It's About Time

You are correct. The time-stamp on this post is indeed around 0430. Not only am I awake, but I am also showered and dressed. I've even done my hair. And I've been awake since just after 2am.

Which sums up this post, which was going to be a "So, how am I doing" kinda post.

From sleeping, to daily life, to getting on with life, to doing normal life stuff - everything is a bloody struggle.

My insomnia is still kicking me three ways to Sunday (and I don't sleep Sunday either) and I get more and more tired, until I crash out mid-afternoon on the sofa, get woken and put to bed in the early evening, and sleep right through till mid-morning the following day. The last couple of nights, Kellie has been having nightmares, fidgeting around, muttering in her sleep and generally NOT sleeping well - which has, in turn, made me sleep less-well.

I highly believe she is giving me a taste of my own medicine, but she claims not to be... But the jury is still out.

Pain-wise, my patches are kinda sorta working still. I say "Kinda Sorta" in that I am still in pain, but it is mostly manageable, providing I don't do very much at all. Which is to say, I still can't not do very much at all. Things need doing, stuff needs tidying, housework needs ploughing through, people need feeding... The "Don't Do Much" rule is so difficult to enforce, so I just sort of get on with it.

Which sucks.

Moods are still all over the place, some days I can be happy and cheery, sometimes completely paranoid, other days I just want to kill someone, and others I just want to sit in bed and sob - which I can't do, as I don't have the time to just sit. For the most part, I put on my happy face and go through life as normal... Unhealthy, maybe, but I can't just fall to bits in a corner.

Obviously at this point, it goes without saying that clearly my therapy is not working. I am also refraining from being completely honest about my physiotherapist and his plan for me, but needless to say, from second one of meeting him, he did not like me, spoke down to me, treated me like something he had stepped in - so all respect for him and everything he had to say went straight out the window. His Gradual Exercise Therapy plan can shove itself up his arse, frankly. I've tried it, it made me feel like complete shit, but if he's not willing to listen and just disregard me, then so be it.

Lucky for me, the few people that have stuck by me through the moods, the moaning, the miserable days - those that haven't just disappeared or decided we can't be friends for whatever reason - thank you. I know I am not the easiest person to get along with some days, and I know that my behaviour or actions might seem like I am just being a complete dick sometimes, but those that put up with it, listened and understand, they are the ones I want around me anyway.

Quite how Kellie puts up with it is beyond me, if I am honest. Quite often, she gets in from work, and because I'm having a shit day - either physically or mentally, or both - she ends up having to sort the kids out, cook dinner and look after me too, all after a long stressful day at work. She's my little star.

And it doesn't stop there... Because MY medical stuff isn't all she is dealing with... No no, she has her own fun mixed-bag of crap going on too, which has also been stressing me out...

You may recall her being ill in the past. First off, her chest/heart going wonky, causing some of the symptoms of a heart attack. Secondly, you will probably remember her Triglyceride milarky - the different kind of cholesterol in your body... Well, back then a "normal" reading was around 2.0, and hers shot up to 21-point-something. Oops, bad.

She was thrown onto all kinds of medication, some of which made her go all strange and odd and funny, so they changed it, and over the following months, her Triglyceride levels slowly came down.

Then - because she's a woman and knows best - she decided she was cured, and fixed and better, and stopped her medication.

A few weeks ago, her chest was going mental again, really screwing around.. So the GP sent her for more blood tests, and that very same day the surgery called, she had to get there NOW. After work, she trundled to the doctors, and low-and-behold, her triglycerides had shot up again, breaking the 21-point-something record, and now at 27-point-something-else.

Oops, MORE bad.

So, a rushed appointment to a lipid specialist was booked, and we sat down to see her and work a plan of action. So we're sat in the hospital, and the following conversation takes place:

Doc: We need to get this down now, because quite how you've not had a stroke or heart attack is beyond me.
Kellie: Ah.
Me: *glares at Kellie*
Doc: And you know, being diabetic makes this worse too.
Kellie: *blinks and looks at me*
Me: *blinks, looks at Kellie, is about to go off on a "Bloody hospital has the wrong notes" rant*
Kellie: *cutting me off* But I am not diabetic.
Doc: *flicks through the notes* Yes. Yes you are. Your blood tests show it.
Kellie: Ah.

Basically, we've gone into hospital with a list of problems, and she has left with additional problems.

And more medication.

She also got told off for taking herself off the medication. Long story short (too late) the meds she is are, she is on for LIFE.

I am also quite sure and of the opinion, that the fact such a high level of stuff in her blood can cause heart attack or stroke, I suspect this is the reason for her wonky heart stuff. The doc has put down the Triglycerides as a Familial problem - even though no one else in the family has it, as the doctor said, it has to start somewhere. So a genetic cock-up is to blame.

Which also means Dom & Molly need to be tested too.

 Yes folks, it is all fun and games in this household. Today and tomorrow, the six of us are getting our eyes tested too... Place your bets on how many additional people will require glasses by the end of the week.