My Disease And I

For the first time since 1983 I had to give in and visit a prescription hander outer. That has soooo spoilt my record, but hey! ... I didn't need any smarties  ... aka antibiotics.
Nope, my disease required anti-virals - Acyclovir - in the hope it would prevent complications and stop it in its tracks ... even a teeny weeny bit.

My rash was impressive and at the first sign I thought I'd been bit by some evil munchy flying ba**ard ... I said as much in the big consultation room in the sky - Facebook - hmmm, where I posted a photo of my 'bites' on the Wednesday afternoon.

I was diagnosed immediately with shingles even though I argued that it was impossible as I was so healthy ... completely forgetting I'd had a headache for two days and just didn't feel like getting up off my arris to go out and spend some money. As this is my number one hobby I should have suspected summat was amiss but I just put it down to wimmins 'ormones.

"Go to the docs" ... "no I'm fine" ... "you'll be sorry" ... "I'm busy" ... "she won't go to the quacks unless she's taken unconscious in a wheelbarrow" ... "Sigh, I'll go Monday if I'm spotty or worse, I feel fine" ... "sigh, what's wrong with now?" ... "I'm ironing" ... and so it went on.

A sister - the bossy one - text me with making appointment instructions. By now even I suspected shingles because when I'd finished ironing I asked Doctor Google what shingles looked like ... ooer missus. I text back to say I'd make an appointment at my docs and I actually meant it ... not that I even knew who he was as two had started and retired without me seeing them.

We were going home the following day - Thursday - as I was meeting Facebook friends for a Discworld get together - at Wollaton Hall on Saturday, 11th July.

Thursday morning came, I was in agony, luckily Mr Grumpy had previously picked a leaflet up for Skegness Urgent Care Centre. I made my mind up, I was going, I was showered and dressed in a flash. I knew I'd have more chance of receiving drugs in time there than wait until we got home to see my own doc ... in the unlikely event I'd even get an appointment.

Yes, classic Shingles, I was given a prescription and instructions to tell me that Morrisons was the nearest drug dispensary ... this proved expensive as we went shopping as we whiled away the half hour I'd got to wait ... clearly this is a cunning ploy as half an hour doesn't really give you anywhere else to go.

We went home later that day as planned, time passed in a painful blur. We didn't go to Wollaton and went back to the tin hut that day - Saturday - instead, I needed to get back where I could relax without Chavsda and Langley Mill winding me up.

Many weeks have passed, I gained 6lbs through idleness - I didn't do much as I couldn't wear a bra so no jogging/running/gasping/limping - the rash cleared up fairly quickly leaving minimal scarring, but the pain lingered and lingered. To me it was a constant ache then burning with lots of stabbing. I frequently thought ...  "am I having a heart attack this time?". There is no feeling in the affected nerve, it's completely numb ... until it feels like being ultra-itchy or painful.

I started noticing something odd, if I was totally preoccupied with something else I felt no pain, once I thought about it ... OUCH!

I'd read up on Post-herpetic neuralgia and fully expected to develop it. Now I know that they say the most likely people to go and develop these complications are lonely hypochondriacs, and that's because they're going to think about nothing else. I'm not discounting them as saddos with imagined pain - don't forget I'm suffering here - but I do think there's truth in this. If I wake up and get on with stuff before I shower - no pain - but if I think "I wonder if my shingles will hurt today?" then instantly ... ouch...

My Thermostat Is Broke!

Now, before Bernard reads any further ... It's nowt to do with the gas boiler. In fact, this post is entirely for 'wimmin'.

Now, we all know I received lots of lovely booze and choccies for Christmas. The grumpy old man is still munching his way steadily through the chocolates, and I've made a bit of a dint in the alcohol. But, alas!! Not nearly as big a dint as there should be by now.

I appear to be unable to drink at this specific moment in my life and this has to be the worst symptom of perimenopause - for me - yet. We have already covered most of the symptoms before in my blog [memory not gone yet]. Oh heck I've just looked at the date I wrote that post ... HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO LAST?

Is it not bad enough that I'm sat shivering and muffled up to the eyebrows one minute, then stripping off and throwing caution to the wind - and a 'don't even think about it' glare at my GOM; watching with a twinkle in his eye - the next?

Then there's the mood swings, I spend two days bawling and blowing my nose into a snot-stiffened tissue every time an advert comes on the telly for poorly donkeys and starving babies. So I turn the telly off and listen to music - while I work - to take my mind off all the depressing things in the world. Only then I find that I've gone into reminiscing mode and start blubbing over every dead dog, cat, budgie, pigeon, hedgehog, rat, mouse, fish et al I've been in contact with.

Of course straight after this episode I popped over to Bernard's lovely blog which was happily on about parrots and parakeets ... then I got to the comments. That set me off again, I pictured this poor little bird sat by the side of the road hour after hour - oh bugger, I'm off again, where's me hanky? - waiting for its lifelong mate to get up after it's been flattened.

The following day I was in a vile mood, I told a scrap man to p**s off just for daring to knock on the door - and he was ever so nice - he told me to have a nice day, that just made me want to throw something - non-metallic - at him.

And now, back to my 'drink problem' or 'lack of drink problem'. I just can't do it. One little dropsicule and I end up in a major sweat with a dreadful headache, which no amount of pain killers will shift. I even had to go back to bed on Tuesday after only one hour's work.

I'm not about to give in though. I've finished all this week's work ... so tonight - after total abstinence since Monday - I'm going to let my hair down, have a drink or two and no doubt take all my clothes off ...