Oh, what a week! My CPA (big scary meeting, remember last post?) went almost scarily well. Completely swimmingly (I can't swim... don't let that take owt from the sentiment). I was so scared beforehand that I'd got up at 6. Rebecca Condron does not get up at 6. I get up at 8.32 of a weekday and at whatever time they drag me out for meds of a weekend, after which I go back to bed. It's a combination of powerful meds and general slobbishness, but mornings are not my favourite. I can't even tell the time before 11. Anyway, that was a tangent. I'm in a weird hyper mood today, I've had too little human contact and too much time watching Come Dine With Me, I think.
Back to my week. My CPA was beaut, I think helped by the fact that my consultant actually forgot about it and so was quite easily guilted into giving me, dumdumdum, three nights over Christmas, at home. That's an early bloody Christmas miracle; remember I've only had one night at home ALTOGETHER over the last year. Amazing. Oh, and NYE at home, too. Another Christmas miracle. Otherwise, apparently I'm making progress generally, although I'm still, yanno, crazy and detained in hospital and all that. Getting out would be a miracle that every god I don't believe in couldn't produce, even together.
So that was Tuesday. Wednesday was a bloody nightmare. I ended up doped up to try and fight flashbacks, then the person in the room above me flooded their bathroom and so, by extension, my whole bloody room. Water pouring through the light and all that. And I ended the night in A&E. My body, right, is really bloody good at doing all it has to to keep me alive, despite all I do to it. I know when there's summat seriously wrong, and I know when my body is just having a bit of a whinge, that it'll get over. Wednesday, it was having a bit of a whinge and my blood sugars dropped right down and I couldn't eat anything, so I ended up in A&E. It was the most pointless trip ever- even by the time we got there my body had got over it and was borderline alrighty, but even so I had to wait for... I don't actually know how long, I laid out over a load of waiting room chairs (NHS chairs are painful. Had I not been so totally drugged up, I'd have been buggered) and slept, then had a stupid 3 minute chat to the doctor, who said I was fine. Giant shocker.
Thursday- oh God, I don't think I can even write this without laughing- health and safety came to assess my room after the flood and the charge nurse got into a load of shit, because my room was apparently such a hazard that if the fire brigade came the whole place could be shut down, HAHAHAHAHA. I was told to get out of bed- not even my bed, another room I'd been dumped in because mine was such a violation- and half my possessions. That was traumatic as, and took 5 hours. Less said the better.
Friday was pretty uneventful after all that, just a bit crap because my bezzer here went home until Sunday... probably why I'm a bit barmy- more barmy than usual- today. COME BACK BECKY. Today, I'm having a really great boob day and haven't got out of my new Peppa Pig PJs. Why would I?
I'm dead sorry for this post, it's so garbled. Believe it or not, I've actually cut a load of garble out of it. Normal service will resume soon.