Happy Zombie Day (Essentially What Easter Is About)

Erghhhhhh have just spent easter day in the hospital being pumped full of fluids and potassium and insulin, drips in both arms, oxygen mask, fluid painkillers and anti nausea medicine they usually reserve for cancer patients. I had moments where I was in so much pain I couldn’t stop shaking and a crappy few minutes where I couldn’t control the crying (which I’ve gotten really really good at, I hardly ever cry in front of people anymore). I was blessed by a vicar whilst in recuss (his wife fainted during his easter sunday morning sermon and when she was taken for an xray he decided to come over and tell mum not to worry about me as it was all in God’s hands now. Thanks mr vicar man!), I had my insulin stopped instead of my empty fluids bag (bad seeing as I was on a sliding scale) AND the IV I had in my right arm just randomly FELL OUT.

So basically a standard day really. Aha. Feel like crap but better than the shit I felt earlier, just really tired from all the prodding and body going from high alert to normal again.

I feel like I’m waiting for another email or something from ex mr chop. Waiting or hoping? I’m not really sure. For him to say what I’m not really sure either. Moo asked if he asked to meet up for a drink would I and I honestly don’t know. I would want to I think but I am so wary about even thinking of something like that happening because of all the other times he’s been in touch and its just gotten me hoping and ended with me being upset and hurt again. To be honest I don’t think actually seeing each other or anything was the point of him getting in touch, I literally think he just wanted things to be civil so if in another 7 or 8 months we see each other, we can at least not have to pretend not to see each other. Basically I’m hopeful that him getting in touch will actually lead to something but I’m extremely doubtful that it will and when it doesn’t yes I will be disappointed but not overly surprised. And I’ll get over it just like I have every other time


Don’t Talk To Me, I’m Smarter Than You

My problem is, I have a hard time respecting or listening to someone if I feel like I am smarter than they are.

After letting loose a lot of what I’ve been holding back from mum the other day; the dark stuff, the hole, the bad thoughts, I think I scared her and she badgered my GP for an emergency appointment today where I then got referred a few hours later to go and have an initial assessment by this counsellor guy and was given a prescription for some anti-depressants. Ergh. Anyway, I relented because something does need to be done and I’m not helping the situation by hiding in bed all day.

So off to the counsellor man we went. My appointment wasn’t for an hour and a half or so but I knew if I went home I would never go.

He was a big fat pile of wank who talked at me, didn’t listen to what I was trying to say to him, tried to connect with me in the most intolerably patronising way, didn’t get me at all, didn’t seem to want to try. Told me he didn’t seem to think I had any serious issues and got treated as if I’m just in a bit of a slump. Within ten minutes of talking to him I had already shot mum a look as if to say ‘him? ummm no’. The fact there were so many openings for him to really understand what issues I’m going through which he just sort of ignored, even though they were so obvious, made me think a lot less of him and there went the respect. In the most polite way I could manage, I told him I wanted to talk to someone else and have a more in depth talk cause all we did today, all that he judged my situation on was a really short snap shot of time which achieved nothing. So now I am going for a generic assessment with someone who hopefully know what the fuck they are talking about. He told me that if I haven’t heard from anyone in a few weeks to ring. I told him that isn’t acceptable, that I am not safe to wait any more time and this needs to be done now.


This is me fighting to get myself back. I’m not taking any shit anymore, I’m not waiting months for things to be sorted. I’m done being patient, I’m done risking more of my health and sanity for the NHS basically. They might want to chuck some pills at me and say good luck but I actually want to get better and I’m not accepting that as a fix

Tired Of It

I am so tired of the doctors and the NHS. I have been having test after test, blood samples after blood samples. I have been waiting patiently to get anything sorted, to have any sort of results and I thought today would be it and that I would finally have the set of results I NEED to be able to move on to the next round. Were they in? No of course not. And after some investigation apparently due to my last freaking stupid name being misspelt, I have a random hospital persona thats been messing up with my results as results have been sent for that ‘person’ and being lost in the great NHS hole. Not only that but my specialist nurse who I’ve had for the past 10 years, who was investigating some pretty personal things for/with me and who I haven’t been able to get hold of for the past month or so, has bloody left the hospital and gone away to a new hospital without saying a fucking word!! I was so hurt, shes been my nurse for years, she was one of the only people at the hospital I trusted and she left without even a goodbye let alone a warning that someone new, someone I don’t know and have never met will be taking over my case.


Its hard to give a shit about your health, about fighting the shit when the professionals who know how serious this shiz is don’t give a fuck and the people you trust just vanish. I give up though, I’m not doing the same tests for the fourth time, I’m not waiting around for more results that are never going to come. If the worst happens, the worst happens and I just don’t care anymore. I would rather live without constantly being scared and nervous and frustrated about results and tests.

I’ve tried going to my GP, I’ve tried to get counselling, I’ve tried asking for help and its just not there. I’m not trying anymore, I’m to tired. I’m not going to give up on myself but I am giving up on believing that there are people out there to help me. I have me and thats just going to have to be enough. I have mum and my people and thats what keeps me going which is good, having a purpose is good.

Discouraging yes. But I’m not being dragged down by it anymore