Friday the 18th of May 2018
Guess where I am? No, not B & Q…. the other place, with the sunshine and shit. No, not Tenerife, colder than that. Yes, you’ve got it… Le jardin. Sounds like I’ve been somewhere different, somewhere more exotic and less boring if you say it in French, which is ironic to be fair because I’m not a fan of French things. I know, I know, they make all the best things, the finer things in life but you know what? The finer things in life are not for me. Champagne for instance – can’t stand it (yes even Prosecco), designer clobber? Nahhhh I’m alright with my basics. In fact I’m a crime against fashion and taste for the most part and you know what? I’m alright with that. Surely I like a wee french fancy though? Do I fuck. Shit excuse for a cake. Bread, they make alright bread, I’ll give them that…. I enjoy a French stick but they need to stop with the fucking snails. Dirty bastards.
So anyway, le jardin is the same as it was yesterday but with about 5 degrees more heat which is nice but it has woken up all the bastarding wasps. I’ve just had to retrieve one from the bathroom window and stop another 2 flying into the house to join their now free comrade. Evil bastards are wasps, there’s no one that can convince me otherwise. They know exactly what they’re doing; they shit you up just for fun… flying AT your face and trying to drink your juice. Well in your face you needle arsed winged sadist; it’s sugar fucking free. You’re getting a dose of chemicals, welcome to the human world of FUCK YOU. I’m sure the fake sugar will only enhance your fucked up personality, once you stop bouncing off the walls. Why can’t you be more like a bee? They’re alright are bee’s. They bumble along looking all idiotic and headbutting shit, wiggling their furry arses, creating honey and playing with fairies. They’ll only ever sting you if you’re freaking them the fuck out and to be honest, I’m not surprised they do given some of the dance moves I see when they approach people. Wasps though? Off their head and stab happy. You never see them in kids books do you? Playing with fairies and pollinating flowers.. no… because the whole world knows they’re fucking arseholes. I tell you what, though, maybe the wasp was trying to tell me that I’ve morphed into that kid from Charlie Brown. There’s a huge swarm of flies above my head; like proper swarm. I’ve tried to take a picture for you but it looks like I’ve just sneezed on my phone so you’ll just need to trust they’re there. I can’t even blame the fact that I’m a dirty bastard today because I’ve had a shower and everything…. it was horrendous.
A shower is pretty much all I’ve done today though because, fuck me is it a rough day. Now lads, I’m going to make you blush, but the time for Dr Alban and a set of rollerskates is upon me. Close your ears and turn away if bodily functions embarrass you because; my period has arrived. As always it’s arrived in style and kicked the fuck out of me in the night so in addition to my normal tales of woe and sorrow I have periody stuff to deal with and I’ll be honest; its a massive struggle.It kind of amplifies every symptom of M.E. I have and then throws some gross bits and period pain in for fun. You’d think that mother nature would have realised I’ve kind of had enough at the minute and given me a bit of a break but no, shes a tit and I’m here wrestling with sanitary products and stomach cramps as well as everything else. I think it needs to be the next talking point with the doc though because there’s a definite link between my period arriving and how knackered I am on the lead up to it and the 5-7 days it lasts. I guess it makes sense, my body is trying to do extra with very little energy to begin with but I’m not sure I can handle this midst crash. It probably explains why I was so bad yesterday and why I wanted to eat ALL OF THE THINGS over the last few days though; it’s a relief I’m not morphing into a fat greedy bastard again at the very least. I’m not entirely sure what can be done about my periods that the doc and I haven’t already discussed but it’s worth a second go. So many options are ruled out either because I have recurrent kidney infections and stones (goodbye notions of a coil… any sort of coil), or because they fuck with my hormone levels in a way that M.E. doesn’t agree with (implant) or that makes me grow my bellies back. I’m already on the pill to help me regulate when it arrives but even that’s all over the place so something needs to give really.
Lads you can look back again now. I’ll be back into the docs late next week or very early the following week anyway to get blood results so I’ll ask then. I’m so relieved I remembered about the appointment this morning instead of forgetting again. I saw the same nurse I apologised to on the phone yesterday, and who I accidentally stood up on Wednesday and she got her own back by trying and failing to take blood a few times… what’s the betting this is going to bruise?
Not her fault though to be fair, I’ve explained before that my veins are fucking awful to get to. My mate Leanne’s a big cheese nurse and I reckon they’d open up to her because they trust her…. but they’re right suspicious of anyone else and tend to hide when a needle comes near. Can’t say I blame them.
So we’ll see what the results bring. Fingers crossed they show that although I have sufficient levels of vitamins in my actual blood that my body isn’t absorbing them properly – this will mean I can have vitamin shots every month which may help with my bone pain and at least some of the ever increasing knackeredness. I’m not hopeful they’ll find anything to be honest – I never am. I’ve been having blood tests for one thing or another since April 2017 so the days of me getting my hopes up are long gone. They can take as much blood as they like though; I’m grateful they want to keep on trying to help me, so many M.E. patients haven’t had half the attention my GP’s given me, I’ve been lucky really. I don’t want any more brain scans though; I’m done with all that. I had three in the space of 6 months last year and I’m still not entirely comfortable with the fact I’ve got a small tumor and cavernoma in there – even if they are idle and not doing owt at the minute. There’s something a bit scary about having extra bits in your think box that aren’t useful brainy bits. A bit like finding a toenail in your chicken dipper; it’s not right is it? By rights I could be having them assessed yearly but, well, the neurosurgeon and I are both in agreement that if anything changes with either of them, I’d know pretty fucking quickly without a scan because of where they are. At least this way I don’t need to dread that brain scan every year and then hold my breath waiting to find out the results. We all just wait here for me to drop down dead instead….. I’M FUCKING KIDDING! Calm down. Jesus Christ on a tandem, there’s never going to be any change in them; I’m confident of that and so are the neuro guys. They’d done fuck all in the six months they were monitored so I can say, hand on heart, they’re not doing owt at the minute. Just like me.
Talking of doing nowt; I’m not sure how much I’m going to manage this weekend which fucks me off, because with it being a bit warmer it would have been nice to get out and do something – all three of us. As it stands it’ll probably end up with everyone either doing very little to suit me, or Christiaan and Eli doing stuff without me; not really a win win that is it? It makes me feel right guilty either way and I think it’s the hardest bits to shrug off; you can laugh off not being able to get out of bed, or forgetting words, or putting your cup of tea in the fridge while you shuffle through to the living room with 4 pints of milk instead but there’s no funny side to impacting my wee family. We can’t do loads of stuff because of me; either because I’m not able to, or because I’m trying really hard to lose some weight. Not deliberately, I don’t tell them we’re staying in, or they’re not having any treats; in fact the house has a fucktonne of treats in its cupboard. I’m not talking about them having packets of crisps here or there, more about eating out as a family which actually, some days is within my reach. It’s just sitting down in a different place and not having the washing up at the end. It would be lovely for the three of us to go out and eat together. I know you’ll say that I can always find something healthy, and you’re right I probably could but it’s not why we eat out is it? To have a fucking fruit salad while every other fucker has a hot fudge sundae. I said to Christiaan only this morning that we should have a weekend of just eating when and where we want at some point and I’ll be happy to take a weight gain on the chin that week – we might make that this weekend….
Not tonight though because you and I both know what Friday night in the Mellars household means. BURGER NIGHT. … and now we’re eating together it’s FAMILY BURGER NIGHT. I’ve got to say, when we first started, I was suspicious of Christiaan and I eating earlier in the day alongside Eli. We used to wait until he was in bed and then eat but it was just a pain in the arse with the double cooking and me eating late and then going to bed around 9. So we moved Eli’s bedtime back half an hour now that he’s a bigger boy, and it means we’ve got more time to eat and chill out together. I did think it would probably be way more stressful and way more work, because Eli is a fucker with food, but I’ve been proven wrong; it’s working really well for us so far. Eli seems to be enjoying it, albeit he fucks around a lot more now. Before it was just a case of us shovelling the grub into him or him doing it and then he’d run off an watch cartoons while he had a shite, but now he chats, and sings and asks us over and over a-fucking-gain “What you got Mummy/Daddy?” and we answer lovingly and then ask him if he’d like to try some and he says “noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo” and looks like we’ve shat on his face. You know, like a normal family dinner. We’re getting there though, this week he’s tried a potato wedge, Heck sausages and he’s just actually eaten the burger mix but in meatball form – and that’s a huge step forward for a kid who will only really entertain pasta, peas and some broccoli for dinner.
Maybe one day he’ll eat an actual burger. With a bun and everything. Without there needing to be pasta on his plate as well. Like a proper human being. For now though, I’ll take the tiny victories of morsels of new food where I can!
Sorry it’s a bit meh tonight folks; as you’ve probably gathered I’m struggling a bit and I was in two minds as to whether I could manage, but I’ve chipped away and somehow we’re at almost 2300 words. Which goes to show, even when I’ve done fuck all, I’ve got plenty to say… pity for you!
Here’s some pics of a lucky number 7 boat that just went sailing past, because maybe it has all the winning lottery numbers in it…. innit?
Enjoy your Friday night…. cheers.
- Erm…. Eli ate burger mix! OK so I had to make it look like meatballs but he actually asked for more after he ate the three that was on his plate. The Mellars burger strikes again
- My period arrived so… at least I’m not pregnant (OH HOW WE LAUGH)
- Wide and varied… lets just leave it there
- What’s on the menu Mellars?
- Breakfast…. a yoghurt
- Lunch – Mushroom and red onion tagliatelle
- Dinner – Burger night innit
Are you new round here?
If you’ve just stumbled across TryingToDoItAll and have no bastarding idea what’s going on you should probably go back and read a few blogs from the beginning. Don’t panic, I won’t ask you to read them all, but these few posts will help explain. Oh stop sighing, it’ll only take you a few minutes. Fucks sake.
- Well you’re here, so you may as well get comfy
- Can’t stop M.E. now…. ahmm having such a good time, ahmm tickling your balllssss!
- When are the grown ups coming?
- Major surgery…again?
- You’ve got to be kidding M.E.?
#mecfs #meawarenessuk #mewarrior #silentillness #swearymum