since i blogged here; i intent to fix this.
this blog also turned into a bit of a rant of shit kinda place but i need to change that.
it will be my inspirations for my hopes for the future place. there may be locked posts, but if i know you then i will give you the passwords. please do ask
i have a home and it is in Ireland, it is a long way off in time, but I'm working my way back there
Saturday 22 August 2015
Tuesday 13 November 2012
Bit of this, bit of that, lots of the other
It's been a couple of months since I blogged, I've had much on my mind. The last time I was here, I was rather heart broken and it doesn't get better, I just get better at hiding it. Pretending that I belong and it's the right thing and all that. I've also been trying to chase up various hospital things, I've seen a gynaecologist and a neurogastroenterologist, the later wants the notes from the former and been requesting them since July, the local hospital where I've been seeing the gynae have claimed there are no notes, I'm due to see the gynae on Friday with a view to discussing what the neurogastroenterologist has said, but he hasn't said anything because they haven't had my notes. I just don't know what to do, my GP said he cannot help me any further, the gynae want the out come of the neurogastro and the neurogastro haven't got one because they have no information ... But I'm in pain, pain the doctor doesn't know what to do about it, pain the neurogastro was supposed to be investigating, pain the gynae won't even acknowledge and only what to deal with the obvious signs of a problem, pain I cannot think through but still have to try to run a house and family and life through, pain that makes the Tuesday morning 1 hour 45 mins long school run daunting and best, terrifying at worst, all the while trying not to run myself off the road and hide it from my children. Pain that makes me quiet and short tempered because trivial shit just irritates me and I'd rather not be subjected to it, pain that I try and block out only to be repeated told in a loud and condescending voice that I am making other people miserable by my failings as a woman and person. I'd be sorry if it were really my fault, I've done the sorry thing though and it and it was just a spring board for more guilt trips, more attacks on my personality and forces me further into my own head space and ignoring world outside my body.
Due to the lack of care within the NHS I have discussed with my husband and with my clinical psyc from the pain clinic that I am attending, that I no longer wish to pursue matters with either gynae or neurogastro, I feel that the stress of it and the lack of understanding and treatment is actually making my life worse. My husband, naturally, choose this as another spring board to launch into an attack of my selfish nature and how he has done so much for me in coming to appointments (at his own insistence) and at home (his home, here in England where he chooses his family lives) and how ungrateful I have been to throw it back in his face by daring to suggest that maybe it isn't what i want? This came hot on the heels of being in pain and expressing how upset I was that my follow up to my consultant was not getting anywhere and felt I was wasting my time. It has been 11 months since it was suggested I was referred to him, which was after I'd been lost in a system for 4 months due to an 'oversight' ... Another one ...
In march it will be 4 years since I first pursued the fact that I have been suffering for many years persistent abdominal pain. I am bored of this, I am bored of waiting and not knowing and waiting more and still not knowing and being told that it all takes time, but it isn't taking anyone else's time, they aren't doing anything, just my time, just my life, just sucking everything from me with fear of going out, fear of being upset by it because it will get me nowhere just on a downward spiral of depression for which I shall be duly punished by my husband and children for failing to give them what they expect from me. On my better days, when I grab the chance to go for a coffee or orange juice with friends, usually that I haven't seen in a long time, it comes back to bite me on the arse, you never want to be with us hatt, you never go out with me hatt, you're always out with your mates hatt, whenever you go out daddy always is angry at us, from one of them. I'm in a catch 22, psyc says make an hour a day for yourself, try to go out with your friends when you are feeling better, when I do either of those I have several hours of being shouted or moaned at, I have all the little tasks that I may have suggested someone else do to do, or I may just have to have children around me 24/7 for the next 2 weeks, or maybe all of the above. I never know.
It's what my husband refers to as the benefits of a relationship with him.
Due to the lack of care within the NHS I have discussed with my husband and with my clinical psyc from the pain clinic that I am attending, that I no longer wish to pursue matters with either gynae or neurogastro, I feel that the stress of it and the lack of understanding and treatment is actually making my life worse. My husband, naturally, choose this as another spring board to launch into an attack of my selfish nature and how he has done so much for me in coming to appointments (at his own insistence) and at home (his home, here in England where he chooses his family lives) and how ungrateful I have been to throw it back in his face by daring to suggest that maybe it isn't what i want? This came hot on the heels of being in pain and expressing how upset I was that my follow up to my consultant was not getting anywhere and felt I was wasting my time. It has been 11 months since it was suggested I was referred to him, which was after I'd been lost in a system for 4 months due to an 'oversight' ... Another one ...
In march it will be 4 years since I first pursued the fact that I have been suffering for many years persistent abdominal pain. I am bored of this, I am bored of waiting and not knowing and waiting more and still not knowing and being told that it all takes time, but it isn't taking anyone else's time, they aren't doing anything, just my time, just my life, just sucking everything from me with fear of going out, fear of being upset by it because it will get me nowhere just on a downward spiral of depression for which I shall be duly punished by my husband and children for failing to give them what they expect from me. On my better days, when I grab the chance to go for a coffee or orange juice with friends, usually that I haven't seen in a long time, it comes back to bite me on the arse, you never want to be with us hatt, you never go out with me hatt, you're always out with your mates hatt, whenever you go out daddy always is angry at us, from one of them. I'm in a catch 22, psyc says make an hour a day for yourself, try to go out with your friends when you are feeling better, when I do either of those I have several hours of being shouted or moaned at, I have all the little tasks that I may have suggested someone else do to do, or I may just have to have children around me 24/7 for the next 2 weeks, or maybe all of the above. I never know.
It's what my husband refers to as the benefits of a relationship with him.
Sunday 9 September 2012
I have been home
Paul thought it would be a lovely idea for he and I to go back to Ireland for a few days, Friday to Monday a couple of weeks ago, I am still grieving.
We enlisted lovely Leigh and ma boy Troy to look after the minions and another friend had said she'd take Eden so as to lighten Leigh's load and keep her out of trouble ... That gave Eden the excuse to turn into the manipulative ... Female that she has worked so hard to perfect ... She biggedup what a boring time she would have with them and how she didnt know anyone or have anything to do ... And said friends didn't want to do anything that she didn't want to. Begs the question, who's the adult? Guess it ain't me, because I'm rather hurt by it and felt that I needed to return home ASAP. As a result, my stomach that I had been all but ignoring fairly successfully, stepped it up a gear and proceeded to be rather horrible for the next 48 hours. Yes, yes, poor me and all that. I shall spare you the details, but enough to say that it has made me think that it was just a bad idea and I feel worse than when I went and had to suffer the indignity and discomfort I could have well managed without.
Yes, I did see my dear dear friend Lisa, yes I had a fantastic if too short time with her and her lovely family. Also, my lovely family, my aunt Kathleen whom i adore and just loves me and hates to see me leaving as much as i hate going, my marathon running cousin, Hugh, who had just completed a 5k run in 30mins 14 seconds (and he is 50!!) also saw aunt Harriet, uncle Emmet, Michael whom paul had called but another aunt had not passed on the right message. He was a fair bit shocked that we were there, not rreally surprising though, concidering the last time i was over without the family has pretty much lead him to believe his god will condem his soul to hell? And yes, also found some really cool places, Antrim and Armoy round towers, Ballycastle beach, a site with court stone circles on our way down through northern Ireland, royal sites around co Roscommon which is to where I always return. Kelly's caves down in cong and Ratha ancient earthworks with henges and clearly stone chambers/mounds visible where animals have displaced the earth. But when this was planned for 3 nights, that's only 3 nights under the truest darkest nights that I have ever known, 3 nights before having to leave. One night at Lisa's before a tearful farewell, I havent seen here in 2 years and don't know when I will again. The end of the first evening in Roscommon I had spent a perfect evening at my aunts, despite her worrying for my cousin, we kept her entertained and then when Hugh was back, we continued a perfect evening in Urlaur. A little place down a winding lane and in a dirty auld shed, in a manky auld bucket, you'll find my heart. Ripped it out right before I left. Nothing changes there, so I know it will be safe. Safe just meters from the spot my Nan was born and her mother and father died. Home.
The morning after the 2nd night I felt heartbroken I would be leaving soon. That I only had a day left, and then I don't know when or even if I shall every return. I say I will never leave it as long as I did before ( left it 10 years once, my soul was in pieces) but when I can't leave my children and have my plans followed, or I experience what I did whilst there, the pain and problems, then to come home and the children baked a cake or 3 and put up a banner welcoming us home and it's all I can do not to howl in pain. I feel like a wounded animal. I am not ungrateful (huh! Says my husband) but I am hurting and I want to go home, no, I need to be home. And I am not, nor know when I could return. I am crying just thinking of it. So I try not to, try to forget that where I live is not my home, that I am here because of other peoples choices that were more important than mine.
We enlisted lovely Leigh and ma boy Troy to look after the minions and another friend had said she'd take Eden so as to lighten Leigh's load and keep her out of trouble ... That gave Eden the excuse to turn into the manipulative ... Female that she has worked so hard to perfect ... She biggedup what a boring time she would have with them and how she didnt know anyone or have anything to do ... And said friends didn't want to do anything that she didn't want to. Begs the question, who's the adult? Guess it ain't me, because I'm rather hurt by it and felt that I needed to return home ASAP. As a result, my stomach that I had been all but ignoring fairly successfully, stepped it up a gear and proceeded to be rather horrible for the next 48 hours. Yes, yes, poor me and all that. I shall spare you the details, but enough to say that it has made me think that it was just a bad idea and I feel worse than when I went and had to suffer the indignity and discomfort I could have well managed without.
Yes, I did see my dear dear friend Lisa, yes I had a fantastic if too short time with her and her lovely family. Also, my lovely family, my aunt Kathleen whom i adore and just loves me and hates to see me leaving as much as i hate going, my marathon running cousin, Hugh, who had just completed a 5k run in 30mins 14 seconds (and he is 50!!) also saw aunt Harriet, uncle Emmet, Michael whom paul had called but another aunt had not passed on the right message. He was a fair bit shocked that we were there, not rreally surprising though, concidering the last time i was over without the family has pretty much lead him to believe his god will condem his soul to hell? And yes, also found some really cool places, Antrim and Armoy round towers, Ballycastle beach, a site with court stone circles on our way down through northern Ireland, royal sites around co Roscommon which is to where I always return. Kelly's caves down in cong and Ratha ancient earthworks with henges and clearly stone chambers/mounds visible where animals have displaced the earth. But when this was planned for 3 nights, that's only 3 nights under the truest darkest nights that I have ever known, 3 nights before having to leave. One night at Lisa's before a tearful farewell, I havent seen here in 2 years and don't know when I will again. The end of the first evening in Roscommon I had spent a perfect evening at my aunts, despite her worrying for my cousin, we kept her entertained and then when Hugh was back, we continued a perfect evening in Urlaur. A little place down a winding lane and in a dirty auld shed, in a manky auld bucket, you'll find my heart. Ripped it out right before I left. Nothing changes there, so I know it will be safe. Safe just meters from the spot my Nan was born and her mother and father died. Home.
The morning after the 2nd night I felt heartbroken I would be leaving soon. That I only had a day left, and then I don't know when or even if I shall every return. I say I will never leave it as long as I did before ( left it 10 years once, my soul was in pieces) but when I can't leave my children and have my plans followed, or I experience what I did whilst there, the pain and problems, then to come home and the children baked a cake or 3 and put up a banner welcoming us home and it's all I can do not to howl in pain. I feel like a wounded animal. I am not ungrateful (huh! Says my husband) but I am hurting and I want to go home, no, I need to be home. And I am not, nor know when I could return. I am crying just thinking of it. So I try not to, try to forget that where I live is not my home, that I am here because of other peoples choices that were more important than mine.
Monday 20 August 2012
An appointment
So, I saw the gynae, mr hillard, on Friday. I had asked my GP to see if that appt could be brought forward becaus it was 2 months from last test to this appt. but she didn't. She also said she wouldn't throw me off the books of doctors but has and said she would write a letter, but saying I'm aggressive to my care givers doesn't help thank you very much dr faulty. One saying I am terrified each time I make an appt and my anxiety and abject fear may appear to be and has been often mistaken for aggression, but that would have been helpful.
My appointment on Friday went a little like this ... How are you ... No better, if anything worse ... Well you tests show nothing, you stil have a bit of intusseception but nothing to worry about, and the scan was clear ... Sorry, but I still have intusseception? ... Yes, but you've been to colorectal and they are saying its your muscles, anyways, we can treat your heavy periods, you can have a coil, endometrial ablation or a hysterectomy what do you want ... Erm, the neurogastroenterologist I saw said I might be worse off having surgery and I am not comfortable with a coil, endo ablation I know nothing about. And the neurogastro said he wanted to see my notes and order some more tests but i have not heard anything ... Well, find out whats going on with him. Tell ya what, look this up (writes novasure on a bit of paper) come back in 3 months Cheerio.
On friday after this appt. I called and left a message for the secretary of dr Coleman in Southampton, the neurogastroenterologist I have been referred to as it has now been 5 weeks since I saw him and the magic 18 weeks since refer but not heard anything, no tests, no letter to GP, no request for records from my local hospital. She called me back this morning to say he had started a draft and was going to be ordering my notes soon but had been on holiday the last 3 weeks, how very fucking nice for him. Thing with all this bollox is that looks like it is going to move along, something will get sorted, oh yes refer me here and there, but when I get there for the appointments or wait for the tests, nothing is forthcoming, there are no answers, not even to the questions I have asked.
I am fucked off. I am back in bed because I cannot handle being up. I wanted to take kids out, but cramp and pressure and now fear and anxiety have eclipsed my future again. I am hungry but too scared to eat coz what goes in must come out again and it's like sticking my hand in a fire voluntarily each time I can't fight the hunger any longer. And this is the colour of my future, to crave the outside, company that I bore stupid with my "not sick"ness, to not be able to go far from my bed or sofa and to live in fear that this is as good as it is gonna get, plans forever cancelled because I am a bit off and can't go out or bear the embarrassment of my friends at their pathetic mate feeling a bit off. It is, after all, nothing serious ... Just there, stealing my children's mother and all her love, because when all you see is the inside of the lav you can't love your children that much huh? When you cant bear to be touch because your skin is crawling, when all you can do is shout at them because they shout at each other and all i can heard is pain and hate. That the only escape I can think of from this pain is to take my own life but that would be the cruelest of all, how could any mother? I know only too well, I can feel the prospect of relief from this pain, discomfort, life stealer like a zephyr washing over me on a hot day, and then I remember I can't do that to them. In one of my more uncomfortable days I told them, Paul and the children of how I felt. They were angry, I believe, both then and now, they would all be happier because they could get over a death, but the slow removal of my sanity, my independence, my life would be far more painful for us all. Paul did say, make sure I kill the dog too, he would not want to have to care for her as well.
My appointment on Friday went a little like this ... How are you ... No better, if anything worse ... Well you tests show nothing, you stil have a bit of intusseception but nothing to worry about, and the scan was clear ... Sorry, but I still have intusseception? ... Yes, but you've been to colorectal and they are saying its your muscles, anyways, we can treat your heavy periods, you can have a coil, endometrial ablation or a hysterectomy what do you want ... Erm, the neurogastroenterologist I saw said I might be worse off having surgery and I am not comfortable with a coil, endo ablation I know nothing about. And the neurogastro said he wanted to see my notes and order some more tests but i have not heard anything ... Well, find out whats going on with him. Tell ya what, look this up (writes novasure on a bit of paper) come back in 3 months Cheerio.
On friday after this appt. I called and left a message for the secretary of dr Coleman in Southampton, the neurogastroenterologist I have been referred to as it has now been 5 weeks since I saw him and the magic 18 weeks since refer but not heard anything, no tests, no letter to GP, no request for records from my local hospital. She called me back this morning to say he had started a draft and was going to be ordering my notes soon but had been on holiday the last 3 weeks, how very fucking nice for him. Thing with all this bollox is that looks like it is going to move along, something will get sorted, oh yes refer me here and there, but when I get there for the appointments or wait for the tests, nothing is forthcoming, there are no answers, not even to the questions I have asked.
I am fucked off. I am back in bed because I cannot handle being up. I wanted to take kids out, but cramp and pressure and now fear and anxiety have eclipsed my future again. I am hungry but too scared to eat coz what goes in must come out again and it's like sticking my hand in a fire voluntarily each time I can't fight the hunger any longer. And this is the colour of my future, to crave the outside, company that I bore stupid with my "not sick"ness, to not be able to go far from my bed or sofa and to live in fear that this is as good as it is gonna get, plans forever cancelled because I am a bit off and can't go out or bear the embarrassment of my friends at their pathetic mate feeling a bit off. It is, after all, nothing serious ... Just there, stealing my children's mother and all her love, because when all you see is the inside of the lav you can't love your children that much huh? When you cant bear to be touch because your skin is crawling, when all you can do is shout at them because they shout at each other and all i can heard is pain and hate. That the only escape I can think of from this pain is to take my own life but that would be the cruelest of all, how could any mother? I know only too well, I can feel the prospect of relief from this pain, discomfort, life stealer like a zephyr washing over me on a hot day, and then I remember I can't do that to them. In one of my more uncomfortable days I told them, Paul and the children of how I felt. They were angry, I believe, both then and now, they would all be happier because they could get over a death, but the slow removal of my sanity, my independence, my life would be far more painful for us all. Paul did say, make sure I kill the dog too, he would not want to have to care for her as well.
Friday 3 August 2012
All the fun of the fayre
Paul took children to the park and finally gave into playing crazy golf with them, well Sparx n MissMonkey, older girls went swimming and no1 son was at work.
I wanted to go, I had done all I could to pace myself and not push my limits and stayed calm and without stressing ... Only to not be able to leave the house again. I am in bed because I'm cold and it's 24oC/75oF in here and I have goosebumps. Every time I move around I have the pressure feeling cramping heavy pulling in the lower left of my abdomen and when I try to go to the loo, only more cramping and tenesmus. My legs don't work properly, my hips and pubic bone feel like they are in a vice. From what I can gather, basically my weakened pelvic floor from the ODS (intussusception) had for 25+ years, 5 children, being over weight (although that is now negligible) and the many years of abdominal discomfort when I had been told there was nothing wrong with me, twas my weight, diet, lack of exercise, fibre, couldn't possibly be in any pain, I was making it up! It's depression, get a grip, take some pills, shut up and fuck off.
But the lower part of my bowel was shutting off, meaning I couldn't poo for day, weeks, months, yes that's right MONTHS! Because of it I have developed bizarre eating habits that are usually called bulimea nervosa within the psychiatric departments of medical establishments. This was more as a coping technique than a belief I was fat or anything else. I have always known I am an acquired taste, both my looks and personality, my looks I came to realise I wasn't as bad as all that when I was 34, my personality ... The jury still out on that one ... But my eating is about knowing what goes in must come out and the assosiated uncertainty/dread/fear that goes with that. I don't know how well or when or even if my body is going to deal with the food and I end up throwing it all up coz she decided, nope, not doing that now. I get hungry, starving because I haven't eaten for days, I gorge, thinking 'fuck it, I am too hungry to care about the outcome' and I am so desperate not not feel so weak, so unwell. Even though, I am not ill.
Today, I have easily gone to the GP and and cried and cried and cried for help, if I had one. Today my family again, stood around my bed waiting on me, waiting for me to let them down again,I did not disappoint. Luckily for them, daddy had taken the day off and picked up the slack. I sat here alone with the guilt and the pain and the loneliness of failing them again, being left behind again, stuck behind the door because outside is a step too far today. Just like yesterday. And the day before.
But I am not sick.
Thursday 2 August 2012
I now have the time
Dear Ebs just got back from Barnsley with a wee gift for yours truely ... A watch! I don't normally wear them as they stop after a day or 2, not because I never take off my jewellery in the shower, coz I remember watches :-p but anyways, Tis preddy and sparkly and my phone won't let me put up pix as its clearly a vegetarian and can't cope with my meaty old photies ;-) I do really luff it tho as more than anything ... It's got green sparklies!! The most important thing In life clearly!
Tuesday 31 July 2012
It's been a while ...
Since I posted, and I've got quite a bit to update y'all on. I have had several appointments with various health professionals for what they are worth ... Guess I should start with them ...
I saw the gynae in May, he sent me for tests, a desecrating proctogram (where I went to visit the wizard ... Disembodied voice behind a curtain asking me to poo) and a pelvic scan. The results were to be given to me in 2-3 weeks from the middle of June ... Yes, of course, I'm still waiting! And a pelvic scan which was clear ... Wonder if they will take that as the scan showed nothing or there was nothing for the scan to show. Scan being only about 50% accurate.
Also had an appointment with a very nice Dr in Southampton, Nick Coleman a neurogastroenterologist. He was a little mystified as to why I had had so few tests ... But my previous posts explain that I think.
So, from what I can gather, gynae said I'm knackered have it all ripped out, not having any more children (most because I am broken ... But there may be some other reasons too) so what the point of keeping it all when it gives me so much grief (not being able to leave the house for more than an hour for 3-4 days of the month, hormonal response in my gut too, I was told I would NEED an hormone test too but that hasn't happened) I had the tests he recommended, my 2nd appointment for the 17th August I believed my GP was going to see if she could get it any sooner as it has been 2 months since the tests he ordered, but nothing except the GP surgery refusing me appointments as we live out of their catchment area and have been for 5 years, only it seems to be a problem now. When I last saw my GP she said she would write me a letter of introduction in the event that we are not moving back to the areas and would be looking for a new surgery. I got the letter which states that I take my bad moods out on my care givers ... Oh that is really helpful ... When actually, I get very frustrated, fearful and it takes every gram of self control I have not to run away crying when I am not listened to, when I am told again it cannot be that bad, not in the 30 years I have been suffering with this had one doctor areas through my notes before I walk through the door, not one has understood that I want to end my life because I cannot cope with this. Thinking about the future terrifies me. I don't want to think about a future where this is still ruling my life. The alternative is my children growing up believe their mother never loved them enough to stay alive for them.
When the reality is, they are all I have to live for.
I haven't heard anything from dr Coleman, but I guess he would write to my GP whom I am no longer allowed to see, so that's screwed that up for me ... All he really had to say is that there seemed to be more than one thing going on and that if I had some sort of functional disorder, I was basically hearing the noises from my gut as death metal at 300dcbs and everyone else has Mozart at 30dcbs and that he would not recommend a subtotal hysterectomy if that were the case as it would just make everything worse.
And my CBT has finished. I think she empathised with me and felt my frustration and maybe tried to give my fears and bizarre mindsets a little bit of validity because they are what's got me through and because actually, when an uncomfortable health condition is ignored for 25 years+ and then for 3 years played down, made worse and ignored, then yes, it does make people ... Odd. I was able to kind of get to the bottom of some of my coping strategies but didn't really address changing them. Maybe because I can't at the moment or maybe she cared about as much as the rest ... I like to think she *got* my sense of humour and wanted to help me ... Then remembered she was getting paid to sit n listen to me. So whether she got me or whatever, she got paid, she listened, there are no more sessions, I am not better in any way.
I saw the gynae in May, he sent me for tests, a desecrating proctogram (where I went to visit the wizard ... Disembodied voice behind a curtain asking me to poo) and a pelvic scan. The results were to be given to me in 2-3 weeks from the middle of June ... Yes, of course, I'm still waiting! And a pelvic scan which was clear ... Wonder if they will take that as the scan showed nothing or there was nothing for the scan to show. Scan being only about 50% accurate.
Also had an appointment with a very nice Dr in Southampton, Nick Coleman a neurogastroenterologist. He was a little mystified as to why I had had so few tests ... But my previous posts explain that I think.
So, from what I can gather, gynae said I'm knackered have it all ripped out, not having any more children (most because I am broken ... But there may be some other reasons too) so what the point of keeping it all when it gives me so much grief (not being able to leave the house for more than an hour for 3-4 days of the month, hormonal response in my gut too, I was told I would NEED an hormone test too but that hasn't happened) I had the tests he recommended, my 2nd appointment for the 17th August I believed my GP was going to see if she could get it any sooner as it has been 2 months since the tests he ordered, but nothing except the GP surgery refusing me appointments as we live out of their catchment area and have been for 5 years, only it seems to be a problem now. When I last saw my GP she said she would write me a letter of introduction in the event that we are not moving back to the areas and would be looking for a new surgery. I got the letter which states that I take my bad moods out on my care givers ... Oh that is really helpful ... When actually, I get very frustrated, fearful and it takes every gram of self control I have not to run away crying when I am not listened to, when I am told again it cannot be that bad, not in the 30 years I have been suffering with this had one doctor areas through my notes before I walk through the door, not one has understood that I want to end my life because I cannot cope with this. Thinking about the future terrifies me. I don't want to think about a future where this is still ruling my life. The alternative is my children growing up believe their mother never loved them enough to stay alive for them.
When the reality is, they are all I have to live for.
I haven't heard anything from dr Coleman, but I guess he would write to my GP whom I am no longer allowed to see, so that's screwed that up for me ... All he really had to say is that there seemed to be more than one thing going on and that if I had some sort of functional disorder, I was basically hearing the noises from my gut as death metal at 300dcbs and everyone else has Mozart at 30dcbs and that he would not recommend a subtotal hysterectomy if that were the case as it would just make everything worse.
And my CBT has finished. I think she empathised with me and felt my frustration and maybe tried to give my fears and bizarre mindsets a little bit of validity because they are what's got me through and because actually, when an uncomfortable health condition is ignored for 25 years+ and then for 3 years played down, made worse and ignored, then yes, it does make people ... Odd. I was able to kind of get to the bottom of some of my coping strategies but didn't really address changing them. Maybe because I can't at the moment or maybe she cared about as much as the rest ... I like to think she *got* my sense of humour and wanted to help me ... Then remembered she was getting paid to sit n listen to me. So whether she got me or whatever, she got paid, she listened, there are no more sessions, I am not better in any way.
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