Saturday 2 May 2009

It's a funny old game.

Fourteen years. All that time to get used to periods, yet for the few months Mirena was in, I'd forgotten how they felt. How did I forget what my periods were like? How did that happen? I've had pains for a week but no period, yet. Not much unusual there. I'm the least of my worries, presently. Well, perhaps I'm about number four or 5 on the list. Mum, Dad, brother J, my driving lessons... so, yes, number 5 is where I am.

It has been one of the more stressful, confusing and comforting weeks of my life, of our lives, our lives as a family. I've been to hospital to see my Ma three times since and including Wednesday and she is looking and seeming more well each time. I - somewhat obviously - expected Ma to experience that inevitable shock, for which one can never prepare, that first view of the new wound, of what isn't there now, of what has been lost. What I didn't expect, however, was my delayed reaction (at home, at about midnight, quietly, alone) after Wednesday night's visit to be one of sobbing. I felt so desperately sad for my Mum, what she's had done and the reasons why. They've taken (with great need, of course) a part of her which made her a woman. And it's not just that which upsets me: it's the pain she is in when she tries to move, to drink from a cup, to move her blankets, to reciprocate the hug I give her.

My time at home is no more about not being able to move because of Mirena. It is now about doing as much housework as I can, which is wholly acceptable, I have no problem with that. I am tired; I still haven't slept well for weeks, although probably months. This is partly to do with the squirrels in the loft. That's not a euphemism. They wake me every morning at about 6:00am. My hormones are doing whatever it is they usually do. By that, I mean they're having a fucking laugh. I'm currently feeling pretty nauseous. I'm not sure if the cause is too much oil with the mackerel-in-a-tin wonder, or if it's a bit of anxiety. Or it could be the premenstrual hormones. Or it could be imminent erm... ughness... I'm guessing it's a combination of anxiety and food. Food was fine. Don't panic, Lu. Don't. Panic. You're all right, I tell myself. Everything is all right. But, as mentioned before, logic doesn't work. Much. Sometimes it does. But...

Sometimes, I shake, like there's too much adrenalin all dressed up and nowhere to go. It's a strange thing. My jaw hurts because I clench my teeth without realising. I shake not uncontrollably - it can be eased by trying really hard to calm down - but certainly a fair bit and it is weird. It's horrible. The sickness, or rather, the feeling of it, is still the worst part, for me. If I have a mint and feel the trapped air rising, and then let out that crafty wind in burp form (sorry but y'know...) - as has JUST happened, reader, I SWEAR! - I feel an almost ridiculous sense of relief that ohh maybe, Lu, it was just air and not actual ughness. Brilliant. Really. Better, would be that I didn't get anxious in that way or that that, if present, did not lead to a panic attack.

I've had a mint, burped - mmm - and am now very tired indeed. I have to take my Citalopram (anti-depressant) tablet. As you might have read in a previous post, I am a shockingly bad tablet-taker. Orange juice, not water for me. And I can take so long to actually swallow the tablet that the coating dissolves and I can taste the bitter stuff that does the job. Nice. Mint followed by orange juice isn't good. Maybe I'll be mega brave and try water...

I should add here that there is some comfort in all this confusion. It is knowing that there are some very decent people willing to help us at this time of oddness. So many people have been asking how Ma is, if they can visit her in hospital, if there's anything they can do to help here (there is plenty to help with - everthing, in fact)... cliches are a bit rubbish but they do tend to be true. "They" say, "It's at times like these you realise who your friends are". In this instance, "they" and their cliche show themselves to be true. If only "they" could stop me feeling so anxious. But feeling like this is basically innocuous; I'm definitely the luckier lady, between my Ma and me. For one thing, I haven't got a chorus of snorers to keep me awake during the night. I've got squirrels to wake me up too early in the morning, though...


  1. Your Ma's lucky too, y'know. She's got you. x

  2. Sorry to hear your mum's in pain, but glad to hear your she's on the mend at the same time. It sounds like this is when she really needs spoiling.

    From my experience I'd say the sickness is anxiety, because I suffer from exactly the same thing (full story:, which got 10x worse when my Grandad went into hospital. I can't believe someone else gets the "YAY I burped!" feeling. It will ease off; try drinking ginger beer/tea when you can and have a healthy, bland diet. Other than that just make sure you talk to people about how you feel. Wishing you all the best luck! xx

  3. LAW - The burp thing is SUCH a relief, isn't it?! Ahh and relax. Or try... x

    L - you are utterly lovely. I am quite brilliant, I suppose... *irony... or is it?* x


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