Firstly, my computer decided that it was going to give up the ghost and spectacularly fried the hard drive. My computer is my lifeline to the rest of the world as I can’t just get up and go see people, so it left me feeling a little isolated.
To add to all this though, I woke up yesterday and my finger was itching and red and very uncomfortable. After the best part of an hour, I managed to finally remove my engagement ring in case it got any worse. I most definitely did not want to have to have my engagement ring cut in order to remove it from my finger. After another hour or so the swelling had subsided to enough of a degree that the cause was apparent: I had gained enough weight that my ring would no longer fit my finger.
I was devastated.
Suffering from CFS (ME) is very frustrating for me because you can’t just work harder at getting better. Lack of exercise is gradually de-conditioning my muscles and I am gaining weight. I can’t actively exercise as this uses even more energy that I just don’t have. I have a series of exercises given to me by an Occupational Therapist from the CFS group at my local hospital, but these are just tools to try to prevent my muscles from wasting away really. Much more than that is currently out of my reach.
I had spent many of my sessions with my doctor discussing the weight gain that I had little control over and she had reminded me that I’d lost it all once before and that when I have recovered from the CFS (ME) I can lose it all again, and that there wasn’t really any point in worrying about the things I can’t really change currently. But now my ring doesn’t fit.
Mr Wench came home from work to find me bawling my eyes out. I’m not talking little lady-like tears here, I’m talking full on, nose the colour of a beetroot, uncontrollable hysterics. I know that not being able to wear that ring makes no difference to how much Mr Wench loves me, or how much I love him. We have put our wedding on hold for so long in order for me to be well enough to participate that not being able to wear my ring was just one more in a long list of frustrations.
But it was my ring. Its beautiful.
And every time I glanced down at my hand and saw that little flash of light reflected from my ring it made me smile.
Now it is tied around my wrist with a piece of string but it isn’t the same.
I know its silly to get so upset over such a trivial thing in the grand scheme of things, but it was one of the few things I could count on to lift my mood on a bad day, and now our wedding just looks further and further away.