Tuesday, 11 January 2011

It's been a while!

Hey there!  It's been a wee while since I've posted.  Tbh, I have no good reason.  I've just been wallowing in a deep pit of misery, debating the meaning of life etc.  A few months ago, my lovely surgeon at the RNTNE all but promised me a revolutionary new treatment for my tracheal stenosis, something that could potentially improve my quality of life absolutely beyond belief.  And then four weeks ago, I found out that it was a no go.  Talk about false promise!  Disappointment didn't even cover it.  I felt as if I'd been offered my life with one hand, and had it taken away with the other.  I suppose, ultimately, s**t happens, but how the hell am I supposed to cope with that?

So I plunged head first into an absolutely shameless and deep as hell depression.  Not that I enjoy major surgery, but I was looking forward to having a life again.  Not being tied to a nebuliser, or within a few minutes of a hospital.  I hate this tracheal stenosis, with the absolute depths of my soul.  If it was a person, I would tear it in to pieces.  If only it were that easy.

So I've been wrestling with a dilemma; to die or not to die?  That is the question...  As my only hope for a decent future is now gone, I have to make plans for a (hopefully) pain free end of life.  I have the means, I'm simply working on the motivation.  I understand that not everyone will agree with me, but I have to say 'to Hell with it' because it isn't these people who will have to endure the blocked airway, and the agony of asphyxiation when it comes my way.  I know what a respiratory arrest feels like; I have experienced it in the raw several times.  And it's scary, and it's terrifying, and it haunts you for years afterwards.  post traumatic stress doesn't even cover it.  And I cannot die like that.  It's sudden, unexpected, slow, and painful.  Yes, I know it only takes about four minutes of no oxygen for the brain to go 'arse, I'm switching off', but those four minutes pass very slowly.

Naturally, I'm scared.  Noone in their right mind would welcome death without fear.  But I don't see as I have a choice.  I'm in so much pain I feel like this is the only way to end it.  I wake up every morning screaming in pain, it feels as if my whole body is on fire.  I suppose you could say I'm burning in the flames of my own private hell.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I'm having surgery again in a couple of weeks, and I have a strong feeling that something will happen then.  If it does, then my final words to the world should be something profound like 'I came, I saw, I conquered'...  lol, what a pompous twat I am!!

I'm pretty safe in the knowledge that noone I know will ever read this, but I'm typing it because I need it to be out there.  I need people to know that if I had the choice, I would live forever.  But this isn't a life, it's an existence.  And it's a painful one.  And I've done it for too long.

Sorry for being so miserable, I guess I'm feeling kinda down today.  I saw my psychiatrist and managed t convince him that all was fine and dandy (in his words, 'plodding along').  It's amazing what monosyllabic answers can do for your freedom.  I came home and overdosed on painkillers in order to get some sleep (oxycodone, yay...).  Then I fought my way back to consciousness and went about feeding the cats.  I can't remember the last time I got to go out, get drunk, get stupid and wake up somewhere unfamiliar.  I feel so bloody old....  It isn't fair, sob...  Ah well, at least I still look 27 even if I am 31.  I'm grateful for small mercies, it just isn't enough though.  I've tried to be happy with what I have but what I want is what I used to be.  And I can't remember who that was, so it's a bit of an impossible aspiration.  Ah well,   it isn't for much longer, eh?

One last question, how do I tie up the loose ends and make sure noone else gets into trouble for what I'm about to do?

1 comment:

  1. Its kinda strange how parts of the world move together. The term its a small world really does not cover it sometimes.

    Last week, perhaps I would have attempted to talk you out of it. Right now, I relate a lot. Obviously I hope that things do improve, but I know of the everyday struggle just to keep yourself safe.