I was smart enough to realize yesterday that a three-hour raid in the evening would not be in my best interest. I logged in early evening anyway, just because I like being in WoW, its soothing to just have it there, on my screen. As every single person on my friends list was raiding, I decided to find something doable to do. I thought a quick WG attack would be twenty minutes well spent, and then maybe I’d do a few dailies and/or work on my bear spell rotation and key bindings. This also meant I could afk as much as I needed to and stop whenever I felt tired. Then something odd happened. I forget that when I come down with a bug its not the same as when hubby comes down with a bug. He feels a little under the weather for a day or two, but he still goes to work, he still raids even though his dps drops quite a bit and he sleeps and complains a little more than usual. I expected more of the same for me when I got sick a day after he did. But no such luck. I get the fever that keeps climbing and the raw throat and bleeding lungs, how quaint. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that I also get more bendy joints. Achy sore muscles don’t do their job very well to hold bones in place and has my ligaments don’t work, it all falls squarely on the shoulders of my muscles to keep joints alligned. Tired, achy muscles take sick days off.
It always takes a while for my brain to catch up to big things. I had pressed a good few buttons before I noticed through the lag that my healing was not what I would expect it to be. It took a little longer for me to realize exactly why and by this point, I’d been mashing a good few buttons trying to fix the gaming issue. Fevers make me more numb than usual and looking at my gamepad to see why the keys were not working made me realize that I’d just dislocated a joint on every single finger as well as my wrist. I put it back in, hit my lifebloom button only to have it happen again. Oddness. It normally takes a dozen or so presses for something to dislocate, not one. I put it back in and tried a different key with a different finger. Same result, one press and its out. I spent the 20 Wintergrasp minutes trying to make sense of what was happening. I couldn’t press a single key once without dislocating joints. This was bad. Chris noticed when I started crying. What’s up? he says. I say, ‘Look’ and press a key. He frowns, then glares, then grumbles, ‘then don’t do that’. Right. He comes over and puts Lil back in Dalaran. I cry more. There is something completely powerless and helpless in not being able to make my character move where I want it to. I have been here before, but a break tends to fix it. I don’t think a break will fix this unless its a very long break.
Splints go on, speech recognition software need to take over completely and as Chris puts my character in Sholazar where there’s a nice view, I try to stop crying. I hate when I cry and he’s on vent and I’m not sure if his guild is listening to me sob in the background. How mortifyingly embaressing. I keep pushing a button to see if I can make it work, but my finger dislocates before I have pressed it down enough to make it work. Chris tells me to cut it out. I slide down on the couch and listen to my audio book whilst looking at the ocean view on my screen. I rely a little more than usual on friends to keep me entertained. There’s few things that cheer me up more when I can’t raid than someone that whispers me update reports on their raid. Nothing huge, just one liners ‘clearing trash to Ignis’, ‘FL inc’, ‘Kologarn, just wiped’, ‘one-shotted’, ‘take three’, ‘stupid LB killed me’. WoW is like one of my favourite books, only more real. It also comes with /hugs that I wouldn’t trade in for anything else in the world.
I’m not sure when I’ll be able to press keys again and it’s an upsetting thought. Usually, ut’s difficult to gauge what one can do without doing damage. I can put up with a certain number of issues for three hours and be in a raid and love being there. I can leave the wheelchair at home when we go out and just relocate joints that pop out and hope they stay in long enough so that we can get back to the car without Chris carrying me back. Those are difficult decisions to make, stopping when technically you could just about maybe possibly do something. It’s much harder when the options aren’t there. Sometimes walking is difficult, but sometimes I have to have the wheelchair. Sometimes playing is difficult, but sometimes its impossible. I can’t play if I can’t press the right keys at all. I can’t play when neither the joystick or mouse will work for me at all. I can’t play when I can’t even get the autorun feature turned on and off deliberately. I can’t play when just sitting somewhere ends with me knocking something because a muscle jerked and poor Lil is now in the river and can’t get out. Good thing she’s a druid and likes swimming.
There is being sick and then there is being sick on top of being sick. The things I normally do with great difficulty become impossible. We pull the wheelchair out to get from the lounge to the kitchen. I log out of warcraft and load my iPod with a dozen books. I build pillow mountains and I’m allowed to nap whenever the opportunity arises as I need the sleep. I live on soggy toast, mash potatoes, ice-cream and fruit salad. I let emails back log and try to find a quiet place in my head where time stops and I can just relax and get better. I can do that. Even when you stop being able to do the things you can normally do, there is always something that can be done. I know this is temporary, it’ll get better, I’ll get better, but whilst this is the way it is, I’m planning to make the best of it. Sometimes pushing through is the right thing to do. Other times, like now, there’s a difficult grace in accepting when you’re beat and being a gracious looser. Until the next round.