Phoenix

I was so excited on Sunday. Our new choir song had came through for the new choir term that started last night. There’s always a buzz of excitement and anticipation waiting for the new song on a Sunday. Mostly it’s a hit with the majority and occasionally we breathe a collective sigh of disappointment. it’s much easier to learn and perform a song that we resonate with.

On Monday the fatigue was hitting hard. I put it down to having attended the party on Saturday night. My support worker had arrived at 9am. I hadn’t seen him for three weeks. Instead of getting him to do tasks around the flat I opted for us to enjoy the spruced up balcony. I made us both coffee and he got comfortable in the big camping chair and I got comfortable in the egg chair. The sun was shining bright and if we stayed still and quiet the birds came to the feeders.

On Monday afternoon I sat down at the piano. My happy place. After practicing scales and arpeggios I started to play Gymnopedie no. 1. A piece I have played hundreds of times. As I got two thirds of the way through the piece my mind went blank. I couldn’t remember what comes next. I tried several times more but each time I reached the same spot I couldn’t remember what the notes are. Panic started to set in. I’m still learning to sight read. So I learn a piece from the sheet music and then once memorised I don’t use the sheet anymore. I became frenzied. The more I tried to remember the worse I played. I searched through my music and found the sheets for Gymnopedie and played it through.

The whole event was exhausting and upsetting. So I decided to go and rest. Monday evening I joined the online choir session as I was eager to start the new song. My throat felt a bit scratchy but I didn’t take much notice and completed the hour and a half session. I went to bed looking forward to in person choir on Tuesday.

I didn’t sleep well. Tuesday morning at 8am the council mowers and strimmers arrived. The noise is horrible. My head was full of pain, my nose was streaming, every inch of my body felt like it had been beaten and my throat felt like razor blades. I stayed in bed cuddling the cat until the mowers left at 9.30am. I very slowly got out of bed. I could feel my heart pounding. I checked my Fitbit and just getting out of bed made my heart rate shoot up to 143! The cat needed fed and her litter tray needed cleaned. Despite the nausea I needed to get something to eat so I could take my metformin. Every step was slow and calculated.

Even though I was feeling so ill I was still debating if I could make it to choir. At midday I check my temperature which had shot up to 38.5 and so I decided to be sensible and contact the choir leader to let him know I couldn’t come. I’m choir helper and I knew the other choir helper was at work so I reached out to the rest of the group to see if someone could stand in for me for the evening. Then I climbed back into bed.

This morning my fever has reduced but I still feel really unwell. The fear of being so unwell that I can’t manage my own needs terrifies me. Not being able to remember the music terrified me. Is that what dementia is like? Or with dementia do you not know that you’re forgetting? I see now that it was probably down to me having a virus or the flu or whatever this is.

It looks like another day of bed rest.