Since being ill my body has redefined what it sees as stressful. Being given options for tea, when feeling at my poorliest, could reduce me to tears of overwhelm. The nervous system has obviously gone to-pot. Fair enough. We know this illness wreaks havoc on multiple bodily systems. We can coach it into trying to loosen its definitions on what things it should see as stressful or not stressful. Chicken or fish, you ask? It’s okay Body, we’ve got this.
But what then happens when something that is Very Stressful by ‘normal’ parameters happens? Life happens. We cannot avoid it. But how is my poor little body, with its faulty stress meter, meant to cope?
Well, it does and it doesn’t.
I have a finite amount of adrenaline that allows me to push through the acute phase of whatever it is that’s brought stress to my door. But here, we all know that pushing through comes with consequences. Adrenaline is both a blessing and a curse.
Alongside this acute phase, my digestive system goes awry. So does my sleep. My vision. My heart rate. And then the aftermath comes in the form of Post Exertional Malaise. The adrenal hangover is particularly unpleasant.
And there’s a panic and a fear that I can’t not mention. Knowing that while I’m trying to navigate The Stressful Thing and support those who need it within my own limits and restrictions, I’m going to suffer in so many ways afterwards is beyond terrifying.
IMAGE: Anna sitting on a doorstep in pink pyjamas and pink slippers. Her face is out of shot.
'M.E. myself and I' by Anna Redshaw 