Many times I have been told to pace myself. I try. My chariot was given to me by Occupational therapist to slow me down! Instead of leaping up and charging off then collapsing in a heap as I cannot breathe I was taught to grab the handles and walk slowly. And breathe. Pacing.
I try to apply this pacing to my life. I make sure I allow plenty time to do things, get to somewhere, be ready for visitors and so on. Otherwise anxiety sets in and guess what - I can't breathe.
When my personal carer arrives all my clothes she has to put on me are ready in the right order.
Now we have cleaners every two weeks. From past experience I know cleaners do not tidy stuff they clean. So cleaners are due to arrive at 1.30.p.m. and I make sure all is ready. I tidy everything away so they can just crack on and clean. As they arrive I go down to the Shedudio away from dust and let them get on.
Today they arrived at 12.30 while we were still having lunch. And there were still bits I had not cleared away. The DP closed the kitchen door where we eat lunch but within a short time we can both taste the raised dust and he opens the outside door and the patio door but I start to cough and cannot stop and we are both worried. And I cannot breathe.
The cleaners are here for an hour. I twice explained why they should be here at the later time and they roll their eyes and say they will tell the office but carry on.
I am exhausted and worry I am being a wimp. The cleaners leave. The added annoyance is they have turned the loo roll round and put a triangular pleat in it. I can laugh now!
Never needed the Prom so badly.
Big boat sends little boat to do the shopping?!
The bay is full of surfers of all ages and abilities.
I managed a walk. Leaning on the railings and breathing in the sea air. Pacing myself.
Sorry to offload on you. But just trying to pace myself why oh why am I not allowed to do this by people not listening to what I say.