Spa Time – Round II

Those who’ve followed this from the beginning will remember I was given home leave from the hospital to go to the spa with Aunt and Sister. What a difference a year makes. Last year, Sister was engaged but not married and I was still in ‘hospital shock’ – my term for the wide-eyed rabbit look all new patients seemed to have for the first week. This year, Sister is married, I’m more human! Wahoo. Now, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t do something stupid which this year included falling down the stairs. I swear, I don’t know how I do it, it just happens. I am currently sporting a very black bruise thanks to the chest at the foot of the stairs ‘catching me’. All ok though, I may need to be more spatially aware of my surroundings (and maybe walk around in a bubble wrap coat).


This year, whilst not 100% back to fighting fitness, I was definitely more ‘me’ than I’ve been in a while. Food (a.k.a. my emotions) have gone through a nose dive over the last 3 weeks however, a lot of R&R later (whilst surrounded by amazing cakes and wine…) and I’ve found my spark again. Whilst finding the spark, I’ve found my lycra too. Turns out my spark is closely linked to my lyrca so running every other day is not optional, it’s mandatory. Once my cleaner and the electrician have finished, it’ll be time to pound the pavements of North London for the first time in 9 days. I’d reached week 6 on the NHS sofa to 5K podcast but, given the break (and lots of puddings/ chocolates/ crisps…) I’ve decided to re-do week 5 before moving on. I’ve also decided to brave my gym again.


For the last few months, I’ve diligently paid my membership without so much as crossing the threshold. It’s ridiculous. However… this is where my head intervenes so I am going to try to talk through it…


My head tells me that everyone at the gym will laugh at my obese backside as I walk in. They’ll then stop and stare as I run the gauntlet from the changing room to the pool (why are these so far apart from each other?) before finally laughing their heads off at the speed of my laps. This fun little game plays itself out ALL THE TIME. So, strangely my mind (a.k.a. my inner bully) told me I had to be fit BEFORE I could go back to the gym. I mean, never mind the fact that the gym is going to be the place to help me get fit again… no, only the already chiseled and toned should dare to enter. Yes, I know, that logic is very flawed. I’ve come to my senses and so I’ll be challenging my head tomorrow, where I am booked into a Pilates class and then plan to swim… eek.


My depression and anxiety are also playing games with me. I get nightmares when I feel very stressed. The current nightmare involves my return to work. I really want to go back but these nightmares are scary. Will everyone laugh at me? Will I have forgotten how to do my job? What if the depression closes in on itself again? I can’t answer the above but I do know that I’ll need support in place to make the transition as smooth as possible. Sister and Mum will be a rock but I know my friends will rally around me too… I just need to ask. So, public plea… once my return to work date is confirmed (and shared online!), please take this as my ask for your help. It turns out that asking for help isn’t a weakness or a bad thing. It’s something we all need to do from time to time. One thing to point out… I still don’t have a return to work date. I am meant to see Dr. E on 2nd March but that now coincides with major surgery for Father (which in itself is going to test all my coping mechanisms) so watch this space for an update.


The other thing to come clean about is healthy habits. I ignored my own advice… keep things going even during good days. I’ve stopped writing, stopped having early nights, stopped having baths, stopped writing in my journal… the list goes on but I think you get the message. These healthy habits are even more important to maintain when feeling in a good place. It means, when bad days hit, you are more resilient (urgh, such corporate mumbo jumbo for strong!) to fight back. Now I am home with a spa glow just about still shining, it’s time to write, talk, walk, run, sleep and bath so I can be healthier and happier.


On that note, I am off to eat some fruit, drink some water and squish myself into lycra! Watch out North London, I am coming for you.



I really do need to be wrapped in a protective layer



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