Fatigue. And more bed rest.
Last week, I began my Medium “journey” — can I call it a journey? — with a post detailing how I’d been prescribed bed rest for the first time in my life. To begin with, I naively thought bed rest meant I could just do everything as normal but from my bed. Zoom calls in interesting pyjamas. My usual work day featuring dressing gown. Doom scrolling plus extra pillows.
How wrong I was. Having taken a trip back to the urgent care centre earlier this week, it turns out that following my two favourite Mirandas in their times of bed rest was not the right thing to do. That’s Bailey and Hobbes, of Greys Anatomy and Sex And The City respectively, if you’re interested; both of whom shamelessly failed at bed rest when given their fictional orders.
No, the doctor told me that anything other than lying down, a couple of hours here and there looking at a screen, getting up every so often to move around, was unacceptable. After giving me a diagnosis of post viral fatigue syndrome, she used one of my favourite quotes: “If your own cup is empty, how can you help others fill theirs?” Naughty Laura. Sorry Doc.
So, for the first time in my life, I’ve listened to orders to take a fortnight of proper rest. No work, no binging American sitcoms, just lying down. Snoozing til mid morning, taking daytime baths, watching motivational videos here and there. Writing when I have the energy and inspiration. Being told to get off the phone by my colleague if I call to see if she’s ok. Saying no a lot. Trust me, my boundaries are being stretched.
Of course, if you told me you were ill and had been advised to take bed rest, I’d be the first person to tell you to stop, rest up and do what you need to do to recover. “Fill your own cup” as the doctor said, so you can get better and give to others again.
There’s something about being a woman that makes stopping incredibly difficult. Slowing down, resisting the urge to help others, feeling completely useless when you’re not there to do everything you usually do, and more. It’s so natural, and so unnatural, to say yes to everyone but yourself. “Laura, can you?” Yes, of course. “Could you just…” Yep, coming. “Do you know?” Of course, hang on.
As I took a break from writing just now to get dinner (in bed, don’t worry), I had a look through the words I wrote last week. It said: “For now, I’m getting to grips with balancing bed rest with everything else life throws.” I guess that’s where I went wrong. I didn’t stop, I didn’t resist the urge to help others. I shouldn’t have tried to get to grips with balancing in the first place.
I’m doing it now, that’s the main thing. In a little while I’ll put the MacBook down and lie down again. I’ll take the lesson learned the hard way that sometimes we do just need to stop. Particularly the females and non-binary folk amongst us, who tend to carry a much heavier load.
If you’re interested in the two Mirandas by the way, I’m not up to date on either of them. But this week, when I’m allowed my screen time, I’ve been catching up on Grey’s Anatomy. I can’t update on Ms Hobbes (I am waiting impatiently for the new SATC spin off to return) but Ms Bailey just took a break. Apparently there’s been a pandemic in TV land too, and life has gone mad. I guess I need to follow her suit.
