As I sat with my GP on Monday afternoon and talked through (ok, wobbled through) the emotional rollercoaster that the last 6 months has been, we finished with the plan to reduce my meds (slowly, carefully and being aware that it’s going to make me feel pretty rotten while I do it) and to look forward to Spring. Some more light, some more fresh air and the time to let the events of the past few month process themselves into a place where they won’t come up and overwhelm me when I’m least expecting it.
Crumpled, teary and apparently clearly shaken when I went to retrieve the children, I wasn’t planning on needing a day to recover from the appointment, nor was I planning on making so many ridiculous mistakes in my work. I felt like a fog had descended and had enveloped me into a fuzzy world of wobbly lines, lack of appetite and tiredness that wouldn’t allow sleep.
I also wasn’t planning on the Cheetah Keeper’s sister’s tonsils getting so infected that she couldn’t swallow and was sobbing in pain. She’s a stoic little girl normally so to complain that things are hurting usually mean that something is properly wrong – but as she dragged herself to school on Thursday (dosed up with Calpol and refusing the offered day off) she was clearly unwell. We then managed an hour long appointment at Great Ormond Street (more of that at a later date) and were sent home with instructions to be at the GP on Friday morning (and a list…)
This GP was lovely, she listened. She’s already done what she said she was going to do. The diagnosis: tonsillitis, strep throat or a virus. She’s being treated for the strep throat as we can’t risk her getting Scarlet Fever again. 10 days of antibiotics, 4 doses a day is unpleasant but definitely better than ending up in GOSH for a fortnight, again. I’ve watched her muscle strength decrease in front of me and whilst she’s back springing around again (and then flopping in a heap) we’re now having to factor back her physio into our routine.
I’ve slept this weekend but I still feel tired. I’m hungry but I don’t know what I want to eat. Jobs have been done and after the last few weeks of ‘interesting’ meal combinations we finally have a full fridge and freezer. I’m also not entirely sure how I’ve done it – why the frozen peas were in the fridge, how I’ve managed to lose full syringes of medicine and why on earth I thought I’d find them in the microwave. I’ve abandoned the idea of trying to catch up on my paid work and am blogging – which my GP and I both agreed was good for me – getting my thoughts in enough of an order to write them down is far healthier than having them spin around in my head in wild directions.
I did manage to get out into the garden on Friday to take some photos of ‘Spring’. Pretty good job considering it snowed this afternoon and the temperature reached a mahoosive 2C. Hopefully the cold won’t kill off the new growth that is beginning to spring from the ground and those little insects who have ventured out have had the sense to think ‘sod this’ and return to their winter hiding holes. If the returning cold weather means we miss out on a ‘proper’ Spring, I’ve got these pictures to remind me…