Being the Bailer

I’ve done a lot this week. More than I usually allow myself to do. It’s not what I did so much as how many “spoons” those activities took away from me.

On a good day, I waste the majority of my spoons simply cleaning or going to the grocery store. Oh, the grocery store sucks pretty much each spoon I have straight out of my hands. The standing, the walking, the stretching and bending, the lifting and carrying. And the kid wrangling too, because chances are I have a least one kid with me. It’s so exhausting that I often try and pawn the task off on Matt (who gladly does it and who is better at scoring sales anyway because I’m too pain-blind to pay attention).

On Tuesday, we went to Ripley’s Aquarium in Toronto. We took a train out, and while it was an incredible experience (seriously, fun for the whole family), it ate up every last one of my spoons, and then some of the ones I had on reserve, and the majority of the ones from next week.

We had to run to catch the train, which destroyed me. By the time we got home, I had a full fledged migraine brought on by what I can only assume is the pain I was in.

On Wednesday, I took Archer to a program I’ve been meaning to try out for the last several weeks. It’s a little tea and coffee playgroup thing, and while it was also fun, I stood too much and held him too much and just generally tried to do too much too soon after the Ripley’s Aquarium adventure.

I had plans on Thursday to take Archer to family story time at the library, and then bailed on those plans because I just wasn’t feeling it. I still foolishly did stuff though, I drove to my MILs house for a visit and then to my dads. Then I came home and cleaned.

Today, I was supposed to go on a play date with a friend and her kids to some family event thing. I had to text her and cancel, because I can scarcely move right now and I know my weekend is full.

I’ve got a family function to attend tomorrow, sans Matt’s help wrangling the boys and driving the hour long drive because he also has a family thing on his side to attend. I’m also babysitting my niece Saturday night to Sunday afternoon.
I have no spoons now, this morning, and my focus needs to be taking it easy and regaining at least a few of them so I can actually get through this weekend.

I know that there will already be tears (on my part), and that bailing today was necessary to try and preserve and regain spoons, but it really sucks to feel like a bailer…to be the one who has to bail. Especially because a lot of the time, I don’t think people get it. After all, it’s just walking around. It’s nothing that normal folks with no spoon limitation would consider to be strenuous on the body. But for those who have a spoon limitation, walking can be very strenuous. Regular old tasks that others wouldn’t think twice about, like going to the grocery store or even walking their kids to the bus stop, are seemingly large, exhausting fleets.

I’m not my best self when I’m in a lot of pain, either. I’m not as patient. I’m rather snappy and short with those around me. I try to reign that in, because it’s really not everyone else’s fault that I am in pain. I’m aware of it now…I’m more concious of my actions than I was a few years ago.

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About J.C. Hannigan

25. Mother. Wife. Lover of words. Weaver of stories. My first book, Collide, is available in e-book for Amazon Kindle and Kobo.
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2 Responses to Being the Bailer

  1. This spoon theory is interesting. I can’t imagine how you were able to bend and run and chase after the boys at the aquarium while being in chronic pain. You are my hero.

  2. Knowing your limitations and heeding them is so important. I do not live with pain, but with mental illness. Both chronic pain and other chronic illnesses require that we take care of ourselves and know how much we can and cannot do.

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