the signs , triggers and trying to limit the effect they can have on my everyday living. Not all the time though and this week saw me having brain and body scans to check that James and the gerbils were in ship shape condition as odd symptoms completely and quickly knocked me off kilter. Its all tickety boo though which is great but there's an element of Fluidity and surprise that is keeping me on my toes.
In my quest to recover I have been introduced to 'pacing' and it's beyond BORING. Yes, I know it makes logical sense to keep a steady pattern of activity , not too much rest but not too much excitement , you get the picture, but YAWN! it's hard to be this boring. Forced inactivity is such a strange beast, I even find myself rebelling against it which pretty much defeats the whole point of the exercise. I'll be sitting down having a quiet period and then find myself leaping up off the sofa and shoving a load of washing in just to be doing something! I mean I bloody hate washing,I never rushed to do it previously but the lure of doing something , anything is just irristable somedays and then I pay the price of rushing. Hey ho, progress is painful I suppose and I've come a long way in a short time, I have faith I'll get there, maybe wearing sunglasses and earplugs but I'll get there.