Moving in to a New House with Chronic Pain and the Best Husband Ever

One thing I didn’t talk about nearly enough in my move in post was how wonderful and amazing my husband is. Moving in was really really difficult and stressful to me. I know it’s a big stressful thing in general, but I really had trouble with it.

I made it through painting without needing pain meds, and that made me so so happy. But IBS was rearing its ugly head and, to spare you the details, I was in the bathroom a lot.

Once we started the actual moving in process, I was in the middle of my period. I know all you ladies understand the gravity of that statement. But my “endosisters” will understand that with endo, a period is…so much more than a period. Again, sparing you details, I was hurting a LOT and getting really, really tired and dizzy. I’m not sure if there’s a term for this, but something that happens to me a lot with endo is I’ll suddenly feel like a cartoon character who’s been hit over the head with a blunt object. My head didn’t hurt, I was just suddenly seeing stars and falling over asleep.

This lovely experience makes taking vicodin / hydrocodone a pretty risky business as that’ll make me actually fall right over. I’m a “fall risk,” you know.

And there were other issues, too. I’m not sure if this is related to any of my ills or if I’m just a weirdo, but they were also crippling me. One is that it is FREEZING COLD. And I am a very small, very cold person. Going outside in the cold to lift the heavy things was making me want to die. These histrionics were magnified by not having hot water, and having issues getting the heater to work consistently.

Without hot water, I couldn’t shower at night. Yeah I could get into the icy water but without the heater helping out that simply could not happen. My husband did say he was amazed at how nice I smelled after a few days of moving and not showering. I guess when you’re small and cold, you’re blessed with not really sweating much. The real problem with the lack of a shower was that I’ve been conditioned to go to sleep after bathing ever since I was an infant. If I shower, I get sleepy. If I don’t, I’m totally uncomfortable and upset and stressed and seriously break down. My family hypothesizes that I’m undiagnosed OCD and that may be true, because I don’t think normal people have a mental breakdown and lay on the floor weeping when the shower doesn’t work for one or two days. I could not handle being without that routine.

So I wasn’t sleeping much either. Not sleeping is pretty bad for you even if you’re the healthiest person in the world. I am, suffice to say, not the healthiest person in the world.

I also had to talk to a lot of strangers. I had to call carpet cleaners, wifi guys, and plumbers. I had to talk to them all in person. I had to go to the store a lot and talk to people there. Talking to people is….hard for me. Exhausting, really. I’ve seen a lot of good introvert awareness things online. Being introverted isn’t really an illness but it can feel like one.

So long story short I WAS A MESS. But what’s really bad is that I wasn’t fully realizing what a mess I was. We were moving in to our first house, and what I saw was an endless task list. I needed to unpack and clean and fix and set up and move and work and there was not one cell in my brain monitoring my “energy bucket” as the picture above so eloquently put it. I was running on empty. I was enthusiastic and setting myself up to crash.

Luckily, my husband had an eye on my energy bucket. He was calculating the energy lost during every social moment I spent with other humans. He was timing my time out in the cold. He was running ahead of me and clearing my path as much as he could, metaphorically speaking. Every time he would say “I’ll bring this all in, I don’t want you out in the cold.” or “I know today was really hard for you,” I’d stop and take stock. He was right, I was about to fly myself into the ground. So I’d nose up and avoid a full on crash. I’d take medicine, take a break, or try to remember to eat something every once in a while. I was still breaking the rules – I’d sneak off and paint when he specifically told me not to or I’d sneak a box away to start digging through it. But without him keeping an eye on me, I probably wouldn’t be typing this right now. I’d be in bed, sick as a dog.

I’m still pretty sick and there’s still a lot of work to do. But I’m so so lucky to have someone like him helping me. He understands my needs better than I do. He stays level headed when I’m too excited to see the “big picture.” Plus, he’s really strong. I mean REALLY strong. The other day I tried to lift a box and I couldn’t even move it. He picked it up, shifted it into one arm, then held out his free arm for another box. WAT. He’s amazing.

He even got me a present, just because the move was hard on me! It’s a ninja turtle night light – because I think the big empty house is spooky at night and Raphael is best turtle.

I got this idea from pinterest to make a wine gift basket for him for our housewarming. We really don’t drink except on special occasions, so I got a bottle for each special occasion this year and attached a poem to it – there’s our anniversary in July, Christmas Eve, New Years Eve, our first fight in the new house, our first dinner party, and a bottle of sparkling cider for whenever our first baby comes along.

I thought it was a pretty cute idea. I try to make up for my ineptitude in adorableness. Hope it works!

11 thoughts on “Moving in to a New House with Chronic Pain and the Best Husband Ever

  1. That was a great idea at the end! I love it!

    I’ve been married almost 17 years. I married my high school sweetheart that I dated 10 years prior to that. We both have our faults, but the way he knows me is amazing. The way you described your husband looking out for me describes my husband toward me. It’s so strange. Sometimes I feel like I give more. And sometimes I feel like he gives more. But in the end, I guess we both give and love and look out for each other. My husband is great for me!

    I hope you get time to fill up your bucket! Take ‘er easy!

  2. Moving is a LOT of work. After a move I felt like I would never get it all done and I hated coming home to a mess. I shoved all the still packed boxes into a room and closed the door. I then could enjoy my new home and conquer those ugly boxes one at a time.

  3. I doubt that anyone enjoys moving even under the best circumstances. I can sympathize with the exhaustion from simply talking to people. Sometimes the other person is so needy and negative, they drain you into utter exhaustion.

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