Flare-Ups and Future Plans: A Week in Controlled Chaos

Flare-Ups and Future Plans: A Week in Controlled Chaos

Well, Sunday’s here, and I’m shuffling to the finish line of a week that felt like being dropkicked by a fibromyalgia flare-up wearing steel-toe boots. My leg? A new kind of awful. Pain levels? Think “exponential,” not “annoying.” And of course, the pharmacy had to run out of meds, because fate loves irony (Surgery coming soon... yippee!!)

But hey, the game was a highlight. Caught up with some lovely friends, Kevin, Colin, and Ali, always a joy. Got to chat with Hope too (who may or may not have been serious about catching up, but I’m choosing to believe she meant it). The only downer was a couple of the girls getting injured. Never fun. WXV, though? Back and bossing it.

Sleep is a distant memory. Pain plus inconsistent training has made rest a myth. Back on the sleeping tablets just to function. Tomorrow, though, the comeback begins, gentle training, nothing wild. Just enough to remind myself I still move.

It’s strange, last week I was raring to go. Now? More reluctant than ever. But the fire's not out; just smoldering under the weight of reality. There are still big dreams brewing. Ideally, a charity wheel between World Cup venues. Then there’s the mega-goal: wheeling my everyday wheelchair the entire West Coast of America. A proper record attempt, no frills, no faffing. Just grit, gear, and probably a lot of aiching.

To make that happen, I need a rock-solid team, people who know me, the route, the bike, and probably my medical history better than I do. Zero drama. All support. Think “Mission: Possible,” minus Tom Cruise, but still needing a solid physio and top-notch nutrition.

It's wild how something I have achieved, something no one else has, still flies under the radar. Feels like it never even happened. But I know it did. Guinness knows it did (at least, I hope they will once they review the evidence I finally submitted, tick tock, Guinness).

Meanwhile, a couple of radio interviews and a blog (hey, like this!) are on the horizon. Might even attract the donations I need. Or not. We’ll see. Until then, all I can do is keep wheeling, one cranky joint at a time.