I missed posting on Wednesday. I thought of “catching up” on Thursday, but then I knew today would come, and decided to talk about the minor changes that are effective, before the pendulum of feeling better kicks in.
What am I talking about: “the pendulum of feeling better?” Have you ever noticed that when you are feeling ill, but you begin to feel a tiny bit better you overdo everything you could not do while ill? It is as if you have an IV of the best espresso, and happy, energized, you want to do all the things. Then the juice runs out, but you are already committed: you keep pushing through until you collapse, feeling worse than before. That is the pendulum. I succumbed to it on Wednesday.
I have an issue with Spring. I used to call it my “spring cold,” because it would hit like clockwork, every year as soon as the snowpack melted away, buds began to show on the trees, and I knew that shortly thereafter I would feel terrible. Irritable, sneezing with a dry cough, itchy eyes, stuffed, runny nose, sore throat – this was my life come spring, but in my school days it had the decency to start around or after Easter, and begin to clear up by the beginning of June.
One year during the school break in spring, we took a trip with another family down to Virginia. We were visiting Historic Williamsburg and Jamestown, and simply enjoying time with friends. I was the oldest of “the kids,” and I remember that a couple of times our parents actually trusted the six of us kids to take care of ourselves for an evening so they could go out together. By this point I had been regularly watching my own sisters at home when my parents went out to choir, a responsibility that sometimes included Sheila-specific first-aid care, which I had proven I could handle without qualm. So with myself and the two eldest girls from the other family “in charge” of the three youngest, everything worked out well, from what I remember, at least!
The interesting part of the trip was the realization that I had seasonal allergies, and my typical spring cold was not a cold at all.
We left our house in the early morning, with snow still on the ground. We actually had winter in those days, and the snowpack lasted into April sometimes. I believe the timing of this trip was the beginning of April, but pictures from the time will have the proof. As we traveled south, we took note of the arrival of spring: an hour south, and the snow was patchy, two hours away from home and it was muddy with buds. It was like time travel, fast forwarding through the arrival of spring – and I began to sneeze. I felt awful. My eyes started itching, watering, I began to whine and sniffle. I could not control the sneezes. And then my dad joined the party. Mom looked at the two of us and exclaimed, “You have allergies!” We pulled off, found a pharmacy, and I have been on seasonal allergy meds ever since.
Problem solved.
If only.
Our bodies are amazing things, and nature is incredible, but every so often these things work against me – the allergy meds stop working. I will switch brands, try a different cocktail, I have gone to my doctor to see what relief they can offer. I use nasal sprays and inhalers, learned dehydrating allergy meds can make me susceptible to laryngitis, and so bear the pain, the shortness of breath, the exhaustion when I need to get work done.
I have learned over the years that when I have a safe refuge with air that is filtered and I can have a moment’s relief and breathe low-pollen air, it gives my poor body a chance to catch up, but without that safe breathing zone, I have an incredibly difficult time with easy tasks as well as focus.
This spring has been full of high pollen counts and low temperatures, especially at night. The low temperatures are the kicker. Great for maple sugar harvesting (I hope!), but a combination that means we were relying on fans to move air through the house, not an air conditioner.
Faced with hot temperatures and nasty humidity this week, we installed our window air conditioner in our home office on Monday. This unit also helps with the air in the neighboring living room; these two rooms are where my partner and I spend the bulk of our time at home. In two hours of the unit being installed and active, with windows to the outside closed, I began to feel better. My partner says he saw a visible difference in than short time.
We had friends coming to town, though, and exited the safe haven to meet them. My car’s air system needs some work done, but as I was driving, we took my car – and by the time we reached the mall, thirty minutes later, I was in pain again.
Tuesday, I spent the day working from home. I inured myself in the bubble of filtered air, worked, rested, and recovered as I could, knowing that the next day I had to be out.
Wednesday, I woke up feeling good! I was not coughing, either dry or micro nose-bleed evidence. I could breathe without pain, I felt refreshed. I got ready to preside over a graveside service, I was ready to visit my parents after, and I had my lists of groceries, both for ourselves and for my neighbors.
This is the trap of the pendulum. I overdid my enthusiasm on Wednesday, and by the time I returned home I was useless for the rest of the afternoon. I was on the road to recovery by the evening, though, which was nice, but now I fear leaving my bubble.
Yesterday I did leave my haven, but it was not as long, and the activities were not as vigorous. I learned from the day before – do not overdo it. Take it slow. I always want to rush to full throttle, to get everything done, or to do nothing at all, collapse in recovery. I need to lean into balance and pacing – which is different from patience. Pacing is taking measured steps, pacing is methodical. Pacing takes time to examine if it is time to move on before moving, or if I need to move even if the next step is not clear.
I am thankful for this – the relief of filtered air that lets my lungs expand fully, to take in oxygen that I can feel infusing strength to my muscles. I admit that last is more psychosomatic than actual sensation, but the visualization helps.
Today, I have many things to do, and I do not know if I will complete them all, but I have my bubble of relief, and I know I need to take things one step at a time.
But, in all seriousness, the trees have not always been this virulent! I want my winter relief returned.
I started laughing when I read your first sentence. I, too, missed posting on Wednesday, thought I would get it done on Thursday, but nope. I just posted my blog today, too! And although I have annoying allergies--they are not nearly as bad as what you are experiencing. Hugs!