Friday the 13th of July 2018
Fuck me, I hadn’t realised until I typed the date out that it was actually Friday the 13th. Well I fucking never. I mean, Jason V hasn’t even text far less shown up? Eeeesht he’s changed. I guess given the fact I’m half way through the day and I’ve yet to notice that I have incredibly back luck means; I haven’t had bad luck, so I’m exceeding expectations… that’s a first. In fact if you’re reading this, you’ve dodged the superstition bullet too! Well done you *shoulder punch*….. unless you’re reading from hospital.
So, Friday. It’s been a very slow and quiet kind of day, this morning I spent a bit of time getting the house more ready for Christiaan’s rents landing down on Monday. Acht I know. To a lot of people the idea of having their in-laws stopping for a week would be akin to being dipped in hot wax while they were fud naked but I like them being here. I’m one of those lucky wives who have been blessed with very normal lovely in-laws. It’s cracking watching them have fun with Eli and although I’m always knackered I actually enjoy the hostessing bit too. Which is kind of where the good meets he bad because I don’t know where to stop sometimes… all of the time. Pacing gets chucked out the window because although they’re great, they don’t really understand my condition and I’m paranoid about looking either lazy or rude. So I fetch and carry and try and pretend I’m fine, and then I crash and I’m most definitely not fine, and then everyone feels guilty for letting me do so much, and I feel embarrassed and try and put a brave face on …… and so the cycle continues. This time though, I’m going to really try to chill my boots. I’ll cook dinner for us each night but I know that I’m not fit for keeping the pace in terms of days out etc; I’d be a fucking lunatic to even try given how difficult it can be to make it from one end of the house to the other at times. So, it may mean that Christiaan goes out on his own with his folks and Eli and I’m left at home, and you know what? That’s OK, because this time isn’t about me, it’s about them spending time with their grandson and son – they only get to see him a few times a year so every moment is precious. Now, I know what you’re thinking I reckon “All that time on your own with no work and no kids? Bliss – slob out and enjoy it woman”… erm… wake the fuck up Janet, I have M.E. – this is what my days look like anyway! I’d LOVE to go with them. They’ll be going to really lovely places and eating nice food and laughing… I’ll be sat at home with documentaries wondering why my legs aren’t self shaving…. or bald, which would be easier. I don’t blame you for thinking it sounds amazing by the way, but believe me, if you were on month 4 of it you’d change your tune.
Anyway the house is looking a little more presentable now and I think we’re almost ready to receive guests. As luck would have it the window cleaners are telepathic and have just shown up too, which means it will now rain, as is the law. Shame they weren’t here a few hours ago mind, I had a friend of mine round for a wee catch up. Lets call her… Fanny, because, well, she is one. She’s had a rough time this last wee while so I’ve not had a chance to sit down and chew the cud since way before I got ill – we’ve kept in touch mind, every couple of weeks either she or I would talk on Facebook. I knew what life looked like for her and she knows my landscape too. So she came round and we spent the morning gassing over what’s happened where, and to who, and agreeing who the bastards are – it was cracking. I miss that you know. When I’ve been in the house any length of time, I miss not having people to bounce off. I’m not saying I’m a reclusive hermit and I know there are plenty around who would call in on a pity visit, but it’s not the same is it? It’s not the same as keeping in touch with someone organically because you care. Fanny and I discussed it all this morning because she’s noticed that some “friends” have been shite during her strife; only in it for the drama, or the gossip and nowhere to be seen when the chips are down. I’ve definitely been able to pick out my real buddies in the last two and a half years; I’ve had a shite pregnancy, a new born, spinal surgery and now M.E. to scare the shit out of most of my social circle. There are some that have stuck around through all of this though and they’re easy to see – they’re the ones that are here, that meet with me, offer to help with Eli, and keep in touch. The others? Absent. It’s not easy being the friend of someone with drama right enough, I get that, your own life is busy and you don’t really have time of it. In fact, I’m more guilty than most of sacking off friendships, or potential friendships because they seem like they’re going to be more hassle than they’re worth, or they’re one sided but… well some people just wedge a wee place in your heart and that’s where Fanny lives. So listen, Fanny, I know you’ve had a rough ride, I know you’re a weary sad Fanny, but I’m here, and I’m ready to go round the next corner with you….as long as you bring me more chocolate.
Fanny also made it in and out of the house without being attacked by Davie and/or Agnes. Which is an accomplishment to be fair, especially now that they’ve started leaving bits of dead animals on our cars as kind of warning signs that they could kill us…. if only they could open the fucking windows. Now I have no idea what kind of bone this is but I’m praying there’s not a one legged pissed off borrower hiding somewhere on my driveway.
The noise of these fuckers on the roof now is immense. Honestly if it’s not Bear waking us up at daft o’clock it’s a bunch of red neck fucking seagulls hammering out morse code on the roof with some sort of dying crustacean. They’ve started shouting down the chimney again n all which is really fucking annoying – especially when you’re trying hard to speak to the garage on the phone, (who are telling you that yet again your car needs to go back in…) the dolly bird on the phone must have thought I was either devastated or having a break down the way Agnes was wailing down the chimney. I had to drag myself the kitchen to hear myself think. Fucking birds.
The other big news is that I’ve decided, on the advice of one of my more secretive readers to try CBD again. Apparently the Holland and Barrett stuff is like the lambrusco of CBD and I didn’t give it long enough last time round so, I’ve ordered some proper big boy paste and I’ll need about 5 weeks to see if it makes a difference. This is strong shit. I need the equivalent of about half a grain of rice once a day, it sits in my mouth and all of the “natural” goodness builds in my system. Mental innit? I tell you what though, I’m so so hopeful. For the first time in ages, I feel like there may be a tiny wee glimmer of blue sky ahead. Now I know that CBD will not cure me of M.E., far from it. My exhaustion, light sensitivity, confusion, slurred speech etc. will not go because I take CBD but what it will hopefully do is control some of the more serious bone pain. I’ve joined a Facebook page for CBD users, I’ve spoken to people who have taken it and it seems legit. It’s not one of those “potatoes can make your eyebrows grow faster… honest” Google stories, it’s people, like me, who have come together to share experience on using CBD and what the results have been. It’s not sponsored by a manufacturer, they discuss loads of different brands actually but the common theme is; it has the ability to help in a lot of situations. Got to be worth a go right? So I paid my £28 for 3mg, yes 3… milligrams… and I’ll use it religiously and we’ll see what happens. The very worst thing that could happen is that I lose £28 and it’s a waste of time; I’d rather do that any time than go back to those fucking pills I was on last week.
While I was on a roll I also called the M.E. clinic just to make sure they still had my details and that my appointment with the one and only M.E. Specialist Nurse was still in the queue. It was, so hooray, and also, it’s nearly my turn so I should hear about an appointment in the next 3-4 weeks hopefully. I’ve no great hopes that our Keith the nurse will be able to cure me by the way; that’s not what the appointment is for, there is no cure for M.E. but there is a huge amount of advice and guidance out there as to how to make the best of your condition with the life you have, so it may just be that he’s able to teach me something pretty valuable that I didn’t already know. If not, then I’ll convert him to read the blog and we’ll gain another for our crew. 😉
So a positive end to the week despite the challenge of the first half, and I’m now sat in my lounge enjoying some fresh sunflowers from our Christiaan and some sweetpeas I picked from the garden. The house is tidy, I have the burger mix ready in the fridge because obvs it’s burger Friday and Christiaan is only a few hours away from finishing work for a week. His Mum and Dad land down on Monday, so technically I’m going to have 3 extra pairs of hands to help with Eli which is marvellous news because we start potty training tomorrow and I’m struggling with him on my own generally at the minute. What’s that Belinda? “Enjoy this age, they grow up so fast”? Fucks sake, I said I was struggling not that I wanted him to turn into Benjamin fucking Button. I am allowed to say I’m struggling you know.
So yeah, it may be a busy week or a quiet week next week but what it will mean is that I may not be around as much on the Facebook page or blog. Depending on how much I attempt each day I’m not sure if I’ll be able to, or even want to write next week so if I go quiet…. you know the script: I’m dead and Christiaan has cashed in the insurance. Orrrrrrrrrrr I’m just taking some time off and recharging/spending time with family. Like an eggy fart, I’ll be back before you know it.
- It’s Friday the 13th and so far…. I’m not dead. This is good news
- I’m right looking forward to spending some time with my family, inlaws and all
- Fanny came round, I love a bit of fanny on a Friday
- I’ve pottered around today doing bits but I’ve actually achieved very little… the story of my life at the minute to be honest
- We begin potty training tomorrow….. I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. We do have reward charts and stickers and a book on some cartoon fucker called Pirate Pete so we’ll see how that works out for bollockchops. I do not have high hopes.
- What’s on the menu Mellars?
- Breakfast – Raspberries, yoghurt and wee bit of granola
- Lunch – Left over bean casserole from last night and some butternut squash
- Dinner – MOTHER FUCKING BURGER FRIDAY INNIT? BOOM!
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 #meblogging
ME Blogger extraordinaire… not really