Meds - Chronic Fatigue Portfolio - Chronic Fatigue My Diary - Chronic Fatigue
CFS| Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

Hot as Hell

Posted by amber | My Diary | Posted on January 20th, 2012

So, the heat of the last 4 has made me put pen to paper.

CFS + HEAT do not compute.

Add to that malaria tabs (see Malanil) – which I believe have a cumulated effect – and I now am dizzy, nauseous and am having vivid and unpleasant dreams. Add to that Body Tech (an electric current which contracts your muscles) which is the CFS sufferers answer to lifting weights without actually having to. So now everything else is sore and it’s “that time of the month” and its post Xmas and New Year hangover!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can you hear the blood curdling yell?!#@$%^

As you already know CFS and December is an awful combo. Too many people; too much noise; too much unhealthy food; too hot; too many late nights, plus the stress of the Xmas period. For the rest of the world it’s a fabulous time of the year = parties, the beach, presents, etc. We however DO NOT COPE, BUT we none the less believe we are and soldier on ignoring the tell-tale signs.

So I sailed through Xmas and New Year and then went straight into 6 days on safari. This is my BEST kind of holiday. Up at 5, everything is fresh and new and crisp and clear. Then the joys of the outdoor shower under the trees – delicious. Followed by bracing morning air, chilling your face as you bump and bounce your way through the bush on a 4×4. Your eyes are peeled for a glimpse of the ever elusive wildlife … and you are never disappointed.  Imagine an 8 week old leopard cub, with the biggest sapphire coloured eyes enrobed in spotted fur; or 8 lion cubs, a muddle of arms and legs, growls and purrs and golden down and liquid brown eyes and pink tongues; or a herd of elephants, all grey wrinkly towers if pure strength yet with these soft, intelligent eyes encircled by the longest lashes; trunks twisting and turning elegantly; and baby elies like fat little kids wobbling after mom. BLISS.

And then it’s time for morning munchies out in the bush – dunking rusks in tea, whilst your breath mists the sir. By midday you are wallowing in the cool waters or lie collapsed in a sweaty heap in the shade, every movement an effort. And then at 4 it starts all over again; another adventure and the excitement is tangible.

All is good and well until you are back home and CFS claims me again. Big powerful claws drag me down and nausea rises as the energy drains; fatigue suffocates me; muscle, sinew, bone and flesh conspire to leave this sinking ship and pain floods in. I just cannot keep my eyes open; lights to bright; sounds too loud; life too hard …