Julie Helen: 'Trip to doctor left me deflated and relieved'

In June, I went to the doctor and asked him to take a battery of blood tests for me.

I knew it had been nearly a year since I had got everything checked and I was feeling particularly exhausted and sluggish. I was in a busy period with work and family life, and I had noticed my hair was brittle and falling too easily from my head. My muscles were hurting more than they should.

As I walked on my two walking sticks into the surgery, Dr Paul was watching and remarked on how well I was moving. I had used every ounce of energy I had to get as far as him, so I could feel the tears sting behind my eyes at his observation.

We know each other well. He gives me exceptional care and he immediately copped my wavering emotions, though I would be mortified to only cry in front of him for something as silly as finding walking hard.

The thing is, walking is hard - too hard, but the ability to do it, even the way I do it, is extremely precious to me, so when it feels extra difficult I feel scared that cerebral palsy might be winning just a little bit too much. I didn’t express that fear, it lives in my head, but Dr Paul, knows my priority will always be how I show up and how I function.

I think maybe we all feel that way; I am just confronted with a different level of fragility than other people might be.

I got a new wheelchair that has a corrective element in the backrest, and that has meant I had to learn how to stand all over again. My ability to stand or not only hangs on a few degrees of twist one way or another sometimes. I have to remind myself that nobody thought I would walk when I hadn’t taken independent steps at six years old; I took them when I was eight instead. I tied an apron behind my back when I was 22. I caught a falling bundle of paper last week with faster reflexes than I have ever noticed, and I didn’t tense up afterwards like I often do. I was able to carry on.

My abilities ebb and flow. Yours might too, just at a more subtle level.

The recent blood results showed many of the regular indicators of health, like iron, iron stores, vitamin D, and liver enzymes were all too low and would absolutely have an impact on how I felt.

I was deflated and relieved in equal measure. I was glad to have reasons and disappointed in myself that I had neglected my nutrition and health enough to let myself be on the floor.

I have no excuse, I know all the right things to do. My mum taught me all about good nutrition and a balanced diet. I think in the first two years of cooking in a new kitchen, I took my eye off the ball and enjoyed all the rich elements of food, just because we could. That control was new and satisfying. I also have a habit of just getting on with things and pushing through, denying I don’t feel at my optimum level.

It feels inappropriate in some ways to complain when someone I love is facing serious cancer. It makes me want to cop myself on and realise how good I have it. That has a double-edged sword, I am lucky to be able to make the changes to improve my vitamins and minerals. I’m on a mission, and it feels like it is slowly working.