Saturday, 19 November 2011

Wake me when it's over...

I woke up this mroning feeling as if I had a bad dream.  It took me only a few moments of prodding and poking to realise that I was wrong, and what |I thought to be a dream was, in fact, reality.  I spent most of the day pretty much doing what little kids do when they think a monster is chasing them.  I lay in my nice memory foam, feather adorned bed, and I hid under the covers.  I even plugged my ipod in, so I couldn't allow anything to intrude into my head if I din't wish it to.  The difference between the five year old me and the thirty two year old me, is that the monster I am hiding from may be very real.  I really hope and pray with everything in my soul that it isn't anything to worry about.  But the fact remains it could be.  I'm scared.  And I'm in pain.  I didn't realise that the oxycodone that I take for my spinal condition has been masking the pain that I have on the left side of my chest.  And I know eveyrone hates to talk about discharges from body parts, but be aware (if you're not) that a discharge is a symptoms of breast cancer, and you should get it checked out if you develop an abnormal leak.  I've been in denial for a lot longer than any sane person would like to admit.  And it's because I have an irrational fear of being touched by other people.  I hate it, and it's one of the few things in life that will send me into major meltdown.  I only managed to make it through my breast exam the other day because I was loaded on benzos.  I don't advocate that, it's just what I have been prescribed to help me stop getting too worked up generally.  I don't know how I'm going to cope with doctors that I have never met touching me.

And of course, I have this thought in the back of my mind that it really could be cancer.  It feels like my body has been trying to tell me something was wrong for a while, and I did nothing whatsoever about it.  I took the motto 'keep calm and carry on' to the ultimate extreme.

I am so stupid.  While I'm at it, I should maybe admit that I have never had a smear test.  I know it seems reckless, but I was attacked a few times in close succession between the ages of 16 and 22, and it's made me really quick to panic when people do things to me that I don't feel in control of down there.  Luckily, my husband doesn't mind being bossed about!!

My breathing is deteriorating rapidly, and I am really sure that it is the stress of what's going on at the moment.  I don't know if the pain in my chest is caused by my breathing issues, or by a tumour in my breast.  And I don't know if I even want to find out.  I'm feeling very confused today, and as a result of my introverted lifestyloe (which was a result of my mental illness), I don't have many people I can talk to about this.  I have a lovely friend who I've known since I was 13 or so.  She has supported me through every high and low point in my life, and she's the kind of person who would give you the last money in her purse.  I know this because she did.

And there's lovely D.  I met her at college where I was doing my degree.  I coached her through a few modules she was struggling with, she went on to write fabulous assignments, passed with great marks, and now is the most incredibly sweet and supportive friend I could hope for.  If there's ever a crisis in life, she always meets me for cheesecake and hot chocolate.  Not healthy at all, but it does help.  Or maybe it's having a good natter that helps.  Other than those two, I have noone to talk to.  SO please forgive me waffling on.  I will shut up in a few weeks when I hopefully will find out there's nothing to fret over.

I will have to do my ninth nebuliser of the day soon.  I think that it's time for a stent change, so I will ask my consultant on Monday when he can fit me in.  I try not to panic about my airway unless I have to.  The trouble is, I look too calm.  The last time I had a respiratory arrest, the nurses thought I was jokling when I asked for help because I wasn't flapping about.  So they told me to lay on my bed and go to sleep!!  Luckily an astute student realised that me extremities were turning blue, and raised the alarm.  I remember looking clearly into the eyes of some of the nurses I have known for a very long time,  and what I saw in their eyes was fear.  And then I realised I was in trouble.  So my advice is, if you're ever in the same situation, pick up the heaviest thing you can find and throw it at the wall, the floor, wherever.  Bang on the bed repeatedly (or rather, the bed frame) with something metal, until they look at you.  Throw your water jug/coffee mug at the wall.  Do whatever you need to to attract their attention to get help and stay alive.  You can apologise for broken mugs and noise damage later.  Being polite isn't worth dying for.

So my song choice for tonight is QPD by Population 1, and Staying Alive by the Bee Gees.

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