So it’s been a while since I last wrote.
To be totally honest, I’ve found the last week or so quite tough. Not that I’ve felt particularly worse, but more because I’m going through a blip where I am so tired from the side effects, and so tired of not feeling my usual active self, that I am just a bit fed up of it all. The good thing is I know it won’t last, but it doesn’t make it nice while I’m going through it.
I like to think that I’ve handled this damned diagnosis pretty well since it all kicked off in 2009. Without even trying it has seemed to be fairly natural not to blame other people, wonder ‘Why me?’ or get cross about the whole thing. I almost feel like sometimes friends and family expect me to be showing those feelings, and with some friends, I think they are disappointed not to see me collapse in a heap in the floor….maybe because that’s what they would do.
But this week, I’ve felt a bit like I’m not quite sure how I face this for my (ok yes, shortened) lifespan! It’s wierd. I suppose at the beginning, and once you get over the initial diagnosis and the shock of it all, it almost becomes a ‘novelty’ thing. Hmmm, should I admit to that one? I certainly felt a little like that while I was training and raising money for my 3 Peaks last year. It felt a bit like being pregnant. But now, that novelty value is well and truly wearing off, and I just wish I could go out without worrying about how I might feel afterwards, whether I will have overdone things for the next day, whether I’m going to get the same old same old questions from people who care.