And yesterday I was gifted with a little extra stamina and, I also felt capable of correctly pacing my utilisation of this resource. Took advantage of this little power surge to top-up and refill the sundry avian feeding stations in our garden; meal worms, sunflower hearts, black sunflower seeds, suet treats etc. most of which swiftly attracted a miscellany of birds ranging from starlings, blackbirds, finches, blue, coal and great tits, collared doves and the odd wood pigeon were all ready for some superior dining experience. I swiftly realised that all the birds’ watering stations needed de-icing so heated up some water.
Already my halo was shining and, I felt totally in control of my physical stamina resource. Mid-afternoon was time to sort out the main aquarium, changing 30 litres (out of the tanks 180litres) and changing nitrate removal filter and a couple of others. Proud of my achievement I relaxed a little before par-boiling a few potatoes, ready for roasting alongside the already simmering casserole which I’d prepared on Sunday.
That’s when the tiredness hit but, fortunately, not uncomfortably so. Come bedtime, I started to feel that I was being punished for the day’s moderate exertions. Perhaps I’m not handling my pacing all that well. Tenderness of the glands under my chin and in the armpits seemed to be sufficiently calmed by a fairly light dose of painkillers but, obviously I’d been deceived again!
Having joined my beloved au lit, decided to watch a diverting little sitcom on TV before snuggling down. Within about ten minutes of attempting to settle down, the peripatetic clog dancers decided my lower limbs were an ideal place to practice. The duvet felt as if it was scrubbing the skin off my toes as a nausea inducing bruised aching feeling ambled from calf to thigh and back again. Whatever angle I positioned my legs bent or straight, stretched over the end of the bed, hung out over the bed side, the disconcerting ache continued. At one stage I half fell from the bed, my right calf resting on the rug whilst my left lower limb remained in bed, a real groin stretching experience. I can assure you that this posture wasn’t the result of any voluntary action.
Next thing, the old familiar nauseating aches in both arms began to do their darnedest; applying wrist support splints initially seemed to make little difference. I found myself unwittingly whispering, and occasionally screaming, profanities against the Gethsemane night, alongside whimpering like a lonely puppy. Many hours later I started to enjoy a little post-dawn sleep.
Reluctantly, I emerged from the duvet lair, and returned morning greetings to the bright shiny sun!