Christmas is supposed to be a happy time of year, I thought. Since I've had CFS, it's been anything but. Last year, my CFS was pretty severe: I was really fragile, and it was really difficult to move me anywhere, since I struggled with things as simple as walking. So I stayed in the city for Christmas. My boyfriend went home for Christmas and came back on Christmas night, so I did have company for some of Christmas Day, even though for the most part it was a lonely Christmas.
This year, I'll be following my boyfriend home. Given that his parents know what I've been going through, I thought they would be accommodating. Nope. Part of my treatment plan is a very restricted diet, and the plan for Christmas lunch is to have everybody has to bring an unusual food dish.
When my boyfriend rang home to get an idea of what food they have so far - just to see how much of my own food I'll have to bring - he got an earful from his dad about how I'm "not a 12-year-old" and I'm "on this diet by choice", therefore he doesn't have to be accommodating.
Sounds like it's going to be a thrilling Christmas.