[On post-exertional malaise] "I don't feel the sickness yet, but it's in the post. That's for sure. I'm in the [ME/CFS] limbo at the moment. Too ill to sleep. Too tired to stay awake, but the sickness is on its way. Sweat, chills, nausea. Pain and craving. An [illness] like nothing else I've ever known will soon take hold of me. It's on its way."If you guessed the movie is Trainspotting, you're correct. Now, I'm not comparing ME/CFS to drug addiction. But certain themes in the movie resonated with me. The way I find myself pining for, scheming for, and almost obsessing about returning to health is echoed in the single-minded behavior of Trainspotting's addicts.
"Thank you. With God's help I'll conquer this terrible affliction."
[On crashing]. "Preparation. For this you will need one room which you will not leave. Soothing music. Tomato soup, ten tins of. Mushroom soup, eight tins of, for consumption cold. Ice cream, vanilla, one large tub of. Magnesia, milk of, one bottle. Paracetamol, mouthwash, vitamins. Mineral water, Lucozade. One mattress. One television and one bottle of [Tylenol]..."
When you've been healthy for most of your life and, suddenly, in one day, your health slips away without any warning, you will do almost anything to get it back. I never imagined that I would be lugging around a lunch pail full of supplements, reading book after book on a single subject, visiting doctors by the dozen, and using much of my free time to search the internet for clues to what's going on. Yet here I am.
I've come to the conclusion that being healthy is really the ultimate high that life has to offer. If/when I get healthy again, I'm making a promise to myself to never take a healthy day for granted. In the meantime, I'm making another promise to myself to not take the better days (the non-crash days) for granted. When I get out of this crash, I'm going to enjoy every minute of not being crashed.