Two weeks rest

“You will need two weeks rest.  Go home, put your feet up, read a book or something.”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at those words. Two weeks rest.

I had to go and have a cortisone injection a couple of weeks ago. No biggie, I have had a dodgy hip for a while now due to bursitis and having had physio which didn’t help, this was the next course of treatment. The injection itself was quick and painless which I was relieved about, but I hadn’t really factored rest into the equation.

How could I? I have three children, a house, a job, life. I don’t really do resting unless you count the half an hour slumped in a fatigued daze in front of the television before I drag myself to bed of an evening.

Seeing my face, the physio explained that the injection would only work if I took things easy.

Week one was half term, so my husband and I were both at home, so I figured that I could make an effort to put my feet up, except … well, I would have to do a few jobs.  Little jobs of course.

Then I arrived home and automatically start doing things such as the washing, washing up, sorting. I can’t help it. That’s what I do to try and keep all those domestic balls in the air.  I then sat down.  It was hard.  I kept thinking about all of those things that needed doing.  I tried to engross myself in This Morning, but quite frankly Eamon Holmes just irritated me.  Crochet.  Yes, I would sit and crochet.

I could hear my husband putting things away downstairs and knowing that he would put everything away in the wrong place, I was fighting myself not to go down and take a peek.

No, taking deep breaths, I would go and put some washing away, I can do that sitting down.  Then I would just go down and put some more washing on.  Then I would just go and tidy the children’s bedrooms.  Ooh, I could fix L’s blind, I have been meaning to do that for weeks.  Then I would just go …

It would be okay, I could rest over the weekend.

There were lots of ‘just go…’ moments over the weekend and a few ‘have to go’ moments too.  Hubby had to go and pick one son up from the airport, so I had to go to rugby with the other one and then take my daughter to a party. Oh and the general day to day jobs. The shopping, the ironing, the cooking.

Back to work and there was a little voice in my head telling me to sit down when I could.  I managed to sit down a lot, except I would have to keep getting back up again.  It was the same at home.  My bottom would just be edging towards the sofa and someone would need something, the doorbell would go, I would remember that I had forgotten something.

Two weeks came and went with pretty much no rest.  No surprise then that I am probably going to have to go for another injection, maybe next time I need to book into a hotel for a couple of weeks to make sure I get the two weeks rest.