Paying the Price

So, after much festive munchies yesterday – including a massive Christmas lunch, second breakfast and second lunch – I went to bed with mild Crohn’s symptoms last night. Waking up today at 7am wasn’t hard – been up for a hour or so with miserable gut ache – but feeling ‘happy’ and ‘perky’ (much like I have been feeling for the last two ish weeks) wasn’t easy. Grr, grr grr, ugh, pshh. Being my first big holiday with this disease, I really didn’t know what was going to happen or how my body was going to react to all the rich…

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And on the Eve of all Eves

.. I am sat in festive pjs, under my delightful duvet. Things are good. Actually, things are really good. Things are working and doing their jobs. And for the first time in months and months, I feel settled and myself once more. It is the most surreal feeling; of being so ill and then gradually getting well again. It feels like moments ago, but its been 3 months since my diagnosis and much has happened in those 90 days. Two more hospital spells, two more drug therapies and much of my body and hair lost. My last stay in hospital…

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You know, being in hospital was the simple part. Everything that is afterwards that discharge point, is so complex and complicated I would even know where to begin. All I can say is that it is HARD every day, and not always for the same reason.

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I told a lie today. Instead of being truthful, and saying how I actually feel, I used that ‘oh-so-typical’ line of “oh, I’m doing okay”. There is some truth in that sentence at present – I don’t feel sick: both in the nauseous feeling and being unwell, I’ve eaten and drank today, taken tablets, been out and had social interaction and I’m not terrible cold. But with that, something inside just doesn’t feel right today. I slept late. My body fought me hard last night and it wasn’t my bucket of coffee after my hospital appointment. It didn’t even feel…

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It’s not like nothing is going on, I am just beyond lazy to do anything. Genuinely, I have had little interest to do practically anything for the past six days. Everything is such an effort, taking every fibre of my being to do, requiring everything I have. It never used to be this way, and that continuous thought hits me hard and makes me so very very angry. Angry with myself for thinking that, for letting it get to me and for my stupid body for making it carry on this way. Ugh. So yes, just laziness. Another ‘side effect’…

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