I know what you’re thinking, Nic, we get it, you’re not a morning person, but one of the main reasons I don’t like mornings is because I never know what I’m going to wake up to, both on a cerebral palsy level and on a mental health-y kind of level.
Thanks to my CP, there’s not a day that goes by where something doesn’t hurt or ache, and for the most part it’s fine and I can deal with it. Lately though my bad CP days have been getting more and more frequent, and happening for more consecutive days.
Just lately I’ve been having a lot of problems with the bottom of my back and my neck to the point where I haven’t really felt like doing much during the day, and it’s been keeping me up at night. Needless to say that means I have no idea just how bad something will be when I wake up.
I’m writing this post late at night. It’s 23:28 on Tuesday evening and I’d do all my writing at this time of day (night, whatever) if I could.
I’ve turned off the big light and my lamp is giving me just enough light to see my keyboard. There’s soft music playing in my headphones and I’m nice and warm and in those early stages of tiredness where you’re starting to wind down but are still alert enough to do stuff.
I don’t think I’ve ever liked mornings. I never quite know how stiff or achy I’m going to be when I wake up, or how long it’s going to take me to be able to do things.
When I woke up this morning I was a zombie, there really is no other way to describe it other than that. My legs and back had decided that last night they were going to Tag Team against me and ache so much that they would keep me awake most of the night. Next time they plan on doing this, I hope they tell me so I can have an afternoon nap first. Despite their best efforts I think I managed t catch somewhere between three to four hours of Zs which is not so great –especially when one of those blissful hours was between 7:30 and 8:30 this morning. I’d have loved at least another half an hour but I have lots to do today so I didn’t really have a choice but it suck it up and get on with it. All I can say is, thank goodness I have a walk-in shower.
For a long time, showering was something that my mum had to help me with because we didn’t get the wet-room installed until I was around 17 or 18. From the age of around 15 I had other things that would help me to get washed by myself including a swivel bather and a bath board, but before that mum had to lift me in and out of our bath shower, and stay there with me to make sure I did slip. This did happen a couple of times though, given that my balance is less than good, especially on a bad day, and it also meant that my daily wash was done whenever mum could fit it in around all the other household chores. Now I can do it whenever I like, which is something I will never take for granted. It takes some pressure off my mother too. I’m grateful that she used to help me all the time (she still does wih some things) but I’m sure this is one thing she’s quite happy about not having to do anymore.
Thanks to the wet room I can just stroll in (quite literally) whenever I like, plonk myself down on the seat and stay there until my aches and pains have gone away, or until I feel human enough to bother facing the day. It works too. My legs aren’t as bad as they were first thing today, I’m half-awake and I’m sitting here writing this post. Not bad, eh?
Like most things in life, getting the wet room installed was a trade off. It meant that we had to get our bath taken out which was really useful on the days that I was stiff and the shower doesn’t work quite so well for that, but at least I have my independence. There is the odd day that it decides to get blocked and flood, but the bathroom is designed to handle the water. It just means we have to do the mopping up afterwards.