Uncoordinated

 I slept badly, unable to do anything to relieve the trapped nerve in my face. I was unsteady on my feet, my hand - eye coordination poor, making it difficult to type accurately. Getting to St Catherine's for the Parish Eucharist felt as precarious as tightrope walking, but I was determined to  go. Holy Cross day has always been a meaningful celebration for me. It was something of an endurance test getting there and sitting still with facial numbness coming and going in a random way,, with fine movement lacking coordination and my eyes not working properly was disconcerting. Just as well I knew the hymns off by heart. When I got up to go for Communion I was stumbling negotiating my way past the pews about and attracted attention to myself. It was embarrassing, being surrounded by anxious faces, concerned I was having a stroke, and needing to reassure people the symptoms were of a trapped nerve. Exercise was what I needed to keep going however. I kept moving as much as possible when I got home, and went out for a walk on the rain after lunch. I tripped in the street and fell flat on my face. The physical jerk of landing on hands and knees reduced the pressure on the trapped nerve and the presenting symptoms subsided, as if I'd been given a thump in the right place like a physio might. I realised I was putting myself at risk and walked home very tentatively. The rest of the day passed with me keeping moving and stretching and twisting to find ways of relieving the nerve pressure and prevent myself seizing up. Meanwhile, bed.

I must get myself an urgent physio appointment tomorrow.