The strange case of disassociated leg syndrome occurred the night before last. No matter which way I turned in bed, to try and catch some sleep, the lower limbs determined on another course of action. Whilst lying on my back, the legs rebelled with signs of agonizing discomfort. Being an obedient slave to my body, I altered both my position and that of my legs; it almost seemed as if the troublesome limbs notified me of their desired posture, yet within moments of each subtle shift they rebelled again.
After a good 90 minutes of such discomforting rebellion, I decided to let them have their own way, making no conscious decision to alter their transiently current dis-ease. Within a further 30 to 60 minutes, the rebellion ceased; my mind, however, remained alert to the possibility of further rebellion for a considerable time.
By last night, my more familiar pattern of fitful sleep had returned; restless, I may have been but, the unruly limbs no longer dictated my nocturnal posture. By 9.30am today, I faced the world in a confident semi-refreshed manner and, by early afternoon felt sufficiently energized to do a bit of pottering about in the garden, transplanting a container grown Hebe into one of the borders, re-planting the container, potting up a few tomato plants and, a little general tidying up. As soon as fatigue began to set in, with a little prompting from my beloved, I had the wisdom to move back into the house for a rest.
A couple of hours of such activity seems like a quite remarkable achievement, when I recognize that, just a couple of years ago, even half-an-hour at this modest work rate would have really knocked me out. I am extremely hopeful that, having heeded my beloved’s prompting, I will have avoided any post-exertional malaise. I just have so much to be thankful for.