Shrill drills and other stories…

I was awakened this morning by the whine of a very high pitched drill. I cringed and felt the pain it causes in my nerves. It went on for too long.

I have started on antibiotics again. Yesterday, I heard fluid in my chest. I will continue with steroids too. I almost called an ambulance, but I feel in charge now. I am trembling and have a temperature.

My daughter seems to be the poster girl for her company. She is doing well in Oxford, and it seems she would like to stay there.

This causes me a huge dilemna. I don’t want to be parted from her, with only visits, yet I don’t want to leave my garden or have the hassle of moving.

If I move, it will be to somewhere that will give me palliative care. I cannot go on like this, surely?

I am so grateful that the neighbours with the windchimes left. Had I known that mentioning them here would get rid of them I would have doneit sooner. What cruel, cold, vile people they were to deliberately cause me pain. I can only pity them.

I am terrified…

The pain in my hip has returned. It is no longer a biting pain that come and goes when I meditate on it. It is pain that brings tears and travels down my leg. Yesterday I prepared no food. I drank the protein drink that I use to minimise carbohydrates in my diet.

When I stand, the pain is terrible and I stagger until my leg obeys my brain and then I walk awkwardly with pain at each step.

This started at the end of last week. It went away, and only niggled. On Monday, when I helped the young woman, I was not aware of it and it was not until Thursday that I felt a need to do something, by my surgery was closed. On Friday it was much better but now I am so scared.

I had my first hair appointment today. I was really worried about how I would cope. I didn’t cope well. I literally hobbled in and to the sink and back to the chair.

The mirrors make me hate myself. I get by in life by not seeing what I look like. I came away ready to crawl into a hole, except my hair looks great.

The nerves down my leg hurt most of the time. My hip at times hurts just motionless, and as I type. Part of me wants to fall so that an ambulance will come. Initiating anything medical or surgical terrifies me.

There are so many times I wish I had died when I had my brain surgeries. I hate my body. Although it was not as bad as it is now, I have never had the joy of a beautiful body. Tall, slim, and athletic. Wearing anything I wanted to.

I want my Dad. I want him to cuddle me.

In the salon, The Scientist by Coldplay came on and I feel so relieved that Mike chose to reject me. Who would want me. And yet I long to to have a hand to hold in the night.

Why is life so cruel? Oh God that I have loved and served, why is this happening to me?

Haven’t I suffered enough? Is there no end?

I am terrified and don’t want to give up my home and garden.

Ebsworth well and truly broke my laptop…

I’ve been using my phone to write my blog since an alcoholic broke my laptop. I was still able to use it to look at websites, and read emails but that was about it. Now I can’t even do that. I know absolutely nothing about computers, laptops etc. And I have no money to repair it or replace it. I am going to have to insure whatever gets repaired or replaced.

A poem of mine been published by The Voice. I have been trying to copy and paste it here, but I need my laptop to do that. The Voice is on WordPress so if you really want to read it, put in that name followed by mine. I actually hate reading my poetry after it’s been published. I also heard that I hadn’t won a prize that I had entered, but I did get a lot of very positive feedback.

The pain I have been suffering has grown worse. Last night I went to bed early due to excruciating pain in my legs. Nerve pain, which feels like you’ve climbed ten thousand stairs, so like an ache but not.

Today I was in my bathroom and I began to wonder if the wind chimes had been taken down as there was silence. Just as I dared to hope that they had been removed, the ting-tang=ting started again and I retreated my bedroom in tears.

I have started to look for solicitors to take legal action against my neighbours, their letting agent and my former neighbours.

No one should have to live like this. Ebsworth judged me for it and the irony is that he is partially, if not totally responsible for it.