This morning saw the return of the grunting immobile shell that is me when things are bad.
Stef had to lift me out of bed, carry me to and from the bathroom and hoist me back into bed. Little reminders like this really suck.
Still, as Stef told me when the tears started this morning, "there's no point in crying babe, you have to expect it, you have this illness for life so it'll happen occasionally. You have been doing a lot lately" He then very sweetly reminded me that he's here to look after me and that I have nothing to worry about.
My man is the best.
I've had a full body massage, particular attention to my feet since a good foot rub can sometimes bring me out of it, when that failed he just made me as comfortable as possible and told me to sleep as soundly as possible through the banging and shouting from downstairs.
I must have managed it because I only vaguely remember Stef kissing me on the forehead and asking if I wanted a drink or anything before he went out (we're going to a wedding tomorrow and there's a couple of bits to get, serves me right for leaving it to the last minute really)
Anyhow, that was at about 9am so I should be ok. Going off past experience if i'm having a REALLY bad one i'm out for the entire day, it's only been about 4 hours and I'm up, brain is functioning and I've managed to fix myself a bowl of cereal.
Just means I need to take it easy so I won't spend too much time on the pc today..
I know it's not stress this time at any rate. The medical assessment doctor must have had a different reaction to my answers than Stef and I did because I had a letter through telling me I have my benefits for at least another year. Another stress reliever came in the form of a telephone call a few days ago.
We're moving. Finally, we're escaping the neighbours from hell.
In about a months time Stef and I will be relocating to Bushey in Watford. I can't wait.
Not only will I be an hour away from my best friend (as opposed to about 5 or 6) and the same distance from various other friends around the area, I've found a course at Watford college (franchised from the university) that far surpasses anything I'd hoped to do in Manchester.
I've been trying to sort out financing this week, all that running around is probably what contributed to todays little hiccup, but fingers crossed I'll be on that course come september.
If I'm not I'll be contacting the DEA in Bushey and trying to get some permitted work and applying to do my maths GCSE again (or whatever equivalent is offered on govt. programs alongside permitted work) I'll just try again next year for the course I want.
Either way, the future is looking bright, I have goals, I'll be surrounded by friends and I'm not letting a little thing like a lifelong chronic illness hold me back!
Now I'm going to sit by the window and listen to the massive fight going on downstairs - I can laugh instead of despair at my surroundings now an end is in sight *grin* Shame I have no popcorn to hand really ;0)
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