Come the revolutions

Most of you will have gathered how unhealthy I am getting and how frustrated I am at not being able to do anything about it.  Some of you don’t?  Yay, I get to do the rant again.  Okay, so I used to go swimming or to the gym pretty regularly.  With my current lack of an assistant, I haven’t been able to check out my local gym let alone enrol.  It means I can’t exercise at home either.  I’ve never been a saint with food but now I find myself scrabbling for anything I can eat alone – usually junk like crisps and chocolate that’s easy to grab and open without having to prepare it.  The last thing Laurence wants to do after a day at work is keep dragging me to the shop for fresh foods or a pre-packed lunch.  Being on a continuous sugar high is affecting my general mood and I hardly ever manage a full night asleep.

And that’s basically where I am right now.  I have been after a fitness tracker for months and, a few weeks ago, I got one to help me keep an eye on my health habits.  The most popular and prominent feature of such devices is a pedometer which is incredibly useful for those of us who CAN’T FREAKING WALK.  However, it recognises the pushing motion of wheels as similar enough to walking that it counts the revolutions.  I’ve got no clue how many pushes make up one step but I can see that I move around (pushing, transfers) much more than I thought.  The flights of stairs climbed is still a big 0, unsurprisingly.  It never registers me as doing any exercise although most mobilisation takes so much physical and mental effort that if feels like I’ve done a HIIT session.  Actually, I really want to try yoga but can’t anywhere local to Sandwell which will run a class catering for disables so anyone who can help gets to come laugh at my #yogafail.

My resting heart rate tracks at 95-105 bpm which is significantly faster than the ideal.  My sister has roughly the same heart rate so it might be a family thing.  Might be an AOA2 thing.  Is probably a stress thing.  Whatever.  As long as it’s still beating, that’s the important thing.  My oxygen sats are really high and the nurse says that my blood pressure is boringly normal.  Considering my circulation is absolutely appalling, I’m happy I have any blood pressure at all!  This magic gadget also counts how many calories I’ve burnt each day, and if I was brave enough to tell it how many calories I put into this body, that would mean something to me.

My main focus with my tracker is how much sleep I am getting each night and the quality of it.  Over the last few nights I have got quite a bit less sleep than I should but I often make up a bit of it by having a mid-morning nap.  I’ve heard about sleep detoxing and stuff but trying to not crash a chair or transfer without falling and breaking my neck seems like the ultimately healthier option.  Just wish I could go out and tire myself out enough that my exhaustion overpowers my anxiety.  The bit of sleep I do get is peppered with a couple of wakings each night and plenty of restless periods.  It has been quite useful in actually showing me how much moving I do and why aren’t I thin yet?  I’m also looking forward to my next benefits or care assessment and they tell me I don’t need stuff and I can show my app and say ‘this is how often I wake and need help at night’, ‘this is what your cuts have been doing to my heart’, ‘this is what I eat because you think a life of snacks is an adequate substitute for a decent meal’. All light and non-accusatory like.

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