annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sunday Sunday I'm not doing great. In fact so not great that I went to the doctor - an emergency appointment because I got to the end of what I could do. In further, actual fact, no, there was a physical thing which I looked up on the NHS website (the only trustworthy medical site) and it said contact your GP, who gave me an appt that day, but when I got there I mainly cried and said I'm done, can't do it, but there you go, I'm still here. It's being so fucking tired - feeling OK, absolutely fine until I try to do anything, anything at all, at which point I can't, and if I make myself I just sleep for hours, if not days - days after Glasto, fucking days. Ach, I'm exaggerating - I can plod about, but I can't stomp about, doing my three miles a day, or do my proper yoga or the 5 Rhythms and these things made it all manageable. So without them I unravel and here I am, unraveled. Also the acupuncturist has been away so I haven't seen her for three weeks, and that does help, I always realise when she's gone. So the doc sent me for comprehensive blood tests and another X-Ray, to see whether the pleurisy is diminishing or not and to check all the other shit out. I forgot to tell her about my sore throat and the dry, hot, barking cough which consumes me for about ten minutes just three or four times a day - I mean, what the fuck is that about? I haven't visited my Elder daughter much because suddenly I can't look at her without crying. All I see is who she was, who she could have been, who she should be now, living her life, not lying on that fucking bed in that fucking care home, no matter how lovely they all are there. She's mostly asleep now. Well, that may not be true as I've not been there much, but she seems to be asleep a lot. My baby. She'll be 41 in a few weeks. I want to just ignore it - not have some fucking celebration where I can't even tell if she knows what's happening, never mind whether she's enjoying it. So that's been the bedrock of my week, and it's been freakishly, climate change-y hot, record breaking across northern Europe, which seemed to be talked about in the media with the same excitement as a new 100m record, rather than the end of fucking days. It seemed endless but it was only a few days in the end - we aren't set up for heat here, and many of us don't fucking want to be. We do have a fan, but it's massive and even on its lowest setting makes it too cold at night, too windy, too noisy. There were some good things
Bed now. I am grateful for: Bloke being away at Womad (world music festival) since Thursday morning, back tomorrow alas but it's been better without him; Shirley being a good dog with the horses; watching Ackley Bridge, a drama written by, about and starring British Asians and white Brits, in the setting of a school, a new school formed by the amalgamation of two mostly single ethnicity schools - it is so good to find this at a time when politics is so fucking awful - Jesus the cabinet are such a bunch of cunts I can only survive by thinking they can't last the year out. Night night
1:15 a.m. - 29.07.19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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