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| Willow sculptures |
I started
November with the same catalogue of woes.
I stayed in bed all weekend, debilitated with post-viral fatigue and
IBS. On the Sunday, I tried not to get too down
about missing the sunny weather again. My partner also seemed a bit down but I
coaxed him to go out for some air. He
brought me five packs of sweets back!
The IBS persisted
for several days. I found some
anti-inflammatory pain relief pills that I got from hospital ages ago; these
helped slightly. I knew the main issue was a blockage where the
large and small intestines met. My
partner helped me with a massage and I expelled lots of gas which did
ameliorate the symptoms somewhat and made him laugh!
Although I had
resolved to stay in bed for as long as it took, it proved a tedious week. Improvements were slow and short-lived.
It took me three mornings to edit ‘Memoirs’
for October. I had promised myself to
not do too much in one go and stopped when I started to get tired again.
The last
chapter of ‘mindfulness’ involved three meditations - the ‘body scan’, the ‘breathing
anchor’ and the ‘three minute’ meditation - and writing a letter to myself
(which I considered stupid).
I finished a crime
book by a well-known and respected author that I had hoped might give me a clue
to success. Alas, it was full of plot holes
and the writing was sloppy. I resolved
never to read one again. On the plus
side, it made me feel better about my own writing style.
On Saturday I tried
sitting up in the living room but had to go back to bed after an hour. I watched sentimental films on telly and
cried – already depressed, the schmaltz set me off. I tried to distract myself by working on some
jewellery with mediocre results.
That night, my
sleep was disturbed and unrestful. I
felt absolutely terrible on Sunday. My
partner asked: “what have I done?” I explained
it wasn’t him; I had hardly slept and felt worse. He asked me did I want to go for a walk. I was incredulous: “are you for real? I can hardly get out of bed with fatigue, I
feel depressed, I don’t want to see anyone.
I thought you understood”. He said he did and I knew he was trying to
help. But him suggesting a walk when it
was impossible for me made me feel worse.
I cheered up momentarily
at the John Lewis penguin Christmas ad mash-ups. Then I had a slump later on, falling deeper
into depression. I was so fatigued I
could not keep my head up. Unable to
sleep, I lay in a stupor before bursting into tears – I just couldn’t help
it. My partner came to try and comfort
me. In the evening I felt so worn out that
I was sure I would sleep. But just as I
was dropping off, people shouting outside woke me and I had another fitful night.
On Monday I still
felt very low and tired. My partner
tried to get me to talk about what I wanted for Christmas. I was normally enthusiastic about Christmas
and but I couldn’t be bothered to even think about it. I got worried about sinking deeper into
depression and despair. Having tried everything else and being at the end of my
tether, I almost rang the GPs for antidepressants.
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| Christmas Cactus |
But then I had a much better
night and re-considered. I started
taking St Jon’s Wort and stuck to a healthier
eating plan which I felt had started to pay off with improved sleep and
generally feeling better. Things seemed to
be looking up a bit. I came up with an
ending to my children’s story and practiced some sketches in Photoshop and
talked to my partner about some ideas for illustrations. I also managed small spells out of bed and
even a bit of light housework and Christmas planning.
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| Cyclamen |
I took photos of house plants with flowers including a Christmas cactus
which I had moved into the bedroom so I could look at the blooms and a cyclamen
and added some to a Christmas card design.
Because I was still
low on energy I tended to only get up to do things that were absolutely necessary. I needed more fun. I played guitar for the first time in weeks and
revised all the chords and a few of the songs I had learned.
Thursday, I
went to aromatherapy. After a tricky
start due to being in a teeny room and her freezing cold hands, it was pleasant
and she put some nice cream on my face.
I then popped in the bead shop and helped untangle some Christmas lights
and bought a few bits. When I got home,
I was knackered and went back up to bed.
Mid-week, the
central heating started playing up. My
partner reckoned he got it working but it kept going off so I went on the BG
website and tried the trouble-shooter. I
got pissed off doing their job for them and booked an engineer for the Friday
morning. Despite my fatigue and
depression, I made an effort to get dressed and waited up for them. My partner thought I was getting irritated
with him, but I said it was the same stuff and I got a bit upset and he
comforted me.
I kept sneezing
but had no other outward symptoms so thought it might just be the cold house. Saturday morning I made an effort to get up
and dressed again. We went out together
for the weekly shop. When we got back, I
felt viral (the sneezing from the day before must have been an omen). I tried to ignore it, but I got
progressively worse as the evening wore on; obviously it was a mistake to have
a whole day out of bed.
On Sunday we
both felt rubbish. I suggested he had brought germs home from Leeds seeing as I
had hardly been out of the house. He
responded that maybe it was the gas man but I swore that I didn’t go anywhere near
him!
I spent all day
in bed. My partner went out to the
Sunday market and kept us fed and watered.
That night, I had terrible hot flushes and sweated like mad every time I
woke up. I got some decent sleep
in-between and lay in bed late on the Monday morning. I felt a bit better having sweated a lot of
the fever out but realised I had sinusitis and rang the doctors to get antibiotics. I was prescribed double-dose erythromycin (for
the third time in a year which was a cause for concern).
By the time I
mustered enough energy to go out for them, it was 1 o’clock and there was no
dispenser at the chemist near the surgery so I started making my way round to
the other one. On the way I saw my
friend with the interesting ailments. We
caught up on each other’s ailments – her hand was better and she planned to
return to work on Friday but had an ear infection.
That night, I
had bad tummy ache and realised I should have bought pre-biotics as the antibiotics
would be killing all my friendly bacteria.
I experienced bad hot flushes too and the next morning I felt dreadful
again and my stomach was very uncomfortable.
My partner went to get me some pre-biotics before going to work. I then developed chest pains. I didn’t know if the infection had spread or
if it was caused by gas from my stomach.
Mid-week, I
received a phone call with some shocking news which I am unable to write about
here. I was very distressed and
struggled to sleep for the rest of the week.
Despite still
feeling ill, I kept occupied with everyday tasks and immersed myself in
escapism when I was too tired to be active.
I did some writing but came up
with nothing publishable.
Saturday
morning, I was woken from four hours of restless sleep by stupid workmen in the
shed behind the house at 8.15 a.m.! I
felt I couldn’t cope. I cried while my
partner tried to comfort me. I told him I was heart-broken and couldn’t deal
with any of it. Of course he thought I
was being unreasonable complaining about the workmen but I didn’t think
so. It annoyed me that they turned up in
a residential area at random times and made loads of noise. Power tools were the worst, but was there any
need to also whistle, play the radio and shout at each other?
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| Willow sculpture |
I was
determined not to mope and dwell on the bad news. I soaked
fruit for Christmas cake and helped my partner to pickle onions and shallots.
On Sunday I managed to get out of the house. We went into town, taking photos of willow sculptures and laughed at a new off license for people too posh to
go in off licenses.
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| Posh off-license |
On Monday
morning, I tried to sleep in but failed. I rang the doctors to say I didn’t
think my sinusitis had gone and also that I was even more depressed. I
explained to the receptionist that I needed to see someone not just have a
phone call. She replied in an abrupt
tone that I would have to speak to the doctor and I said fine, but would she pass
the request on. She repeated herself three
times and I shouted at her that she could be more understanding when people
were in distress. The duty doctor rang
me back and I explained my two issues and he booked me in for the
afternoon.
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| Creeping Charlie |
In the meantime
I sorted out my winter clothes and rediscovered a lovely fluffy hoodie that I
had forgotten about. I also worked on my
draft blog and sorted through some photos.
I posted one of mystery white
flowers that had appeared on a houseplant I had owned for years to see if
anyone knew what it was – my friend with the interesting ailments replied that
it was a Creeping Charlie.
I saw a new
African doctor who launched straight in with “how long have you had the sinusitis”
and “what are the symptoms?” He
prescribed two nasal sprays which I suspected (rightly) would be cheaper to buy
over the counter.
I then said I needed
to talk about something else and he replied “sorry, this is an emergency
appointment”. I said I had explained to
the duty doctor that I had two emergencies and he insisted that I would need to make
another appointment.
I totally lost
it and screamed: “You’re all useless!
All you can do is dish out sticking plasters!” I stormed out, slammed the door and went over
to the pharmacy. As I stood waiting at
the counter, I was shaking and trying not to burst into tears. The chemist spent ages checking prices and in
the meantime, the doctor rang me and started with “I don’t appreciate...”
I was gobsmacked. He should have been asking me if I was
alright. I shouted at him that I was in
crisis and he had not given me a chance to talk about it. After a heated exchange (on my part at any
rate) he said we obviously got off on the wrong foot and to go back to see him.
I gave him an update on my
depression and the recent trauma I had experienced. I said I wanted proper psychotherapy but
couldn’t get it. He asked “why not?” I said “because it’s not funded in this area
on the NHS.” He brought up the IAPT leaflet
on screen and nodded: “oh, I see”. He
asked me why I didn’t want antidepressants and I outlined my objections. He explained
about a particular SSRI and gave me a print-out to take away and read.
Needless to
say, I was exhausted when I got home. I went
back to bed and did some thinking. I decided
to ring my art pal as I had never asked her how antidepressants had helped
her. We had a brief chat and arranged to
meet the next evening. When my partner
got home he asked me about the doctors. He
said it sounded a bit more informative than previous GP visits.
I resolved to
make an effort in the mornings, even if I had to go back to bed in the
afternoons. I spent all Tuesday
morning cleaning the kitchen – the sun streamed in, showing up all the grease
and dust.
In the
afternoon I attempted to research psychotherapy in the local area. It was a minefield. I found one that I liked the sound of and
sent a query. I got a reply to say that there
were no spaces.
That evening I
met my art pal for a couple of drinks and a chat. I told her all my woes and she told me about
her experience of antidepressants – she was still taking them but planned to
stop soon. She said she felt lots better
but was not sure if that was down to drugs, or the really good counselling she was
getting through work, or doing stuff like art.
We also talked about her recent dating exploits. It was so nice to get out and have someone
else to talk to.
That night I
felt very sleepy, which I put down to drinking two pints – the first beer I’d
had for six weeks. I Fell asleep quickly
and only woke twice during the night. Thankfully,
this pattern continued for the rest of week enabling me to continue to be
productive at least some of the time.
Wednesday morning
I was sneezy and snuffly again. I said to
my partner that I hoped I wasn’t having another relapse. He asked how I was apart from that. I shrugged and said I was just trying to keep
busy and not dwell on bad stuff. I also
told him that talking to my art pal had been helpful and I that might get the antidepressants
then decide if/when to take them.
I was determined
to go on a mission to the big town. I took
flu plus to keep the snuffles at bay and headed out for the train station. My partner sad he’d walk out with me but was not
quite ready so I left him to catch up as I needed to buy a ticket. I thought I had a couple of minutes to spare when
the train pulled in. My partner appeared
and ran through the ticket hall straight onto it. I checked with the conductor that it was the
correct route before jumping on myself.
I went to the bank
to put in my tax rebate (my Christmas fund) and then to the usual boring
shops. As these forays made me very
tired and hungry, I thought I might try eating lunch before returning home but
was thwarted. I tried a small coffee
shop. They had no free tables so I ate a
banana I had with me instead. I then
noticed some sort of food stall at the entrance to the covered arcade. I went over and stood there a good five
minutes but no one came to serve me. I
gave up and got the train back, buying a pasty on the way home instead.
In the evening
I rang mum. My younger brother was
visiting and told me she was fine. When
I spoke to mum, she insisted that she was okay but of course she was in denial
about her own mental health issues. I briefly
filled her in on my situation without the angsty bits. She said I didn’t get out enough and I said
she should practice what she preached!
She suggested I get a ‘little job’.
I had to remind her again that I was in no fit state to work, mentally
or physically.
Afterwards, I
was exhausted and could hardly keep my head up.
I had probably overdone things. Nevertheless,
it took a while to settle that night. I
had jumbled thoughts in my head and struggled to calm my mind down. In the morning we laughed at crap ‘magical
Leeds' - everywhere seemed to have to have a crap Christmas land now,
hilarious!
On Thursday
afternoon I went to aromatherapy. She
did a bit more work on my facial area and talked about using eucalyptus to help
my sinuses. She said my shoulders seemed
a lot better and I replied that must be down to her with no other reason why
there should be improvement.
By Friday, my physical
symptoms had abated although I still felt very tired and crap. I kept busy with some shopping and making jewellery
in-between resting and contemplating the dull, grey, damp weather that had
persisted for days. Saturday was the
same. I baked the Christmas cake and was
very pleased with the result. My partner
cut and dyed my hair before doing his own.
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| Arty gig photo |
Sunday morning
started out bright and I suggested a short walk. I had to wait ages for my partner to get
ready by which time the best of the sun had gone, but we ventured forth anyway. We went for a pub lunch followed by a benefit
gig at the local club featuring our mates’ band. We caught up with a lot of people and were
amused by the dancing antics of hippies.
There was also some rap poetry courtesy of another friend and a couple
of his mates. I took some photos, which came out badly but I
decided one was quite arty.
One of our
friends said that she would like to have a proper catch up over Christmas which
would be nice.
It really
cheered me up to go out and see lots of friendly faces. Inevitably, I was very tired and hoped to get
to sleep quickly, but I tossed and turned again with all sorts going through my
head. When I did drop off, I drifted in
and out of sleep and lay there unsure if I was asleep or awake at times.
So, I ended the
month on a positive note despite a return to the usual sleeping pattern. I thought that my physical ailments had gone;
or had they?...
