21.11.13

Chatting...

Morning Blogland, 

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So this blog is just gonna be a bit of a chatty one I've got a few things I just want to chat about so obviously my blog gets the brunt of it :). 

So after Saturdays shift at work I pretty much decided I couldn't do it anymore, I felt awful after it! I was being a bit melodramatic but I did feel awful and was convinced I couldn't do it anymore. It's not like I even do that much really I think it's the constant getting up and down from your chair and then having to keep up a constant stream of talk that does it. Sometimes even speaking can make me breathless and I can't tell you the amount of "you must be really unfit" looks I get when I have to stop mid-sentence to get my breath back. However all that being said I went out with my work chummies the other day for a fellow work chummies leaving meal thing and they all just remind me of why I continue to go to work. It has absolutely nothing to do with going to work itself or the 'joy' of serving our nations public but the people I work with are just the nicest most wonderful people! They are probably the only reason I continue to go to work. We don't ever really have any issues between us and we all seem to get on, there are moments when you want to wring someones neck but in a brotherly sisterly sort of fashion, it's just that sort of place to work and I love them all there :D. So my melodrama passed and I realised how lucky I am to work with the people I do and I will continue to persevere for as long as I can :)

Monday I had to go to Hammersmith for PH clinic, that passed with no drama and was fairly boring. I'm still ridiculously ill blah blah blah... One really good thing that came out of Monday though was that I officially hit the weight goal that Papworth set me back in April 2012 and I'm actually now a few pounds under it. It has taken me 19 months to lose 10 kilos and I know how ridiculous that sounds because it shouldn't have taken that long but I've been up and down like a freaking yo yo this year especially, and to demonstrate that fact I've been in FOUR different stone brackets this year. How is that possible you might ask well when I had my infection I retained an intense amount of water and was in one stone bracket then I went up to the next one and continued to go to the early stages of the one after that, to my absolute horror. I did however manage to get back down from there and lost 2 stone in the space of 5 weeks if any of you remember that post. Since then I've just been gradually losing it not paying too much attention to it but making sure to cut back on my "crap food" and I've just managed to lose that extra bit and I'm finally in the stone bracket that I haven't been in since I was in school. It's weird the only place I can sort of tell the difference myself is my face because that has always been pretty round if I'm honest and now it's more angular and bit more square. I can't really tell the difference anywhere else although everyone I see who hasn't seen me in a while says "you look really skinny". I'm worried it'll be a vicious cycle I'll get to the weight I want, not be able to tell the difference and want to lose more weight and then start again although if I'm being completely honest with myself I love food to much to probably keep up an consistent weightloss lol. I think for right now I'll just try to stay where I am as that seems like a good healthy place to be for when I get my transplant :). 

And final topic of the day is, I think I've been so busy running round the past 4/5days I got my stupid cold back I feel like someone stuffed my head full of cotton wool and went to town with a grater in my throat. I had managed to go quite a while without using my oxygen and unfortunately I've had to whack it back out again. Every-time I have to use my oxygen there's this small irrational part of self that feels like it's giving in because essentially by using my oxygen I'm asking for help and I hate it. I'm a pretty self sufficient person and I don't like to ask for help, on Monday my doctor picked up my bag for me and carried it and it really killed me that she did that, she was just being kind and does it for most of her PH patients but the irrational side of me was like "does she think I can't carry my own bag? why? Do I look really ill today or something?". The only time I've ever really given in was when I decided to go on my Flolan, that was a massive step for me as it was me kind of admitting to everyone that I had finally gotten to a point where I really couldn't do it by myself anymore, and as much as I wanted to tough it out till the end by myself I just needed a bit of relief and even though the Flolan didn't give me the results I wanted or expected I got to come off of my oxygen and go back to using it when and if I needed it, so that was kind of a win even if it did nearly kill me. But I'm trying to re-train my brain into thinking that it is absolutely fine to be using my oxygen it's just giving me a rest but I think because of years of negative associations with it I'll never be completely okay with using my oxygen, it's just one of life things. 

Chat soon guys 

1 comment:

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