All is well, but dying is exhausting…

The person I angered has forgiven me. He came home, and we ate together as if nothing had happened. This morning I laid my head against his knee and played with my hair. He held me, and I laid my head on his shoulder.

I don’t have an infection. Why my breathing is noisy is inexplicable to me. I keep leaking fluid and wet myself too.

My specialist is in charge. My family doctors completely failed me.


My chest is noisy…

This is dedicated to my cousin Sue.

My chest has been noisy for two days now. My inhalers don’t make much difference. I emailed my doctor’s practice to ask if I could be seen and nebulised but they don’t read emails. I got a stonking email when it was too late, telling me, again, to phone. I replied, again, that the music makes my heart race and talking is not always easy. They do not learn that they are required to make reasonable adjustment.

I am a bit short of breath with this noise. I feel a bit concerned. I am going about my usual activity but get tired so easily.

Martin put up the arch across my path in the garden. I am so happy about it. I have chosen some plants to grow up around it. It is exciting. It will be carefully planned.

I have been made to think I am dying. I am, but in a far longer time frame than I was given to think. I am angry at a certain paramedic who scarred me. And another for his total lack of empathy, kindness, and compassion.


A horrid hospital appointment…

Yesterday afternoon, late, I had an appointment with a consultant of respiratory problems. It was a very unpleasant experience, not least because of the doctor’s manner.

I think he made assumptions as soon as I walked in to the room. He didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. He just summed everything up by how my chest looks now, nothing about the last five years.

I left the hospital feeling despair. I’m lined up for tests I will not be able to tolerate. The consultant dismissed my problems with a patronising and ignorant comment. I mean ignorant as in dismissive, lacking knowledge and understanding.

I got home and made a phone appointment with my GP. Then my daughter and I had a terrible row, and I ended up drinking a glass of wine, completely unable to relax. I watched the fireworks from my window, boats were blowing their horns. I responded to one text only.

I don’t know what time I awoke this morning, I dozed. I’ve ignored texts and messages. I know I’ve blown it with my daughter, although she doesn’t exactly smell of roses just now either.

I don’t know why I am so down. I was confronted by how ugly my body is yet again. I wish I had never survived the four brain surgeries. No doctor understands anything about my condition. I married the wrong man. I have failed as a mother. I feel so surplus to requirements, so useless and unknown.

I am in a very dark place right now.