Saturday, 8 September 2012

One Prediction Comes True.

Not a terribly long-ranged or extraordinary prescription: I did need, and did have, a quiet day today.

One train did get running, with a reassuring click of wheels,
a few weeds died.

But not much else.  Too much muscle ache, too much muscle weakness.
Even more need for stillness and rest.
It's an odd game: aching and feeling tired, waning to rest comes easily,
But actually getting free of necessary activities, and getting still and relaxed and staying in that state are not trivial tasks.

A phone call, the need for a trip to the bathroom, the brain starting to think rather than to quieten... all get in the way of getting *really* still and inactive and relaxed.

Yes, there are worse and far harder levels of inactivity:
In a dugout under shell-fire, with nothing to do but wait.
And, proverbially,
"To stand an' be still to the Birkenhead drill is a damn tough bullet to chew."
So let's not exaggerate the toughness of lying on a comfy bed.
But when one wants to be doing: fixing things, contacting people, pursuing hobbies and interests...'s fair to say it doesn't always come instinctively or easily.
A strange enemy makes for strange battles.
That's Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, right enough.

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