Today, as my title suggests, has been thoroughly miserable. The old throat has been playing up, causing me to spend hours on my nebuliser hacking up lumps of muddy green phlegm. Ick. Not quite what I planned to be doing at the ripe old age of 31.
My husband (aka him indoors) has been in a bitch of a mood. Every word he spoke to me was preceded by an expletive. To be honest, I've had enough. If I thought I felt depressed yesterday, I feel thoroughly defeated now. My decision to go ahead with my self euthanasia plan is still in motion. I don't think of it so much as suicide, more as a merciful end to what has been pretty much non stop pain, psychological and phsycial.
I've crystallised the plan somewhat. As I mentioned before, I'm going into hospital in London on the 24th January. I have to be there at 7 30 in the morning, and as per usual I will be holed up in my cage on the delightful Lennox Browne Ward (aka B Ward). It's not so bad. It's usually nice and sunny, but the ward has a tendency to be either way too hot, or way too cold. Luckily, with my own cubicle, I can throw open the window and it doesn't bug anybody. But I digress, lol....
So I will wait for all the surgeons and anaesthetists to come and see me. I hope that I get to say Hi to Dr Fergusson. She's always been lovely to me, and it would be great to see her and say thanks for everything. I don't suppose she'll have the first clue what I'm on about, but they're used to me being somewhat different. When they've all gone, and consents are all signed, I should have a few hours to myself. During this time I'm going to stash some water and a strip of medication in the toilet (Oxy, baby...). When they call for me in theatre, I will say 'just going for a quick wee...' (TMI, hahaha), and I will take the drugs with a mouthful of water and trot up to theatre. The medication usually takes about half an hour to kick in which means they shouldn't notice anything strange when I go up for my anaesthetic. By the time I'm under, it'll be too late. What I take, along with the anaesthetic drugs, should be more than enough to stop my breathing. And they won't have a clue what's going on. I get a peaceful death, and they get to stop wasting their time on such a lost cause, ie me.
I will of course leave a note on my table, referring them to this blog. At least then they'll know that I planned it carefully, and it won't be anyone of their fault. Sneaky, huh? Of course I feel bad that I'm going to involve other people, but to be honest I am terrfied. i don't want to die alone, and I don't want to die in pain. To just go off to sleep, surrounded by friends (and some of these people have been good friends to me) would be amazing. The perfect end, as it were.
I've been hallucinating again. I had a Terminator moment, when I looked at my hand and it seemed to be made of metal mesh type material. I'm also feeling really paranoid. I'm not sure why, but I think someone has been watching me. Creeeepy....
My time is up, I feel it. I keep having a premonition that I'm on B Ward at RNTNE, and my throat obstructs. It's scaring the hell out of me. I keep waking up screaming, partly because it feels as if my hip/back/leg is literally burning in flame, and partly because of this premonition. So much for second sight being a gift....
Ugh, I've made such a mess of life. Even typing this gives me severe pain in my wrists. Despite the overdose of painkillers I took earlier. Why am I so tolerant to this stuff? SUrely I should be dead/dying by now?....
No comments:
Post a Comment