The Princess and the Pea Malady

I’ve had a bout of the Princess and the Pea Malady for about two weeks now and this is my story.

For those of you that have never heard of  PatPM, let me explain.

The disease has it's roots in a common fairy-tale. The story goes a Princess has her princesshood (real word? Probs not. Shortening "probably" = grammar offense? Likely.) questioned by a skeptical mother-in-law to be. The MIL tests the Princess with a pea hidden beneath many a mattress and blanket. The Princess proves her royalty by sleeping on this precarious bed and waking to bruises covering her delicate back from said pea. Frail skin = ability to marry prince (I'm really getting into using =)

The symptoms displayed by the Princess parallel those effected by PatPM; meaning, patients with PatPM are unable to undergo any amount of discomfort without semi-permanent damage to their body.

Now on to my story: Two weeks ago I slept on my arm wonkylike and awoke to a function-less limb. Literally could not use my arm for days. This was only the beginning. 

Last week I went to the Easter Pageant with friends. Upon arrival I was informed that instead of sitting in the white chairs spread before us, we would sit on the grass. You know, why not? According to them (boys) the ground is a lot more comfortable.

Is it? IS IT!

Well it probably is for the usual girl, but not for a girl in mid-battle with PatPM. When I got home I was experience slight discomfort and by morning I could not leave my bed. I wish I was merely kidding. I couldn’t move. It was pathetic.

It took about 2 days till I started to feel like going about in my regular routine (though my mom would argue lying in bed all day is already a part of my regular routine. Rude).

Saturday came and I woke to my brother pitifully shoveling tons (imagine a rather large mountain of dirt) into a wheelbarrow and pushing it to his newly acquired backyard to spread about. I quickly headed out to help which resulted in me spending the day hunched over pushing and pulling dirt with a rake (not an ideal tool for the job) trying to level the ground. It actually wasn’t bad. I even had the naïve thought that perhaps my disease had gone into remission.

Twas not so.

To be fair everyone involved with this project suffered intense side effects, but I like to think I suffered the most. Probably for the attention. You just never know when people will give you a chocolate milkshake for your pain.

Anyhoo, I've come to the hard realization that this malady could be a permeate function in my life (there is no known cure for PatPM). And I need to face the fact that I can no longer jump into situations all willy-nilly like. Now I need to take into account my new fragile existence, but I hope that one day I will be able to find a way to live a happy and productive life.

In conclusion: I live with PatPM, but I will not let it define me.

If anyone would like donating money to research a cure for this terrible terrible illness, call me and I'll make sure it gets to those in need i.e. me.