Oct 12

 Been suffering the last few days.

The nausea crept back. And then came back properly.

Oh no. No no.

Uh huh. From one point of view, its effects... or whatever it is... effects... are easier to track in isolation like this.

So. Nausea. A sick feeling that entirely wipes out appetite, makes the thought of any food a queasy proposition, and pretty much overrides feelings of hunger or otherwise.

Next. Generally unwell. Ranging from the, I do not feel good, but will struggle on, to, oh my fucking god I feel terrible, freezing cold, no blood in the feet or hands, I, must, lie down, and sleep.

Next. Lethargy. Low mood. Unsurprisingly feeling like shit, makes you also feel like shit. The world gets way more miserable.

Which ties into. Motivation. Motivation to do anything except feeling unwell goes to zero. All you can think about, is how unwell you are, and counting each breath.

So yeah. Not fun. It passes. And then comes back. And passes. In the space of eh, 5 or so hours. Endlessly repeating. With very, very brief interludes of, hey, I don't feel ill.

As of today. Touch wood. No nausea. But. It's fragile.

The relief at not feeling ill in a day is astounding.

So there's that. Uh huh. Something I ate perhaps ? The vagaries of post viral bullshit ? It would seem that my gastro is indeed fucked hardcore in my post viral landscape, and I have to be very careful with it. And landmines can hide anywhere. Uh huh.

Something to bear in mind. Also. I need to continually be vigilant to track what I am eating when, to weed out any assholes that trigger me. I am not sure what it was this time ( if it was indeed a food trigger ). I have certainly been still avoiding the obvious suspects. But uh huh.

Anyway.

Moving on.

As of Monday we have a new What To Do About Mom plan. Apparently there is now going to be a funeral. That people can attend. And it sounds like... everyone is going to attend. But no real clue. Also. There's going to be a pub drink afterwards. My brother spoke to my dad a little. And short summarised the importance of people saying goodbye that I went into on my soapbox. And. He got it. Miraculous.

So.

That means all the plans to date and discussion have kinda been thrown out the window, and we have a new plan. Which. Is fairly close to what normal should be. Except it took us a lot of bullshit to get here.

How it all plays out however. Uh huh.

But still. Eh. Idk. On the one hand I am happy that everyone gets to say a proper goodbye, that we all have acknowledged how important that is, and set a good lesson for the family instead of the usual dysfunctional bullshit. On the other hand. I am frustrated, annoyed, aggravated about how much of a rollercoaster its been to get to this point of what should have been a pretty much low effort thing. And that we've finally arrived there after a bunch of crap has had to be waded through. 

On reflection I can finally understand why I am somewhat pissed off about it. Because it has been difficult. Unnecessary. And in the end, just wasted effort and emotion and yada. All because its a dysfunctional family setup. It's so fucked up. Perhaps for the first time, it's very VERY visible just how much added bullshit and drama the "sensible, locked down, stand on your own two feet, stiff upper lip" malarkey adds to everyones lives. The dysfunction, for once, is clear as day. And its costs are obvious.

That sounds frustrating at the least.

Ok. I understand why I am somewhat snarly about it now.

Again, another thing to process about my moms death. Why am I pissed off. Ah. Ok.

The funeral will be 1st November, 12.30. Quite a ways off. Apparently all that stuff is heavily delayed nowadays, and has been since covid. Seems like a long time though. A month between death and cremation. Feels a bit yikes to be honest. No help for it I guess.

Hopefully now, things will settle down.