Sundays blues

I do not know what you normal person’s do on your Sunday but here an brief description of my usual Sunday. Wake up at six am pain running through my body soaked with sweat where the pain had gripped me in my sleep to the point it wakes me up this time.

I roll over to my bed side cabinet praying i remembered to put pain killers there and they not empty. Yes there their at last I know can get a light relief from the pain. I call out for help waking my son knowing how unfair it is but what choice have I I know without his help I am trapped there and helpless. Image forty five and helpless. It only seems like yesterday I was backpacking across the alp or watching the sun rise in different desserts and now I cant even get out of bed on my own each day.

It seems so unfair that after all I done in my life i am now sentenced to this. Watching my own body be my prison and wither and fade on me. Trapping who i am inside. Each day I wonder how much more I will lose will my hands arms even neck join the fight against me will I eventually be only a brain in a shell.

My son get my outfit ready then help me till i am washed and dressed then theirs the dreaded stairs to face. It was only yesterday that I laid at the bottom of them unconscious for three hours. I decided to take them alone and as no one was here to watch me the worse decided to happen. How can I have anyone here the system took away the way I got support and as yet its still to return.

i look at the scars on my hands from other accidents over the last year all this because of that person who for a job lied and left me and those I care about to suffer. I know I should not but I so wish one day that person is the same as me and get treated as she treats us.

Slowly he guides me down stair watches my every jerky movement ready to step in like he was watching a child take his first step[ fifteen minutes to walk down one flight of stairs. Perspiration running down my face every step like fire running through my body.  Its times like this I am thankful for my wheel chair so at least in that I am safe and pain is bearable.

Some look at a wheel chair and see disability and hard ship  to be honest when i look at one I see hope and freedom. My wheel chair is not an adversity it is a godsend and frees me from this curse of these four walls.

Today sons at work and I am alone apart from my pups my drinks on the table and the remote and my keyboard accessible. I know apart from these words on this screen I am alone and the world moves on and i am trapped in this prison. My chair sat there unable to move it to leave the house so here i must stay till some kind soul grants me the freedom to go out side and feel the wind and air.

When your out shopping having dinner out with friends down the pub think of us few who what you take as daily tasks to us they are a luxury and you daily takes to us are a gift that we some days will only dream off.

Now I will go watch the cloak and write my new story and let the day fade away hoping tomorrow that I will once more get to face the world. Maybe it will happen maybe it wont but then I know in a few weeks my daily work begins again and I know each morning the freedom and pleasure of work will be here again.

Work to me isn’t work its freedom and feeling normal now the money means nothing but the feeling of being useful and needed that is what work is and I thank those who give me that chance with my every waking breath.

Thous of you who hate work just think what it would be like if you were like me and the others like me and then think of what it would mean without your work. Then ask your self if your work really that bad.

Have agood day and hopefully the next blog will be more of a merrier note.

 

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