Tag: morning

Posted in Archive, February

Benedict’s Obstacle Course.

Posted on by dystoniaandme

 Imagine this: You wake up in the morning, your eyelids open but you can see nothing due to a spasm pulling your eyes back. You massarge around your eyes blinking violently, trying to beat the first obstacle of the day. Suddenly your sight is back! You celebrate silently, not wanting Benedict to realise you have won, in-case he wants to take revenge. Next you decide to dress quickly before he wakes up and realises what you are doing. You have your top half done, and one leg in your jeans, when suddenly Benedict strikes! Your right leg contorts, as if it’s trying to physically turn backwards, meanwhile your foot has turned under and is dragging along the floor. You stop, take a deep breath, and then start attacking your own leg. Desperately trying to get your jeans over it.

Bang! Your hurried attempts have caused you to fall backwards on to your bed. However you keep on wrestling with your leg until finally you have won. You are officially dressed. You look in the mirror, do you dare attempt to tame your hair and do your make up? With a quick glance at the clock, you decide to attempt to do it. Nervously you brush through your hair, and quickly put it up in a simple pony tail. Relief sweeps through your body. Now on to the make up. Your doing well, almost done. Then, suddenly, pain sears through your eye. Your right hand, which is holding the mascara brush, has spasmed, causing the brush to go straight into your eye.

It has now been two hours since you got up. You have finally managed to get dressed, with hair and most your make up done. Now you need to get through to the living room, so you can grab your bag. Splinting your right hand up first, so as to contain any more unwanted spasms, you slip your arms through your crutches and hop out your room into the hall way. You glance down at the shoes and bags scattered around on the floor like a minefield, and hop around them. Careful not to misplace a crutch or slip.

Now you have reached the penultimate hurdle. You squeeze yourself past the sofa and clothes horse into the living room. Reaching down you pick up your handbag, and swing it over your shoulder. You give yourself a satisfactory smile. You are beating Benedict’s obstacle course so far. You start hopping forwards. You go to squeeze back through the gab between the sofa and the clothes horse…when your right knee collides with the end of the sofa. The knock immediately triggers a spasm. Your leg is twisting side ways and upwards. Pain is taking over. Your balance is now lost. You haphazardly try to place your crutches in a position that will stabilise you. It is a losing battle. You fall backwards onto the other sofa that is just behind you.

After the spasm has calmed down, you decide to take on the final hurdle. This time you choose to leave the crutches behind. Hoping that it will enable you to pass through the dangerous gap between the sofa and clothes horse with ease. You jump up onto your good leg. Keeping your right one off the floor, bent slightly. With arms whirling round widely to prevent you from falling, you hop successfully past the sofa and back into the hallway. You have finally reached the front door! You do not have much further to go. You link your arm round a family member for support and hop out the door. In front of you lies three large steps. Each one looks like a mountain. It fills you with dread. Half of you wants to turn back around, go back to bed and claim defeat. However you hold your ground and preserver, refusing to give in to the evil Dystonia alien, Benedict. You bend your good knee, and cling to the railing with your working/free arm and hop up the huge steps.

You have finally reached your goal. You have reached the car that is waiting to take you to your doctor’s appointment. For the mean time, you have beaten Benedict the Dystonia alien.

Welcome to my life!

 

Posted in Archive, January

The Battle against my Foot, the Doctors and my Brain.

Posted on by dystoniaandme

When you wake up in the morning, what do you? Do you mentally wrestle with yourself to throw back your warm duvet cover, swing your legs out into the unwelcoming cold, stand up and start your day? This is a simple task. One you do every day without thinking about it.

For me, simple is not an applicable word for this every day task. Most days my mother wakes me up to give me my first cocktail of medications for the day. I stay in bed, at the moment for breakfast, as venturing outside of the safety of my mattress is a dangerous move to make. When I eventually have to get out of bed, it involves me calling for my mum to help. Once I have managed to get to the edge of the bed, my mum takes one arm and my step-dad or sibling will take the other.  They support me/attempt to prevent me from falling as I try to walk.

At the moment when my right foot is forced to try and work normally, it fights back hard. Often winning. My toes curl them-selves under, my foot flips over so that the top of it scraps painfully along the floor. And then to put the icing on the cake, it will twist in unnatural painful positions, as it protests violently against my will.

For me, at the present time, getting up and moving is an exhausting task. One that fills me with dread every time I need the loo, or have to move to a different room. Each time I attempt to move around, I try to clear my mind from panic. I tell myself over and over again, that this time  it might just be different, I might manage to walk a few steps, like I was doing before Christmas. I fill my head with positive thoughts. However when my foot then starts to contort, it is physically and emotionally draining.

I wish the doctors could see me like this. See me at home, when I am out of my wheelchair. Where a small glitch in my brain makes me vulnerable in my own environment. Where I struggle to walk one step, where my family catches me when I collapse, where my family protect me from my surroundings when the pain causes me to have a Seizure. Where they could see that I need help now and not in a years time!

However I must remain positive, I must focus on the fact that before Christmas, I was slowly making progress, and learning to walk again. The fact I started to walk, reassure’s me that I will again. Until then I just have to suck it up and deal with it. I must be pro-active. So I shall blog , I shall write letters, and I shall make the doctors and the politicians listen. I shall make them understand just how life changing and debilitating Dystonia is and I shall make them take action! I shall not remain silent!