11th November

 Whoosh. A week goes by.

So I went to my brothers last weekend. I so very nearly called it off. Because. Of course. I felt like shit.

But I did it anyway.

It's often a close run thing. And I really have to ignore the screaming warnings my body gives me that This Is Not A Good Idea. And you know. Just hope for the best. Or at least a soft patch of ground where I can hit the floor.

Weekend was nice. To be brutally honest, I spent the weekend phasing in and out of being ill. But I improved.

Got back home, felt worse within half a day.

I'm now not entirely sure my house isn't poisoning me. I got a Carbon Monoxide alarm, just on the very unlikely chance I was being gassed. The alarm hasn't gone off. So I can presume that's ok. Not sure about the rest of it.

It does remind me that when I got my new sofa, I spent the first two months in a pretty dramatic allergic reaction to it. Puffy eyes. Sniffles. Sitting on it was a no go. I ended up covering it in blankets which helped. And leaving it in a well aired room. No doubt Eastern European dodgy chemicals. It's feasible I have something like that on a low level persistent interference course with me.

But eh. Grasping at straws again to explain something I can't get a handle on.

My dizziness.. is... kinda down.. but.. kinda.. morphed. I now have a permanent woozy, helium head. And my eye reaction is.. laggy.

Not alarming at all.

Anywho. Moving on.

This week I finally got a call from the hospital about my surgery. My, at this point, 2.5 year old open wound on my ass.

No rush.

I have been pencilled in for the 30th November, assuming I a) pass the fitness test ( ah ha ha ) and b) don't catch covid.

The fitness test. I think will be easy enough to pass. They are looking for major tickboxes. As the NHS ever fucking do. And what I've got. Yeah. Doesn't fit on their spreadsheet. So. I think we'll just skim that. Oh. Yeah. Pfft. CFS. No big deal. Let's go.

In reality. I think I am an iffy case for surgery. Perhaps the problems will not overlap and no problem overall. But. I know how stuffy my head is. How very deep in the depths I am some mornings. Today for instance. Just. So. Sluggish. Rising from the depths. Big yikes. So. Yeah. I think I am running some (small) risks here. But let's not tell them that.

I have considered the unlikely possibility that I will go under ( general anaesthetic ) and never come up again.

I am more than ok with this.

This is the closest I get to a state sanctioned euthansia enactment.

So yeah. Obviously. I am more than ok with that.

Cheerful. Even.

Thank fuck at last oh my god yes.

Which I know, is quite fucked up. But that was honestly my reaction to the thought of not coming out of it. Which. Mm. Tells you a lot. I put up with it. But. I am so far beyond being happy with it. Or even just existing with it.

I had to remind myself of all the cool things I had done this year, despite this year being epically shittastic. If I was dead, I wouldn't have got to do all of them.

Very true.

Also, on balance. I wouldn't regret missing out on them.

Mmm.

So anywho. Some surgery 30th November. Which I've been told is very likely going to be quite... inconvenient, if not downright awful. And will require a second going over as well. I was warned on the consult of the edge case dangers. Which. Were pretty grim.

Tuesday, I went out to gaming. First time in an age. I had my arm twisted to come and see some old friends and someone in the country for just one week. As ever, I had a very warm welcome. It's ridiculous. But nice. I am not 100% sure what they see in me. But we've had those discussions here before. People see what they see of you. Not what you think you are. I was introduced to a newbie as "Legendary". I laughed. Legendary. Ok. You should see it... from this side of my eyes. But I do get it. Heroes and myths and dreams. Not necessarily representative of reality. But if it makes people happy. . . and I should be so flattered to be thought of like that.

I started to crash on Tuesday. Much earlier than I would have done in the past. Tired. But. I did it. So. Again. Better Than The Start of The Year.

Otherwise. I am struggling to stay upright. Definitely in more of a down phase at the moment. Tired. Nausea that comes and goes. Permanently woozy head. Tremors ( yes, hooray, right arm, for a week ). Meh.

I've been talking to my friend more about ditching work and doing games. He's very positive. He alleviates my anxiety. He's being very good to me. Having become ill again, my confidence and enthusiasm for doing Other Shit waned to zero. What's the point. I'm a dead man walking anyway. As my friend said. You could be that working now, or doing something different. Doesn't matter.

True.

So we're starting to frame up timescales. I have a vague idea of leaving it until after Christmas. I am also mulling over how to break it to Andy. I am not sure that's going to go *at all well*. I am also not sure how some of our clients are going to react. Equally unwell I suspect. But I'm sure they will all survive. No one is irreplaceable. Although. Heh. My leaving may wellllll test that to breaking point. If not immediately. Then a slower car crash. I know for sure that I am not in the mood to do endless fucking questions and support requests and one off Can I Just after I leave. Because that would just be the stress, the bullshit, the same work, but paid far less. Mm. No thanks. I am also not in any mood for, oh noes, can't you just document everything, and write down everything you know in a document pls. The answer to that is also no. 1) that's an impossible bit of magical thinking - just condense a high experienced worker into a simple beginners guide for me and 2) its been more than a decade to tackle those issues. It's a bit too fucking late once the horse has bolted out the door. That's not my problem. That's your lack of any kind of even slightly ball park planning ( 10+ years is *quite* the amount of time to get your ducks in a row ).

I don't know. See how we go.

My friend has suggested that

a) He become my gatekeeper - no one gets to talk to me except through him.

b) Any requests are done on a day basis, charging £1k a day, and every new request then ticks up an extra £250 a day. So, £1k for day one, then £1.25k day 2 ( for a total of £2.25k ) and so on. Thus focusing minds on weaning off of Johnnys Help. Either that or making me huge sums of money in line with what I should probably have gotten. And also becoming very quickly financially untenable to ask me questions.

I laughed at his suggestion. But he was serious. Said he didn't give a shit. And would sort out that exploitation very quickly, given that everyone else in the fucking pipeline had made oodles of money, and I had not. Uh huh.

Heh.

I am appreciating his managerial and board level skills to be honest. I can see he sets things out and has experience there where I do not. I think it will be an asset to anything we do in future.

Anywho. End on a positive.

It's great that I have a surgery date. Best case scenario they fix me, and a lot of my issues go away because they were caused by a fucked up immune system. Worst case scenario they find some awful which is at the root of me feeling like shit all the time and I have to come to terms with living an always shit life. Second best case scenario, I go to sleep, dont wake up. Pax.

I am considering writing some shit down before my surgery. A. Just in case I do cark it series of notes. I dont think I will. But then. Famous last words innit. A lot of people don't think they will die either. And do. So. I might leave some notes. With links. And I dunno. Put some timed emails on. To trigger after a set amount of time with a link. Deus Ex Machina. Or just leave them with someone. To Open. You know.

I should also probably properly sort out a will. I know. But. I really cant be arsed.

Anyway. Thumbs up for surgery. Just gotta fake being well enough and avoid covid. Ho ho.