Last night I had a very traumatic episode with some deep heat. By traumatic, I mean I had to have a second shower and lay with a wet towel on my back for about ten minutes while my skin recoiled and came out in lumps. Who knew deep heat was so hot? My back has been aching relentlessly for about two weeks now. If back ache could be charged rent, I would be quids in. While inspecting my back for any lasting damage this morning and vowing to stay away from deep heat (it’s fine, you’ll be relieved to know) I began to think about the amount of time hypermobility syndrome takes up in my life, even if it’s just thinking about aching, or shifting my bag from one shoulder to the other. It’s an attention seeker, that’s for sure.
Sufferers of HMS or EDS hypermobility type will know just how irritating and time consuming it can be. It gets in the way a lot. It hurts a lot. It makes a lot of clicky, cracky sounds. Basically, yuck. One of my more trivial Hypermobility syndrome issues is Bestival. A festival on the Isle of Wight every September that I absolutely love. I started going when I was a student and attended my fourth this year. It sadly reached the stage this time around where lugging a massive rucksack, tent, a bag for life full of alcohol and lots of glitter was inconceivable. My shoulders and my hips were not going to deal with it, and that was that. Luckily for me I have amazing friends who offered to drive me around and helped carry my mound of belongings. Of course it doesn’t end there. Lots of standing and walking around, getting over excited at the sight of people in fancy dress and aggressive dancing to Disclosure and Chic left my joints in a state of emergency. One of my favourite times of every year is now very hard to enjoy and I think I’ll have to take a career break from Bestival. Cheers HMS. Funnily enough Bestival was called HMS Bestival this year, with a nautical theme. Go figure.
Even going on holiday is a literal pain. Suitcase pulling and being squashed on a plane make me ache and feel stiff and sore and ultimately grumpy. Of course I still go on them, but the point is IT HURTS. Some people suffer to the point where they are very disabled by these syndromes, so I count my lucky stars I am able to still do most things. I worry about getting old and how my joints will cope when I’m 63, seeing as they aren’t too fond of being 23. Peeling potatoes proved too hard a few weeks ago and washing my hair is starting to become a time where my wrists and shoulders click and crack like some kind of unhappy joint choir. Who needs an in-shower radio anyway? The prospect of an exciting weekend now is one where I hopefully don’t ache too much. Living life on the edge, hypermobile style.
One thing I have taken from hypermobility syndrome is that living in a state of woe is me is not helpful. I still moan and complain that I ache and have excessively long, hot showers, but I have had to snap out of feeling constantly sorry for myself. There are people who have it worse than me, a lot more people than I first imagined and even more so since I started this blog.
I plan on attending one of the Hypermobility Syndrome Association meet-ups soon, to discuss, moan and hopefully come through laughing in a group. A fair few people I have spoken with by email or on Twitter are completely unaware that these happen. A lot of people seem to be slightly lost or confused about symptoms too, so these meetings will probably be hugely beneficial if this applies to you. Click below (oh the irony)
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