So, when I said I wanted It's Not All Me, Me, Me to be written on a more ad hoc basis, it seems I wasn't kidding.
It's been over two weeks since I last posted something. There's not been a lack of things to talk about, per se, more another big dollop of writer's block. Not having mental energy enough to overcome the block doesn't really help either. And, to be honest, I haven't felt like writing anything. As I said previously, I didn't want to write just for the sake of writing something. There's really no point in forcing it.
But, here I am. Again.
What's news, I hear you cry (or not, as the case maybe)? Well I had my Respiratory Consultant appointment on the 15th.
I always dread this appointment. Without fail. You think I'd be used to it by now, after a lifetime of hospitals and consultants' appointments. But no, I always start to panic around a week before; fixated on what will show up on my chest x-ray or if my lung function tests will reveal marked deterioration.
And, as always, my fears are unfounded. Despite my pulse rate soaring whilst in the waiting room, my chest x-ray was clear and my functionality, for now at least, is stable. Hurrah. Although it may be a more muted hurrah as my Consultant was a little concerned regards my Hemoglobin levels. They were quite elevated on the last blood test I had (back in September), and he informed me that if they're consistently high (although I was a little perplexed as to why this was a surprise, as he was the one who first advised me of my higher than normal levels back in 2009) then I may need to be on Oxygen permanently. Oh.
I haven't heard anything back from the hospital regarding the latest lot of blood work, but I'm not really relishing that prospect much. I only got my head around the whole "you need to have ambulatory oxygen or you're putting yourself at risk of heart attack and stroke" thing in June so this might just be a bit too much to take in. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Otherwise, lung wise it all seems quite positive(ish). No news is good news, and all that...
So, that's my lungs caught up with, moving onto my next ailment.
I saw my GP on Tuesday for the first time since November. I've been signed off for a further three months, and on my sick note he's referred to it as CFS. At. Blooming. Last.
Now, I know most people are wary of labels, they don't like being pigeon holed or, well, labelled. Me? Big fan. You know where you are with labels. They're definitive (to a point) and clear cut. I don't like ambiguity.
I am greatly relieved to have finally being given the CFS label. It means I'm legitimate now. Excellent.
Obviously my condition was real beforehand, it's just, now it's been recognised by the medical profession, it's concrete. I'm no longer suffering from a bunch of symptoms that are indefinable or referred to as some vague and hazy term. Well it might be this, or it might be that...
Oh, and, as if to celebrate this new found legitimacy, I finally received my CFS clinic appointment through the post. What timing, eh? I'm booked in for the 6th of March and, with a strange sense of perversion, I am actually looking forward to it. It means I'll be taking the first step to tackling this strange and debilitating condition.
Symptom wise, it's same old, same old. I'm getting less headaches but sleeping even more than ever before. Yesterday a new record was set: I surfaced at 17.53. I had got up a few times during the day to go to the bathroom, get a drink, answer a phone call, but had fallen back to sleep again. Oops.
Today, however, I got up at 13.30..... positively the crack of dawn!
In other news: less than a month now until my 30th. Oh. Dear. God.