This isn't even a proper post, not really.
Bed. Phone.
I'm trying to continue reading the book I began a couple of weeks ago. Or was it more than that? I can't think straight.
I can't sleep from nausea, gurgling innards, and the echoes of mild pains through the flimsy shields of pain relieving medication. My eyes are heavy, my body aching, my womb throbbing with the ceaseless threat of what is yet to happen to me.
Tuesday was tolerable. I did not collapse. I did not think an ambulance would be needed. I did not need my Mum to stay with me at all times. Tomorrow will be different. Wednesday will be wicked. It will be familiarly cruel, frightening, paralysing.
Today I took 22 tablets - all but 2 were for pain relief.
My eyelids are heavy. I'm being charmed by the wonderful simplicity of the delicate sparkle of silvery stitch detail on the roses on my duvet cover...
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