Life Is Manic

If you pay attention to some people on the Internet, you will see their online presence ebbs and flows like a tide. The more astute of you will know why, whereas some people - ie, me - don't tend to tell the world they are ebbing nor why.

Let me start over. As a few of you have noticed, the online presence of yours truly has been somewhat lacking over the last few weeks. And the main reason for this is... er... Well, just life I suppose.

Life in this house, that is.

Nothing is ever easy, nothing is ever straight forward, but things seem to be on an upward swing. And, if you pardon moi francais, it's about fucking time.

You will see from recent posts, with the exception of "Interesting News" (Drunk Driver), or celebratory news (Mothers Day and Tamsyns' Birthday) the general posts have been me feeling ill, or in pain, or some variation of a combination.

Well, I'm pissed to say, things didn't actually get much better. So last week, drunk driver disturbs my pain/headache induced sleep. I spend the next few days alternating between poorly and properly poorly. The kids came home Wednesday, and at that point, I was fighting off yet ANOTHER migraine.

Yes, I get them a lot. No, I don't know why. Nor does the doc. Stress? Maybe. Tiredness? Possibly. Just random occurrences thanks to my physiology being crap? Most likely.

So, Wednesday, Tamsyns birthday, she wants Chinese, so we get Chinese. Om nom nommy. Being that my head is splitting, not long after putting the squids to bed, I too go to bed.

And have a full-on crap night.

Now this might sound really silly, but on Monday or Tuesday, I bit my tongue. Hard. Proper grinding teeth through the side of the tongue. Ow. Over the next few days, it got VERY sore, I was using salt, cool stuff, warm stuff - I could hardly eat and even had to take out my tongue bar.

So back to Wednesday night - I had a really bad night, tossing and turning, my tongue was agony. I hardly slept. Just like old times in fact.

Thursday I felt proper rubbish. For one, I was sleep deprived, Two, my head was still trying to tear itself inside out. Three, my tongue was hurting, and finally, Four, I was in lots of pain. But, being me, I soldier on.

Thursday night, I stay up till midnight, get up at six Friday morning, and rolling out of bed, I feel horrible. Burning temperature, head screaming, tongue on fire. Kellie goes to work and isn't coming back till Saturday morning, so me and four kids. I manage the first school run, bumble into town and buy a few odds and ends, get home, put stuff away and flop out on the sofa. I sleep from about 11am till 2pm, and do the second school run. Of course, the sun is brilliant, the sky is perfectly clear - it's a lovely spring day.

At least, it would be if I wasn't trying to hold myself together from staggering, crying, puking or just sitting in the corner...

Tam and I get home, the boys follow soon after, and Mo turns up not long after that. I, however, can hardly move. I manage to give Jaysen my wallet and tell him to get fish and chips for the kids, and I proceed to pass out on the sofa.

And I do mean "Pass Out" I have no recollection of laying down, of Jaysen getting back in, of the kids having dinner... The next thing I know, my "Take your meds!" alarm is going off and I wake up to a cold dark house at 7pm.

Thankfully, the kids are all upstairs in their rooms - the girls watching DVDs and playing, the boys doing whatever boys do when zombied out on the pretty box with lights. I get the girls to bed with a film each, instruct the boys to sort themselves out, but don't be up till late. It's just after seven, I'm going to bed.

Kellie has had a long day at work. Because of the nature of her company (Asbestos) they have to be accredited by a professional body, and they have been in for two weeks. Friday, they were done, so the office went out to party hearty, so Kellie went back to Canvey with Kerry and they went out from there, and finished up there later that night. I had been texting her on and off all evening, but despite her saying "I'll come home if you need me!" I had no intention of dragging her away.

19:15 that evening, from the edge of our bed, I text her to tell her how rough I am feeling, that I feel like I am going to be sick at any minute, and am going to bed. I let her know the kids are all OK and sorted out. 19:20 I managed to take my painkillers and anti-migraine-meds (which have done jack-shit so far, but you know...) and fall backwards onto the bed, trying to work out how to take my socks of. 19:25 that evening, my head is in a bowl and I am being sick.

I should point out, I do NOT like being sick. Not just "I dislike it" but I really hate it. My body goes for the full gusto of tears and snot and nasal blockages... But the sound I make... It's like a bear being stabbed in the butt-hole with a burning poker, while simultaneously being punched in the throat. To date, Kellie has not had the pleasure, but the kids have... Jaysen has dealt with it on many occasions, and has helped me off the toilet floor in the past.

So, at the sound of the bear being physically abused, Molly comes running - her room is beside ours - and she wants to know what she can do. I can barely think straight, have a cup-a-soup making a repeat showing (with croutons!) and my body is retching like it's the new black.

Molly calls the boys, who come running; Dom armed with a glass of water, Jaysen armed with a loo roll.

Now, I KNOW I only had one cup-a-soup. One. So how did I fill nearly a whole bowl?! Baffling.

But I swill the water, blow my nose, dry my eyes, and the boys help me to the bathroom. I deposit my bodily fluids down the toilet, Jaysen washes my bowl out, and I brush my teeth and clear the "Nasal Blockage"

It smelt like crouton, but didn't look like it.

I am then helped back to bed, mutter about settling Molly, thank the three of them and... Well, I'm not sure what else. I woke up at 03:20, on the wrong side of the bed, with one arm inside my tee shirt. I seem to recall trying to take it off when I got back into bed, and seem to remember laying down in a huff, but that is how I stayed for seven hours. I hadn't moved, rolled over, adjusted the covers, nothing. Proper passing out once again.

I note that while my head is still sore, it's not about to explode. As strange as this might sound, being sick is usually the best remedy for a migraine. I also noted the main "symptom" of my migraines - that is, the constant smell of shit - had gone. I noticed a message from Kellie on the phone telling me if I am poorly she will come home, but I am glad I didn't call her and mess up her evening. She wouldn't have been able to do anything, I wasn't dead nor dying, she would have just had to run away from me puking, and then patted my unconscious body.


So, Saturday morning dawns bright, sunny and... Hmmm... Tummy ache. The headache is "just" a headache now, but my tummy feels funny. I can only assume it's from the retching and doubling over being sick.

Thirty seconds later, I decide I need to go to the loo.

Exit stage downwards.

An hour later, Kellie texts - she too has an upset stomach. Great. Not long after that, she gets home, and we both feel rough, but luckily for us, the kids see we're both poorly and hide out. The girls play out, the boys do their zombies-in-the-bedroom thing.

Kellie and I alternate between the toilet all day, not eating, just drinking lots of water. At about three, we risked a bag of crisps, and wonder of wonders, they made us feel better... So we opt for a high-carb dinner of Fish & Chips.

An hour later, I feel right as rain. Still have a muzzy head, but meh. Kellie, however, is still poorly. She's hot, then cold, shivering, then sweating, aches and pains and all sorts of sore bits and hurting bits. She spends the evening alternating between snoring on the sofa, and reading her Kindle. I sort the kids and play WoW for a little bit.

So today. Today I wake up, no headache, no tummy ache, no need for running to the loo, nothing. Kellie dawns bright and bleeeeergh. She is not a well girl. Were she snotty and coughing, I'd pin it on a flu bug (not ManFlu, obviously) but she is not healthy. As seems to be the case when Kellie is ill, I convince the kids today is a good day to exit the house, and we do just that and head over to the lakes. For several hours we wander around, watch the newts in the pond, annoy the geese, piss off the fishermen, skim stone, and play in a stream.

With a leech. But that's another story.

After several hours well spent, we trudge home - wet and muddy - get changed, then I have to take Jaysen & Tamsyn back to their mums, so the three of us trudge across Basildon, I drop them off, then I trudge back again, via the shop for bread. I get home and am DEAD. I have felt like hell all week, but now I am back to my usual Hellish Nightmare Of Pain. Legs, back, arms, hands... No, I don't like the pain, but at least these pains I am used to.

This evening, we got Dominic & Molly to bed early, and finally, after a shitty hell of a week, Kellie and I got to sit together quietly and watch a film. She's still poorly, still insistent she's going to work tomorrow, but she's spent most of today alternating between sleep, feeling sick, feeling rough and, er... No, that covers it actually...

So there we have it. At the risk of putting the mockers on it, I have no headache and my tongue is better. This evening is just my usual pain and hurty bits and aches - which means tomorrow I will feel like crap, but it's controllable crap. Even if Monday IS a shitty busy day.

There are more posts to follow - I was going to catch up with everything in this one post, but decided it was already too long, rambling and puke-filled.

Yes, I am alive (again or still...) and hopefully the crappy stuff of the last few weeks will finally do one.

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2 Responses to “Life Is Manic”

Adullamite said...

At least you still live, sort off!
Hope things improve this week.

Anonymous said...

I am always relieved to know people are alive and as well as can be expected under the circumstances.

Keep on keeping on