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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

typical ...

I've been sat around waiting, well not waiting, but I thought i may do a few things today. Maybe go to the folk festie or town/shopping centre or just to the park for a coffee n stuff, but waiting on others. I know I offered, but it seems that my offer isn't what everyone else wants from me ... and just writing this post is further proof ... wanted to go to festie this afternoon, reminded by children that if I was to go out we should go to the carnival ... I'd rather eat my own leg, don't know where loos are, or seating or how far everything is and as usual, not feeling great ... offered to go with no1 son to festie, but he had got a lift from a friend and didn't want his auld mum hanging about, offered to take no2 stepson, but he put me off for a couple of hours then another couple of hours, has now text me saying collect me in 20 mins and I also have to go get the rest of the minions from the carnival ... just as I start to write the blog post about not planning anything because I hate getting let down/letting others down, but I have lifts to give to thems that have a life ...

An hhmmmm and an aahhhh

Criptic enough title? Don't ask what it means coz I have no clue ... Just seemed to describe what is on my mind. I guess I haven't had time to post up about my latest hospital appt with the gynae, it went as well as expected, he has suggested some tests, another proctogram, which it would probably been a good idea to do one a year ago when it was clear the first surgery hadn't fixed me, instead I was shunt along to another surgeon with the covering letter "I can't manage this woman expectations, see if you can get rid of her" that I found went having surgery to remove some of the staples that were digging into me from first surgery that nipped and tucked part of my bowel, yes that's right folks, I had staples sticking into my arse on the inside and y'all wondered why I was a bit odd ... It felt a little like anal electrocution, actually ... A LOT like it. That is now ancient history and certainly not worth going over again in this post, so back to gynae. He is also sending me for a pelvic scan, he didn't say that certain things don't show up, in fact, short of ... You may require a total hysterectomy there wasn't much he did say apart from have tests and come back in 3 months and how having so many children normally will have done this ... So will living with a bowel condition no one would take seriously for 25+ years and are still not doing so. How much of this is because I am a disposable member of society, that, one the whole, the public would be better without me being counted amongst them. That concept does seem a little extreme, but I have come to recognise that the NHS does treat people like this, The elderly, the chronically ill, the disabled, I believe I am one of them. Probably because of my mother. She was one of the first British women to take advantage of the new abortion laws in 1967 and terminated a pregnancy at a clinic in half moon street london. Which is odd as there is no record of the actual clinic being there, just the place where you saw the 2 Phycs who decided if your mental state would be damaged by having he child ... Just as the procedure is today 45 years later. The way mother tells to story to all that will is listen is she was at a party for student nurses and doctors where she was drugged (read drank too much gin) and raped (read doesn't know the colour of the men she shagged) and my grandparents paid for her to terminate, my aunt went to visit and assures me she did have an abortion in 1967. At the same time however, and this is where it starts to get interesting) she was also knocking off a policeman name of John hill from Essex ( I know much more about him, the Internet is a wonderful tool) who had separated from his wife and children and was knocking off my mother. He was worried about loosing his job should he divorce and the stigma of having a child out of marriage, especially as he was still married to this other poor woman. So anyways, to add more dung to the shit heap, mother claims that this abortion was done by Caesarian section or hysterotomy. A very dangerous and not often used method of abortion. It would have left a very small scar along her bikini line ... It didn't. The scar she had is on par with my birth c/s scar that I was born from vertically. The same aunt that visited her with my Grandfather after the procedure assures me it was NOT by hysterotomy. I can only conlude that she had an earlier child, most likely around 1962, when she was discharged from the army nursing corp, the way she tells it it was for having a cat in the dorm, aunt tells it as a man ... Knowing mother, most likely the latter ... After this abortion in 1967 she was shipped downed here from Kent as mother would be unlikely to shut up about it and cause undue embarrassment for my grandparents, so in with my granfathers sister and her husband she moved and within 5 years met and coveted my fathers social status and family wealth so married him. About 16 months later I had to be born by c/s as her womb split and we both nearly died. The way she tells it, she was left for hours before the realised something serious was going wrongs and took her down for emergency c/s. A year or so later she go pregnant again, this time not by my father, infact looking back, no wonder my father is such a nasty bastard, he must have felt such a dick. She claims (and this one on is better than the party where she was drunkenly shagging all the coloured doctors) she had post natal depression (lie #1) and went to maternity unit for appointment (#2) and met an old colleague (#3) who thought she looked ill so looked up her address (#4) and came over to consol her and she ended up pregnant (# 5&6& maybe 7) and she never told my father, actually she got rid of me to my grandparents and my father was expected to build a relationship with my brother and for years he knew it was wrong, for years it was so blindly obvious that he was a fool to have turned a blind eye to it. I truely believe that my mothers mother knew, she did her very best to make me feel left out and other family members noticed. When i returned to my parents home when I was about 8 to live, my health issues started, my feet (accessory navicular -ask me about my lumpy feet) and my bowel issues, my back problems, asthma for which I received no medical help ever even after having attacks and going to doctors. I was told that it was in my head, it was not even written up often my gps visits. Mother would start with "she says... But I haven't found any evidence" because i lived with a nurse, she held herself up as evidence of my lack of symptoms. I was told I had eating disorders that they wouldnt help me with as they didnt believe they were particularly real illnesses, I just had to stop messing around and just eat something when I could not eat due to my bowel issues. I went to another gp once and told of my problems, he said i would have to sign on with his sugery to get help, but he was in wimborne st giles and i lived in poole,When I was 19 I got into hard drugs and became a heroin addict. For the first time I my life I had no pain and could function on all fronts. I could run forever, I could eat even tho I didn't ever feel hungry, I could walk for miles, I could work for hours and hours and hours without feeling dreadful. this didn't last, I was haunted by my past, the whole reasons I took drugs in the first place was because I couldn't handle my own head and when asking doctors for help, I was asked to leave the practice, or there we no doctors available to see me. I get this at my surgery now, but the gps have written such horrible things about me. I dont feel that anyone will ever take me seriously again. And I can ask myself a thousand times why does this happen? And I just don't know, is it because it was something starting before I a born? A kind of social cleansing? It didn't work if so, because i have gone on to have 5 children who are lucky to have such great health, a bit of asthma and touch of eczema but nothing like my brothers neglect (he has his own issues from that woman and not my place to go into) or mine. I will say tho, that he suffered neglect for many many years and that has caused him long term health conditions and lifelong implications. If anything I am more angry about the effects of her actions on my brothers life and the effects my problems have on my children, they don't deserve it, they are good people who deserve so much better and more than she's given. I probably deserved it. Quite honestly if I have been targeted as a disposable member of society I am firstly in whole hearted agreement as I do not feel like a worthy member of society and kudos for recognising that at such an early age and anger that they just haven't got it right and finished the job! It is almost a perverse pleasure I see in the eyes of health professionals that just know they have no intention of helping me, but get to tell me to fuck off in such a round about way. It's been 3 years and 2 months since I insisted I needed some help and all they have done is made my symptoms worse and my mental health even more unsteady. I rarely go out for fear of being caught out with an attack of the pain or if my bowel starts working or having to confront someone or something I feel is out of my depth. It happens, it happened recently and I still have to deal with the consequences I just haven't been well enough to go and "hand myself in" nor have I been allowed the time off from my duties as main carerer for my children. I was told I could do it in the evenings when he's available to look after my children, but evenings are very hard for me due to the whole state of the condition of my insides. Find that hard to believe of my husband ... Ask him!

Family stuff

Wanted to do a little post about my history ... Ancient History and ancestors and stuff like that. Been looking on family history sites, including some done by my own vastly extended family members and local parish records etc. on my fathers father side and back through to male line we have a confirmed marriage date of 1694, making our tree to go back to approx 1670ish? Think that is a fair enough date ... Only 300 years before me ... Makes my *cough* years fairly insignificant indeed lol having found Grandfer and Granny Guy on the 1881 census and then Grandfers parents going back to his mothers baptism in 1824. The family of granny wasn't so fruitful ... No idea of her parents past at all, I remember my grandfather Bert telling me yet thought his great granny was Scottish but who knows??? I certainly haven't turned anything up from searching parish records the last 3 days! I have also been compiling from memory and the help of the Leitrim-Roscommon census site, a little about my paternal grandmothers family, her parents and their siblings, haven't got too far with that one either, I need to confirm a few dates and names with my aunts before I have filled in the gaps. Tho gaps should include up to my great great grandparents names on my paternal mothers side. They were settle people and not travellers or tinkers. So that's in my favour as there are few records of travelling peoples be they travellers, tinkers or Roma, and would be very difficult to hunt down. Not that there were many if any Roma in Ireland at that time, being that the Roma people originated in India and up through northern Africa, the very word gypsy comes from Egyptians, travellers and tinkers were the roaming people of Ireland. I am purely making a point at the genetic and cultural differences that all though we perceive all people who choose not to live a stagnated lifestyle to be traveller/gypsy. That shit awful big fat gypsy whatever, on channel 4 only goes to propagate the myth that they are one and the same people, it also does much to cause unrest between settled and Travelling people of all types, not least of all that the people, any of them, are actually like that! I know its all shite, but your average daily mail/sun reader only believes what their rag tells them ... With shows like this what hope is there for equality, freedom or understanding in the future????? Glad I've got that off my chest ... Back to the tree of peoples ... On my mothers side I have a tree of her mothers side that goes back to mid 1700 and I have got to contact cousins to see what I can gleen from them regarding mothers fathers side as I have no more than a fee names and places less than 100 years oldbut nothing confirmed in census records or anything yet ... It's only been like 3 days!!!! I'm not stressing it yet ;-) I'm going to join one o them there ancestry sites, not sure which one yet, looking like their are all approx £100 for the year. Until then I shall be making many many more scribbles in my books ... It all became to confusing with one book, so am writing in 2, helps me spread myself about and piss off the kids :-) In other news I have just received call from a southern asian gentleman calling himself Adam of the home energy something or other, he was not too sure what to say when I called him a liar and that his name wasn't Adam, I asked him if he was Jewish or any son of Abraham ... He wasn't keen on answering ... Funnily enough I feel the same about cold callers.

Some Pitchers and Stuff

I have been rubbish at remembering my password and every time i've tried to log on and blog either something has distracted me or I've forgotten the password, reset and lost interest in posting ... I've fixed the password problem and uploaded me photies from my camera I got for giftmas ... well, sparks did the 2nd bit ;o)

I have been trying to get out of the town for days and get some fresh fresh air, managed it early last week and took No1 son and No3 daughter and one dawg over to Corfe Common just outside Corfe Castle. There were some horses turned out on one side of the road so we went over the other and found a patch where we could let Cashla off for a bit of a play with the ball. Whilst No1 Son and Monkey were playing with the dog.

i found some British Bluebells
and Self-heal,

Calendine singing to the sun and
Germander Speedwell

And I am sure this is a kind of wild orchid, am yet to find the name of it though

After a bit of a run about and few gasps of fresher air, we headed into Wareham where we stopped by with some relies ...

These are her great great great grandparents, my fathers, fathers, mothers parents.
There is another grave very close that is Granfer Guys brother, George Foot and am looking at having a nose through parish records and also have a look for what happened to Granny Guys brothers and sisters and children, she had loads, 3 sets of twins according to my grandfather, but I'm sure he just used to tell me that to scare me when i was pregnant ...
Also found some parish records of Corfe and Langton Matravers etc to build a bit of a family tree on that side, my male line goes back 13 geneations from me, and have a fair bit of other stuff to put together from other lines too ... watch this space!

Messing about

... with blog heading and all that and got this pic up, fitting perfectly, that I took last year in Ireland. The bee's pollen sacks look amazing :) gonna go compile long post about bees now that i have made a new sourdough starter using wholewheat flour, water, milk and cumin ... will keep you posted on that ... also made a double batch of swiss zopf, just proving on the windowsill, for 2 loaves for dinner.
oh oh oh!!! I also found another 80 brunettes my mate Pady from swiss left here for me when he and his lovely wife and family came over to visit last week, they already bought me 200! I have the best friends!! LOL
The children have decided to be helpful today and are making schools downstairs to get monkey to actually finish stuff she starts but gets distracted by shiny things ... even Cashla is playing! Dopey dawg!

Is It Norman?

To wake up everyday and before its even begun wish it was over?

I am so bored of waking up and feeling like this, I want a bit of energy and life.

It feels like parts of me are shriveling up and waiting to pass over into some other life. I don't know, maybe they are, just without telling me. Those times when I push myself further than i normally would, i pay for it 3 fold in discomfort, pain or exhaustion. 

I've sat here with my little monkey on my lap crying and feeling like such a crap mother, person even, that I can't do what i want to do with my kids, that I shout at them they don't listen to anything I say, even though I should be hugging them and telling them how much I love them right now today, because thats what they want to hear, and need to hear, not how angry and frustrated I am, how they make my life worth living, not making my life impossible to live. It's me thats doing that ands it's me that is driving them away from me.

Today I have to do some driving to Christchurch, Monkey wants to go to her home education group, at the moment, I'm stuck here, cramping and griping and crying. Monkey says, it's ok, we can stay at home.

Gods, that little girl, how could i have been so lucky????

A Visit To The Vet

Finally, I went to the vet 10 days ago.
A couple of months ago I go into see the vet (dr f) at the practice I attend that doesn't tell me I'm an aggressive nasty person who is expecting treatment for something they don't treat (what would that be then??? Silence is the stern reply) or write lies on my notes about me. I explained again about the gynae stuff I'd spoken to dr sh about in december who told me I'd not had a smear for 7 years so he felt I was refusing treatment, and about the frustration I feel at dr sm (january) for refusing to tell me what was going on with my referral as I was there about another matter, and the dismissive treatment I got from dr c (november) when attending an appt the dr from the pain clinic told me to make to get meds he recommended (the letter hadn't turned up and I was upset that I was expected to make another appt, i was in pain and very depressed, I told her I felt she didn't want to deal with me to which she shrugged her shoulders - as you can imagine this isn't how they have reported it on my notes) and she (dr f) said she was reluctant to send me for any further investigations as she believed i wasn't mentally strong enough mentally to deal with this.
what utter bollox.
I told my therapist and clinical psych from the pain clinic that the gp wanted their opinion of my mental health in early february.
my therapist finally spoke to her april 10th, they decided that i should defiantly go back to see dr f and discuss this further, I called to make an appt thinking that it would be within a reasonable amount of time ... 30th april, 3 weeks time. On the 3rd call, I explained I couldn't wait that long and was told in no uncertain terms that was the wait and I could take it or leave it, had the gp wanted to see me they would have called me to make an appt or left a note, she hasn't, so tough. I told her that I couldn't handle the wait that long, I had to see dr f and it was important. She rang me back a couple of hours later to give me an appt for friday 13th ...
lots happened, lots was said ... she hadn't realised that it was the waiting that was messing with my head ... WTF??? How exactly is one supposed to feel when your whole life is dedicated to being told its in my head, not real, not worth investigation, my children have lost a large portion of their childhood and their mother to this, everyday I find it impossible to keep calm, not to scream in fear and pain and anger and frustration and of course the children get affected, they have to spend their lives waiting to see how it all is ... if i am going to be grumpy, crying, ok, bursting with energy and desperate to get things up together like the washing, shopping, cleaning etc. their school holidays are spent waiting to see how their mother is, if she can face going out, if she can risk it. during the easter break, i went out 5x, 2 therapist appt, one dr and 2 coffee shop visits which ended up both times me doubled up in agony and having to leave before we were ready. I have been asking for help for more years than I care to remember, this year one of the schools put me a family support worker in place. My husband went to dr sh and asked for referral to CAMSH for counsilling to help our family deal with this, my kids see that I get no help, no meds, no dr's appts, no specialist, no family and they think I'm lying ... why shouldn't they? there is nothing to make it seem like I'm being truthful apart from my black mood when I'm in pain or doubling up in a shop, over a trolly, in a cafe with pain ... dr sh was not helpful and suggested we had too many children and should seek our own social services help. In all fairness, everything she has offered me hasn't been anything I could take advantage of. She offered one child a place on a course, when i asked if another could take it, was told no, she was not attending a school this woman could refer from. The child that wanted to go, but couldn't blamed me. Naturally ...
She also said she felt that my gynae issues could be contributing to my bowel pain etc. no??? really???? Didn't I say that? And surely if that were the case they would have referred me a year ago no as the first surgeons minions told me they would 2 years ago?? erm no, that would mean they noticed that i was calling asking whom i should make appt's with to manage my pain ... that my case was reviewed, taken seriously blah blah blah ... yes, I'm internalising a problem with a system that is screwed, I know I'm taking it personally, but how is it not personal? It my name that gets lost in systems, missed off reminders, overlooked, looked at with disgust when asked why.
Another classic was "I think maybe after all the damage *you* have done to your bowel with this condition you may have an atonic bowel to a certain degree which would account for many your symptoms" ya don't say, that is what I was saying for years ... the years I was being told I was fat and should stop eating, drink more water and do more exercise.
That I was upset when seeing the surgeon as he was telling me something he should have told me 4 months before, and it has taken a further 4 months for her to see, read and act on his recommendation means I'm 2/3 of a year down ... again ... why should I not being fucking raging about it?? But as soon I mention how sad I am that another chuck has been put down to oversights, I'm being unreasonable, putting the wrong person in the firing line, aggressive. To whom do I tell this then? That every day I think of a different way and a different reason to cease this living shit and I'm guilt tripped into surviving with half promises of help and a future, I wonder why I am so jaded?
Shall we have a quick recki of times ... started when i was 10 ... 25 years of being told it was all my fault/in my head ... discover its not ... get messed about, have surgery with PROMISES of improvement ... its got worse? oh go see someone else, surgeon doesn't wish to be reminded he failed ... 2nd surgeon forgets to hide the letter from first surgeon saying i was a bitch doesn't wanna do follow up so I'm *overlooked* for 4 months ... we are nearing the 30 year mark ...
I'll round up the jist of her appt, she's referring me, to gynae for a subtotal hysterectomy and go onto HRT and to a neurogastoenterologist fella in southampton and see what he thinks of this I guess ...
This morning I got my choose and book letter, I get to choose from one consultant at one hospital ... Wow! This choice thing rocks! I chose an appt on friday the 19th may ... even tho there isnt a friday 19th may ... its the 18th ... which the surgical team with ok before sending me a letter, only once I have the letter is the appt booked

Of Mice and woMen

So I had been planning on making this my personal blog space and do stuff like log my health (or lack of it) specialist visits (or lack of them) medical support (or not) progress (yeah, now I’m getting funny ...)
My family and I had moved house a couple of months prior to starting this blog and that goes some way to explaining why there is so very little written! The house is a sieve!!! There was a leak in my daughter’s en-suite and I reported it in September, October, December and January. the damp was terrible, my oldest daughter had repeated ear and chest infection and in February it was finally fixed, my lucky landlord was saved quite a lot of money and damage by the fact that I had a dehumidifier running 24/7 for 5 months in there ... my daughters had to move out of their room and into the playroom come hallway as there was nowhere else for them to sleep due to my stepsons maternal grandmother dying and him not being able to use his bed usually set up for him in the playroom as his sisters were there so was crashing in the lounge ... have they refunded me anything from my rent for not dealing with my complaint when it was reported? or for the 5 months of dehumidifier running?  or have they even bothered to follow up the report of another leak 2 weeks ago that has now spread from outside to inside and no chance of that even being anything more than looked at this week ... that would be a no ... the microwave blew up when we moved it, no problem, I’d rather not use one, then at new year the dishwasher broke down ... the guy that came to fit the part that they didn’t know they needed/realised/whoops/let’s see again/oh no we can’t/its ok we have the part now came out and got scared by freshly woken up me and then found he didn’t have the right part ... now (it being afternoon and everyone has so much better things to do) I’m sat waiting for washing machine engineer. It broke over a month ago, they came, they said X, they booked in for repair, then cancelled repair on morning as they *had booked enough time* then fixed it only to have it leak the contents of machine over the kitchen floor. It’s over a month it’s been broken now and the laundrette love me!
But the main problem is my pain ... I sound like I’m 82 with crumbling bones ... I’m not, I’m nearly 39 and I have a bowel condition ... I think ... well I did have ... then they operated and now ... now, I’m just horrible. I had chronic constipation (i.e. for anything up to a month) for years ... from when I was maybe 10? I don’t know, don’t really remember that much. all I can say for sure is that I had cramping problems for years, that I would tell the gp who called me fat (I had just had a baby, had pelvis and back problems) and blamed my laziness for my lack of bowel movements, just for the record I also have an accessory navicular which can make load bearing, walking and running, especially when overweight, very painful. Also blamed over the years was my poor diet (I eat well) not drinking enough water (even when drinking 4-5 litres a day) some people is like that, get used to it. It is hard to live with having to birth one faecal matter from one’s body on a more than monthly basis. then 3 years ago I demanded to be referred to someone to help, I got into with a hospital gp at my local hospital (no choose and book I hasten to add) and she sent me for a blood test, a colonoscopy (which both came back clear) and then a defecating proctogram which found I had a severe intussusception and decent which was closing off my bowel each time I tried to evacuate. Hence the pain, hence the constipation, hence the birthing. So I was referred ... no, not for surgery but the physio who couldn't help me, in the meantime I also had problems with my gallbladder which was sending me slightly mental and because i wasn't suffering at that very moment in time and i was under a surgeon for the other, the doctors receptionist decided i didn't need to be seen by my gp. 8 months after dx'ing intussusception I was operated on. It was a horrifying and nightmarish ordeal, it is written up, should anyone wish to read "my arse laid bare" just ask.
Since seven months before my first surgery (July 2010) I have had no further tests done on my bowel. One blood test was done prior to my gallbladder surgery (August 2010) and an ecg.
My gallbladder has been removed and I can thankfully report, no further problems there. The bowel has been a different matter. I returned post op to see the surgeon to whom I explained that although the constipation has been relieved MOSTLY, the pain is now much more frequent, as are my bowel movements. From a day of movement in maybe 5-30 days (usually been 5 and 10 but has been as long as 30 on more than 5 occasions in 5 years) to movements every day or 2 (has been less frequent recently due to extreme nausea and anxiety) and pretty much constant discomfort or pain. The pain is usually located in the lower left quadrant of my torso but lower right is sometimes affected as is the middle and across the top of my abdomen. I know I also have a GURD but that is a different pain to the bowel cramping. That said I’m not always sure it is bowel cramps ... but what would I know??? I mentioned this to my surgeon as he'd mentioned the possibility of sending me the way of a gyni as a next step; he dismissed it and said he was sure this would work but maybe not until a year or son’s time. I had a further follow up with one of the surgeon’s minions who told me to learn to live with it and face the fact that they cannot help me and referred me back to physio. By this time I had given up work (started a new business after the first round of surgery) as I was unable to cope, I was in far too much pain and burnt out.
In the late March I was surprised to receive a letter telling me how my surgeon didn’t feel he had anything more to offer me so referred me onto another colorectal blokey, he suggested some of my pain was due to staples sticking into my rectum from the first surgery maybe irritating me and making things very much worse and that he would remove these first and see where that took us. He seemed to understand I was exhausted and totally fed up of this, that I was depressed I was loosing more and more of what little of a life outside my bathroom I had. On the morning of my surgery I found a letter from first surgeon to 2nd telling him how I was such a difficult patient and couldn’t be helped, my expectations too high, I had been aggressive. I wrote on it that I would be following this matter up in due course and left it for the surgeon. that was to be the last I would hear of him, 5 months later he finally couldn’t get out of giving me a follow up appointment (his secretary said I had been *overlooked*) and told me that he couldn't help me, there may be a doc in London or Southampton who could, but as he was a 2nd opinion (and he opinion backed up the first surgeon, I expect too much (they said they could stop my problem and help me lead a normal (norman?) life and I haven’t got that, should I be satisfied with that?) he said that I scared him, I knew more than him and that intimidated him. I actually (foolishly) thought he had understood that as a woman with a functioning mind I would be looking at trying to find out as much as I could myself, I wasn’t getting anything anywhere else. I have developed issues with food over the years as I had been told much of my problems were down to what and when I ate ... when it never was ... I had a dysfunction and the problems are not down to my lifestyle or body type. Those issues colour my daily life, eating in the morning is very difficult, it’s like food comes with a siren screaming "the fat fuck is eating the fat fuck is eating" I can really be craving something ... anything ... during the night it was fried bread, oh lordy I do <3 fried bread, I wanted to get some today from the cafe, I was going to have bacon and beans with it, maybe an egg (for the omegas, don’t really like eggs) and a grilled tomato for the vit c, I only ate 3 choclits and a cheese and onion sandwich yesterday, nothing the day before and 1/4 of black forest gateaux and a small portion of potato salad the day before, I am hungry. I cannot face the food though, even if I were to order it or make it, I’d not be able to swallow; it would feel like a beach ball in my mouth. This is how I have lost a stone in a month. And despite being unable to do much exercise as just walking about sets of the cramping to levels I cannot cope with let alone organised activities, I am no longer overweight or obese. It’s been a long hard road, I’m flabby and untoned and unable to get there and I’m sad about it. and hungry, really fooking hungry!
Another day i shall tell you about my gp and why i cannot change practices.