I've been very thrown by last week's autonomic dsyreflexia episode. I've been completely exhausted, far more so than normal. I've been feeling emotional and wobbly. This is not my usual style. It's made me think a lot about how I (don't) treat myself. I don't accept that I'm disabled. God, I hate even writing the word. But I am. And I need to treat myself more gently. I need to allow myself down time every now and then. I need to listen to my body.
I've also been thinking about support. On Friday, the friend I was with in the cinema offered to take me to hospital. He asked if I needed help getting home. I refused both. Why? Going to hospital wasn't necessary. But getting help to go home was. I was a fool to have driven back alone. If my blood pressure had gone up again, my vision might have failed and I could have crashed. Yes, I was concerned about what we would have done about cars: if he'd driven me, how would he have got back to his house? But we could have worked that one out.
I'm great at asking for help most of the time. I ask complete strangers to grab my chair out of the boot of the car. I ask people to help me over high kerbs. When people offer to help push me up steep hills, I usually accept. So why did I refuse help that Friday, when I really needed it? Was it because I was pretending I'm not disabled? Because I thought it would be quicker to drive home myself? Because I didn't realise how serious the dsyreflexia was? Because I wanted to remain in control and couldn't accept that I was actually not in control at all?
I don't know the answer to any of these questions. I need to think more. The first step on the path to change is to become more aware. But I need to get some understanding quickly. When there's another emergency, I need to be able to accept help rather than automatically refusing it. As smiley Miley says, it's going to be an uphill battle, but I'm going to rise to the challenge. I'm going to make some changes.
