Thwack! Swoosh! Kapow!

Damn I hate that. You're going along happily. Not feeling great, but not feeling too bad either. Then....

(here)

Down for the count. Fickle bastard that Bob is, he decided yesterday was the day to really stick the boot in. It's not particularly hot today, despite being Summer here in Australia. I haven't been out and about. I haven't even attempted to dispel the dust bunnies procreating throughout my house. Yet here I am knackered again.

The only thing I can think of as even a slight possibility, is that I pulled out my huge 500gm weights in a fit of pique and dared to lift them above my head for a nanosecond. Technically I'm still banned from exercise until I can gain some of my weight back. But as that hasn't happened since my big loss in August, I put on my stubborn, "Screw you Bob" hat, and busted out my imaginary leotard. Sadly, it appears that this is not the most helpful strategy for dealing with a chronic and spiteful disorder. Perhaps I should listen to my physio and my doctors. Perhaps Mr Grumpy is justified in calling me a 'dumbarse'. Perhaps. Or perhaps Mr Grumpy will wake up with one less eyebrow tomorrow morning. You just never know.

I've also had increasing pain in my left leg and a rather sexy limp. According to my GP who berated me, and gave me the "I'm so disappointed" look, you should see a medical professional when this happens. Who knew? Not stubborn me. How do you pick which pain is important when you are in pain every day? So now it's scans, scans and more scans. Monday I get a dose of radiation and a full day of scanning. Can't wait. I'm wondering if I should break out my cape just in case I develop any super powers on the day.

So I'll sit/lie/flop on the couch and resist the temptation to lift my head, which apparently is a great way to make the world turn a various shades of grey. I may even sit and stare at the computer screen, fingers flopped on the keyboard for 10 minutes trying to form a sentence. Lights are on but nobody's home. Well except for Bob. And his friends, nausea, weakness, headache, tachycardia, chest pain.........

Bugger it. I might just get my minions to ply me with chocolate (if you're going to feel sick no matter what you eat you might as well have something yum), scoff some pain meds and watch mindless TV. 

Cheers

Michelle :)

PS. Still getting through the emails for The Dorothy Shoe Project. It's been one of those weeks, so I am rather behind. I do apologise and will get onto them soon. I've had few questions pop up. So just to clarify. 

• ALL the shoes will start the journey here in Melbourne, Australia and be posted out around the world to various countries. 
• A diary will be accompanying each pair of shoes so everyone can write about their individual day.
• When the shoes have finished their various travels, they'll all come back to Australia with their corresponding diaries. 
• Diaries will be scanned and put on the website.
• The plan is to then auction off each pair of shoes to raise funds for Dysautonomia research. 

I think that covers the main questions, though as my brain has officially left the building today I may have missed some. 

One of my favourites, the wonderful Etta James passed away today so I think it's only appropriate to celebrate her in my musical interlude. Although, At Last is perhaps the song she is best known for, this is my favourite.