When I don’t feel well

I have been fortunate to feel much better this last month or so. Today is a low day. I think I might have caught something that is making me feel bad, rather than the Raynaud’s resurfacing by itself. As a creature of habit (and routine), there are a few things I do when I don’t feel well:

  1. Take my contact lenses out and wash my face. I can’t nap with contact lenses in and there’s something about make-up on my face when I’m poorly that just makes me feel worse.
  2. Put my pyjamas on. I wear joggers when I’m home but even those are too uncomfortable when I’m feeling sorry for myself.
  3. Get into bed with a big warm blanket. Because being warm and comfortable immediately makes me feel a bit better.
  4. Eat something bad for me. Sometimes it’s crisps, sometimes it’s ice cream. Today it’s bread and butter pudding. (I’m trying not to think about how bread and butter pudding is bread + butter + sugar + milk + cream + egg with a few added raisins. Raisins are good though. I’ll focus on that.)
  5. Watch something funny, whimsical or scary. Sometimes it’s a film such as Hot Fuzz (“It’s just bolognese!”), sometimes it’s Criminal Minds (if I’m not the only one home). Today it’s Murdoch Mysteries (because I adore Constable Crabtree).

So now I’m off to eat some raisins, with added bread and butter … and custard. Enjoy a snippet of the two Andys:

I wrote a(nother) letter

When I was young, I used to write letters quite often. I usually wrote to my great aunt, but I also had a pen pal for a short time. I wrote a letter to include with a present I sent a few months ago to a friend I wasn’t able to visit for her birthday. It seems to have rekindled my interest in letter writing.

I have only one school friend left that I am close to, but she moved away because of work. It takes 9 hours to drive to see her and my bank account can’t take that sort of punishment at the moment. (Not to mention I don’t think my hands can grip a steering wheel for that long any more.) She has been struggling with a chronic illness and she is the sort of person who finds it difficult to talk about just how hard things are for her. It’s very easy to forget about people when you don’t see them regularly, but I wanted her to know that I haven’t forgotten her.

LettersShe contacted me via text a few months ago but didn’t respond when I asked after her health (she had asked after mine). So after some thought, I decided to write her a letter. It’s more personal than a text – I sound more like me; I can express myself more authentically. I also hope it might be easier for her to talk about how she is by letter. I wrote that I hoped to hear from her soon, after I had written about events in my life I thought she would be interested in and asked about hers, but I didn’t lay down the expectation that she should write back. I just wanted to give her that option if she wished to take it up. It’s a difficult line to tread: to let someone know you care about them and are there for them if they need you, but not to make them feel pressured to discuss things they may not wish to.

I sent the letter earlier this week. Now I can only wait and see.