Bork Slowly Borking

 Last couple of days have not been good. The nausea is definitely back. Sticking with me throughout the day, hard to shift, draining me of all motivation and capability to do shit. I am sleeping a lot to escape the misery and also because I am permanently exhausted. Not good. Today, feeling ill yet again, just lying there about to watch some TV, a mini panic attack came over me, a sudden shift in anxiety about being ill, instant odd feeling in my stomach, dizzy head, sweat prickle, panic. Ok. Ok. Calm. Calmmm. I know we feel shit. I know it's never ending. But calm. It's ok. Fortunately it moved on pretty quickly. But left me feeling even more precariously fragile. My mentals have had enough of constant misery it would seem. Today I have spent all day trying to deal with it. Sleeping for a long period. At the end of the afternoon Hazel cried for help. I felt terrible. But responded. Tears. Hazel had got news back from the specialist. The prognosis was grim. About as bad as it g...

 Exhaustion kicked my ass hard today. I nearly ended up sleeping all day. Not really because sleep was necessary, but I was just exhausted. A mild malaise. And nausea. My mood turned downwards, unhappy with how ill I felt, unable to do anything, so very difficult to push myself up and visit the kitchen. Everything hard. Exhausting. It sucks. I have done my best not to fret too much about it. It is, just the way it is. The return of nausea everyday is really unwelcome. I was hoping it would just clear off. But apparently not. It is also sucking the life out of me. This evening I struggled to sit on the computer and play some games, and for a while my mind was taken off it all, and I slipped away to somewhere else. As good as it gets for me these days. The days wheel past, and I am unable to achieve sweet fuck all. My life just drips away in a twilight state of sleep and non functional short periods of wakefulness. Meh. I have been mulling over Our Glorious Leaders plans for the NHS....

 Yesterday was not good. In the scale of things I've had worse. But yesterday was a day of feeling ill all day. A persistent mini migraine, exhaustion, nausea. Everything chiming in. Quite possibly the come down from a particularly bad migraine the day before - the headache and mini migraine was definitely post bad juju migraine territory where it can take anything from 24 to 72 hours to heal - you end up with some kind of headache or "woozy bruise" for that period of time after the migraine has done its worst. The nausea is probably a twofold thing. One. My stomach being extremely dicey at the moment and only barely recovered from the 2 month long constant nausea thing. And two. The migraine tickling the vomit response and a high dose of aspirin causing stomach issues, resulting in a massive step back nausea stomach wise. The exhaustion and general feelings of ill.. well.. thats just the "CFS". Although. I am beginning to see a strong correlation between that...

 GP on Monday didn't end up doing a lot. They apologised for me taking the better part of 2 months to see someone. They apologised for not running a blood test as they should have done. They apologised for leaving me in the lurch with meds. Apologies end up being empty after a while. You have to actively change or do something about stuff, not just trot out apologies after the fact. When I used to commute to work the railways were the poster child for such apologies. Every single day. An apology. Automated. Robot. Apology for delay. Cancellation. It wasn't even a human. Just a queued response. The apology is meaningless. Not an apology. At that point it's just a piece of communication handshake. Like saying hello at the start and goodbye at the end. And somewhere in the middle of a rail announcement you get an apology. The apology has no meaning, it's just part of a sentence structure. There is no sentiment . It's just mechanical. And beautifully ironically - delive...

 I think maybe... my nausea has finally gone. Today has been nausea free again. And I am not feeling horribly ill around my stomach. So the week before the GP, 2 months after having the issue non stop, it heals. For the moment. Why bother with the GP at all ? The shit situation with all of this is that it could still be a serious complication going on that is waxing and waning, and that in any case, lets assume it was just a Plain Old Nasty Peptic Ulcer, by rights these should be taken seriously, monitored and treated. Not doing so runs the risk of a) it being something nastier b) it turning into something nastier c) taking longer to heal than it otherwise should. Steve Wright the famed radio 2 DJ last year died because of a ruptured stomach ulcer. Something that should have been easily caught, easily treated, but was neither, and he ended up dead long before he should have died. Yet another one of those "Excess morbidities" or whatever the nuspeak fucking term the NHS uses ...

 A torrid few days, but slowly I've been feeling a bit better. The nausea has lessened though it comes and goes a little. Last 36 hours have been a good deal better. Poppys Xray turned out to show some bone growth but nothing that would indicate that kind of pain. So. Turns out I didn't know shit after all. The recommendation is to follow this up further with a specialist, double the cost. The suspicion now is that it could be something like a tumour that isn't showing up, although, that being said, the senior vet at my locals is haunted a bit by this as he lost his own dog to that. At one point he thought Athena might have the same issue - she didn't. Hazel has gone home and left Poppy with me - she needed to be back at home to pick up a parcel. A day. Or two. Or three. I can't say I was particularly thrilled at the idea. She left her here ostensibly so that it was "less messing around for Poppy, better on her leg". Given that Poppy is now peeing on Hazel...