After a period of relative improving, I severely overdid things on a visit home this week and instigated a terrible flare up. So, instead of stressing myself out trying to write a poignant and insightful article, I decided I could make the best of a bad situation by using my publishing date this week to show the world what a flare up looks like for me. However, I am going to leave out some of the more gory details--I’m not quite ready to share all just yet.

Sunday

It’s been a long week. I took the train to my parents, went to my grandma’s birthday party, visited my friends, and linked up with a fellow traveller who is currently visiting the UK. We had a great time seeing all the sights around the place I grew up, but everyday I was becoming more aware that I’d pushed myself too far. Did I stop? Of course not.

12:11
So now I’m stood on the platform of the train station, two big backpacks dangling from my person, trying to keep upright as my achy joints failed to stabilize the situation. It’s hard to describe what I know as a bad fibro flare up; in my legs it basically equates to the worst sciatica ever, crazy lower back pain, muscle weakness, and the feeling that all your joints aren’t quite succeeding in linking your limbs together.

The universe is clearly punishing me today, as all trains to London have been cancelled and the passengers from them have been instructed to ride my train and change halfway down the line. That means there is about three times the normal amount of people on the platform and seats are certainly not guaranteed--hence the forcing myself to stand near the edge of the platform with my bags, instead of sitting down.

In my brain I weigh up my options: try and find my reserved seat and end up getting wedged into a packed compartment, unable to move, or just go for any seat available and hope for the best. As we pile on the train I decide on the latter, and it’s the right decision. The compartment is packed within minutes and those outside are struggling to get on. I give myself a mental pat on the back for dealing with the situation so well and settle down to relaxing. My bladder is hurting and I know my best chance for avoiding a spasm is trying to ignore it and chill out.

Bladder spasms; not fun. To keep it brief, it feels like you need to go to the toilet. You try but everything seizes up and instead you get an excruciating pain in your pelvic area, where your bladder is. If you’re a Zen-master, you can meditate the pain away and allow the muscles to relax, but I’ve only managed this occasionally. If not, the pain usually lasts a few hours and gets increasingly worse until, eventually, you’re able to pass water. Grim--I know.

13:30
I’ve been free of the agony of a bad spasm for over year, but clearly the stresses of my week had pushed me too far and the first time I attempted to use the loo, it happened. In all fairness to me, I dealt with the situation quite well. I went back to my seat, focused on relaxing, and told myself everything would be OK once I got there. The only problem was, I had to then take a bus from the train station that could take up to 40 minutes. This was not a reality I could face if things didn’t settle down. The other thing that was really throwing a wrench in the plans was that I was trying to coordinate meeting my travelling friend, who was relying on me for directions and a place to stay for the night.

15:55
The train pulled in and I hopped off, trying not to panic and rush to the toilets because that would only end in more pain. Instead I wandered through the train station, nonchalantly, practising breathing exercises until I got to the bathroom. As soon as I got into the cubicle I knew things would be OK and, thankfully, as soon as I hit the seat I felt everything relax--success!

Now, post bladder spasm is never fun; just a whole lot less awful compared to being in the midst of it. The only way I can explain it is feeling traumatized. You’re weak and shaky, your stomach throbs like muscles after a hard workout, the pain has completely exhausted you and your brain can think of nothing except the relief you are now feeling. Unfortunately for me, I also needed to think about the friend that was currently stranded at the bus station and had been periodically texting me trying to work out what she was doing.

After a garbled text conversation where I failed to explain myself and she got even more confused, I simply responded: “Buy a ticket to the end of the line." I figured if I could navigate getting on the same bus as her then I could explain the breakdown when I was there.

17:30
This chapter of the story ends happily. We managed to find each other, I navigated our way home, and I spent the evening in the sort of daze that can only happen after a day of bad pain. I wanted to sleep forever, but I knew I had work to do. The next day was to be spent visiting my friend in hospital, so I settled myself down for a shaky night, hoping that tomorrow would bring some miraculous recovery (It didn’t).

Stay tuned for the next two installments of my catastrophic health collapse; hopefully next week I’ll be feeling a bit better and can be more verbose, witty, and entertaining than I’ve managed here! Sending good health vibes out to all who need them.