The last couple of weeks have been crazy. I've been running on fumes and adrenalin but, oh it's been fun! The pay off has been severe post-exertional malaise for the last two days with muscle weakness, bad balance, bad co-ordination resulting in the smashing of one our few remaining coffee mugs, and muscle/joint aches and pains.
The community group I belong to put on a 'Damson Day' on Saturday as a bit of a fundraiser, but also to celebrate the damson blossom in our 'lost garden'. As it turned out we were two weeks too late for the blossom but it didn't matter. I was already pooped as the day dawned, having had to organise a work party and BBC Radio interview the week before. I managed, however, to enjoy most it propped up in my folding chair or lying on a rug dispensing the odd piece of wisdom to passing punters. I was kept fed by volunteers, mostly with the delicious damson cream teas we were serving. By the end of the day I was totally spaced.
Alongside all of this excitement I've also been trying to get a mental health user group going with minor to moderate success. I've connected up with an NHS Involvement Team for an adjacent area who are going to help me out. But they also want to talk to me about a 'role' which may mean a little paid work here and there. I'm very excited about this. It's work I'd be able to do within my physical and mental means and would mostly be voluntary. Is this recovery? I don't know, but it is compromise and one I can live with.
The backdrop to all of this has been the Royal Wedding (which IMHO was completely over hyped - did we need it all day? I think not) and now, in weird juxtaposition, the revenge killing of Osama Bin Laden. Both things big media benchmarks which insinuate themselves into the felt experience of the times. Beginnings and endings both.