First of all I'd like to thank Dawn, B and Raven/Missy for their lovely comments of support on my last post. It has meant a lot and I'm truly thankful. Since posting To be honest I've taken on board all advice given, I've given into the tears and I'm actually feeling better for it. I was so scared that if I let the upset come to the surface for any protracted time then it'd consume me and I'd end up in that deep, dark pit of depression again, but no, letting some of it out has released the build up and life is picking up again. It turns out that I was also harbouring a chest infection, which I'm sure was feeding into the emotional misery. I'm still rather peeved that I've picked up a chest infection so soon after coming out of hospital, and when I went to my GP on Monday she was keen to have me readmitted :o( To be fair, this GP is new to the practice, hadn't met me before, and so doesn't know my staying-at-home threshold, but she was concerned enough to offer to pay for a taxi to get me home despite my only living 4 streets away from the surgery! I hate to admit it, but I'd actually driven round because I didn't think I'd manage to walk that far, but this seemed to be something of a relief for the doc. Anyway, I didn't go into hospital, but promised that I would go in if I got any worse. I haven't got worse, but I don't seem to have got a whole lot better either, despite the industrial strength antibiotics :o( I have to go back to one of the other GPs next week anyway for a check on the med for my heart rate (ivabradine), so I'll get my lungs checked again then too ... unless of course I need them seeing to sooner, but I sincerely hope I don't. I'm a bit fed up with all this, and with being so knacked...
When I saw the GP on Monday, I also 'came clean' about feeling low. It was almost a passing comment thing, but she picked up on it and offered to refer me to the practice counsellor. The waiting list is four to six weeks, and seeing as I have an appointment with my psychiatrist on Wednesday I said that I'd wait to see how things go with Dr T next week, but that I'd bear it in mind. And now that I'm picking up a little I don't think I'm going to need it, but it was good to be given the option. It's odd in a way, but I think that being honest with the doc about being down and verging on depression has actually helped to pull me out of it a little ... perhaps because it's not a secret, and secrecy can allow the beast of depression to grow into a savage monster. Reveal the secret and the negative force that feeds the beast is released.
Another thing that was getting to me last week was my vision. I have very little central vision in my right eye now from the cataract, and when I was on the beach last Saturday I was looking around, saw a bird, but then had to close my left eye because the sunlight was hurting it due to the Holmes-Adies Pupil, and the bird disappeared. It was still there, flying above me, but I couldn't see it. Thankfully I have my first cataract removal operation on 21st July so this situation will change, but I'm not looking forward to the actual procedure, so it's a mixed thing. I want to be able to see properly again, but I'm also nervous, even though everyone tells me it's quite a simple op and people they know who've had it done say how brilliant it is. I'm sure it must be normal to be nervous about having it done though, despite its brilliance ... isn't it? Surely it'd be more weird not to be a little anxious...?
I had a call from my social worker a couple of days ago. She's leaving. It's hard to believe that I've had her as my social worker for several years, yet only recently found out that I have a social worker, and now she's leaving. However, she did say that my case will be handed over to someone else and that if/when I need to get in touch with them then I need only phone the disabilities team, so that's positive. The other thing she said was that the increased care package she'd put forward for me has been approved and that it starts next Tuesday. Three times a week someone is going to come in, cook me a meal (and have enough to put in the freezer for other days) and be around while I have a bath as I'm more prone to fainting from the POTS and VS when I get hot from the bath. This is good news, and it'll be helpful, but it's also a very mixed thing to get my head around ... I know it's so that I can maintain independence, but at the same time it's a significant loss of independence ... Does that make sense? I never imagined that at age 36 I'd have a carer coming to my home 4 times a week (I already have a carer come once a week to do my cleaning) ... It's strange how life turns out, isn't it?
I'll get there. I am getting there. Life is coming back to me and I've been enjoying the beautiful song of the blackbird that sings outside in the backlane. I haven't seen it, and I don't remember it from previous years, but this year its musical voice has fed my soul and made me smile, particularly at 3.30am when the night has been long and the bird song begins. Yes, there's still a lot of smile left in me yet :o)