May 17

 Health has deteroriated. Yesterday was the worst yet. Had a "bad turn" in the afternoon which I had to sleep for. Whislt trying to sleep both my arms went dead from the elbow down. Eyes hollowed out. Felt absolutely awful. Everythung hurt.

This wasn't an apnea thing. I was awake. Aware.

It was so bad I realised that, this, was kind of it.

Athena has been a long emotional and stressful distraction from my health shit that was precarious back in December. It has not miraculously improved in that time. And now the shock of Athena has quietened down, and perhaps a price is being asked of the last few months on top of my already shit health. We are, I think, exactly where we are.

I got up. Like the dead. And went and had a slow and shit chat with Hazel. That. I didn't think I was gonna make it for long. Not being funny. Not being dramatic. Just. Heads up. It's really bad.

She was unhappy. And angry. But didn't quite take it out on me. She convinced me to go see a doctor about it - like this time will be any different NHS wise from the years I've suffered. They will perhaps run a blood test, then shrug their shoulders. I am not the kind of patient the NHS treats. I am the kind of patient the NHS triages into the trash. She wanted me to get the CPAP too. Sure. Ok. It's not the apnea I said. I am awake during this. It's not me running out of oxygen.

When Hazel is like this you can't talk to her. She angers up. And there is no questioning her opinion or offering a fact that contradicts it. It just pisses her off more.

We left it at that. Hazel sent an email to get the CPAP thing rolling.

Today similar shit, not as bad as yesterday, but very not good. Both my hands are cold. Both my arms elbow and below are half way to dead. Tingling. Something weird about them.

And oh yes.

The left side of my face has erupted again. Crawling ants. Tingles up and down the face. And a weird sensation beyond that. Muscular.

Today I don't think I can be bothered seeing the doc about it all. I am highly doubtful it will do any good. And. I am at this point not invested in really getting better anyway. Part of me wants to fix things so I don't feel so awful. Part of me thinks you don't want to go on anyway, here is your way out. The problem is. It doesn't feel like a very nice way to go. It's going to include a lot of suffering on the way out. Not what I want.

Perhaps I should see the doc one last time. Don't force it. Just. Weirdly. One last effort to see if the NHS actually do shit, beyond say, a blood test and a shrug.

Eh well.

It's ok. There are all sorts of stories out there. Some good. Some bad. Short short. Some long. Some happy. Some tragic. It's just another story.

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