I'm having a bit of a wobbly and a rage, rage against the non-dying of the blasted costochondritis/arthritis/ME/fibromyalgia (I've had all those diagnoses over the years) that I've had to adapt to more and more since my early twenties and that has had me blinking back tears today after I painted a picture this morning.
It wasn't full on painting. There were breaks while parts dried, while I had cups of tea, folded dry laundry, and so forth.
Back in my early twenties I was cycling about two and a half miles (nothing on a bike!) to work where I was writing a good deal and cycling back. My shoulder blade area and inner right chest hurt so much that I would sometimes put my arm in a sling to rest it in the evenings. I thought it was muscular. Called it my RSQ (right shoulder quirk) or URQA (upper right quadrant ache) and got on with my life. I started doing things left-handed, like cleaning my teeth, ironing, stirring stuff in saucepans, drinking from mugs and glasses, swapping gardening tools between hands... All that proved jolly useful when I broke my right wrist a few years ago.
But the hard part is that gradually, from my late forties, I've had to give up all the active things I most enjoyed: Scottish dancing, at which I was extremely good, swimming, cycling, etc, etc.... even, in the last few years – this is mad but it's true – grating cheese (!!) because of the exacerbation it caused. Somehow I never mastered that left-handed, possibly because of having to hold the grater with my right. God! the things I've had to think of!!
I've recently taken up painting after (pre-covid and we've recently got back to it) helping a peripatetic artist with a class for people with dementia. I was just a general helper but I've learned a lot from watching and listening and, given that MrB has painted recreationally for some years and has lots of the 'gear', thought I'd give it a go too. As yet I'm not good at it. I have many "brush miles" to go but that's part of the fun, the finding out what works.
So this afternoon's figurative thump in the chest has kinda floored me with self pity. I thought this kitchen would be a safe place to let it all out. I am now going to drink more tea and eat chocolate. I might have a wee dram alongside to dull the pain.