Up The Farway Tree

Ramblings of a Ballerina




Well, I don't really have anything interesting, witty, or profound to say this week. So I will give you a resume of the week instead. Exciting eh?

• I attended my first physio session using oxygen on Monday. The physio offered me nasal specs (tubing worn over nose) or a mask . Although the mask is probably better if you start to breathe through your mouth, as happens when exercising, I opted for the nasal specs, so I could still talk clearly. The fact I'm too breathless to talk and exercise at the same time is besides the point. I might have suddenly had something very important to say. Anyway I got on well, and definitely felt that I had increased stamina and was therefore able to complete much more of the class than previously (I was joining the cardiac rehab class again -the one with all the oldies). The only downside to completing more of the class, was my inability to move from the sofa for the rest of the day and evening. I may have overdone it slightly due to my new found energy (part of which may have been psychological), so I will maybe take it a bit easier next week.

• In the meantime I am supposed to be working on some upper body exercises - some light weights to build muscle and exercises to improve my posture, which is becoming more and more like the hunchback of notredame. I say 'supposed to be working on' because I haven't really done any weights yet, although I did practice my posture exercises whilst walking Seb today. Everytime he stopped to pee (which is roughly once a minute) I pulled my shoulders back and pushed shoulder blades together and held it for 10 seconds. I think I might have looked a bit odd - probably like I was doing a chicken dance or something. I'm not sure what a chicken dance is actually, but I may have just invented it. I only manage to walk Seb once or twice a week on the days I don't work, so I will have to practice these exercises at other times. Maybe when driving to work. Would that constitute as 'undue care and attention' I wonder?

• I am settling into my new job, although my days have now changed to a Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday morning. The three days in a row regime is not really working out for me. When I woke up this morning my limbs felt like lead weights and my energy level was non existent. There was no way I could make it into work which I find both frustrating and disappointing. My chest isn't even particularly bad just now, so I feel like I should be able to cope and it seems utterly pathetic that I can't even do 3 mornings in a row. However I will see if I can shuffle things around a bit, so I can have a day off mid week again, which seemed to be easier. There is still the potential to reduce my hours to 2 mornings a week, but I am reserving this for when things get really bad. Whatever really bad is.

• I am going to see Swan Lake, the ballet, with my uncle. I used to love going to the ballet when I was young and first saw Swan Lake when I was five. At that time I wanted to be a ballerina, and attended ballet classes. The fact I am not a ballerina is nothing to do with CF holding me back, and everything to do with the fact you have to be good at ballet to be a ballerina. I was better at modern dance, where you got to shake your booty to the beat and wear ridiculous costumes in garish colours. Much more fun. I did at one time however, think I was cut out to be a ballerina. This delusion was not helped by my mum and my uncles blatant encouragement towards my 'dying swan act' (a famous scene from Swan Lake). If you have not seen the ballet, it basically involves much dramatic flapping of arms as the ballerina (swan) slowly falls to the ground before finally flapping her last and dying. A bit morbid for a five year old perhaps, but it wasn't so much the content or meaning, but the rapturous applause from my family whenever I performed it that spurred me on. I am all for encouraging children regardless of their talents, but I feel there probably are limits. I wonder after seeing Swan lake again tonight if I will feel the need to perform one last time, just for old times sake. I might even have that old tutu in the loft.....