I have spent the last three weeks almost entirely stuck in bed, more ill than I have been in about six years. I saw it coming, as after more than ten years with ME I have learnt to recognise the signs and I even said in a blog post on the 3rd of January that I was expecting it. Given that I had flu in November, then another variant of flu in December, then went to visit family for Christmas, I was obviously going to pay for all that exertion. By the time of our new years eve party I was already feeling it, and spent several hours of the evening sitting quietly away from everyone else in a different room.

Well after two weeks of leaving my bed only to visit the bathroom (and crawling to it) I managed to spend a bit of time out of bed each day for the following week. I am supposed to divide up my day in to patterns of rest and activity but I have trouble in pacing myself so I tend to stay out of bed until I have no choice but return to it. Today I have spent about seven hours out of bed and even ventured out of the house after being tempted with a full English breakfast at the local cafe! It was only 200 metres away but it was still a walk.

If I keep going in this vein then I am hopeful that I could be back to being out of bed all day after another week or so and maybe even back to work the week after, if I don’t overdo it before then. More importantly, I hope that I can ride my motorbike soon. It’s been six weeks which is too damn long.

My motorbike. I miss it.

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