Health: I've finally been diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome after my visit to the hospital at the beginning of the month. To be honest it doesn't really change anything apart from putting a label to what my body is apparently going through. It's still difficult to explain to people, it's still difficult to pace myself when I have no baseline to work from, it's still difficult to work round and manage and it still drives me bonkers on a regular basis!
Education: the Diploma course is going well although I worry that the level of the course will be too high for me. For reasons I'm not entirely clear about to this day, and despite my 3 siblings all having gone on to University, I didn't undertake a degree when I left school so have never worked at degree level. This course is aimed at post-degree level and I'm fast picking up that it's an entirely different story when you have to read masses of text (a challenge in itself), compare arguments and theories and be able to present that in writing with clarity. Our first assignment is due in a couple of weeks so I'm in semi-panic mode at the moment, aware that the clock is ticking and the days are going by far too fast!
Writing: apart from this - my everyday diary, a reflective diary for the Diploma course, my lifestory to be read out to our personal development group on the course, 4000 words of a commentary and an analysis of a 10 minute recorded counselling session for our first assignment and something for the topic for this month's writing group meeting! The last one is the only one I can get out of because, normally, counselling clients are seen back to back (in theory - 50 minutes for the session then 10 minutes for writing notes and getting yourself together for the next client). I have never liked this idea because in practice there's never time to do what you're supposed to do and also because I worry that that second client will be compromised due to not being able to 'let go' of the first one in time. So I asked the Agency if I could have a different time altogether for my second client - they agreed - but the only available time I could fit in with was a Tuesday evening slot at 7.30 p.m. It was only when I got home I realised a Tuesday evening is when the writing group meets and our October meeting is tonight. I could have postponed the new client for a week if I'd been quicker but by the time I'd phoned the Agency back they'd contacted the client so it was too late.
Counselling: I'm beginning to enjoy this more now - there's not so much of a panic when I'm sitting in front of a client and I'm able to relax a lot more. Although I'm not starting completely from scratch in that I used to do voluntary counselling years ago, I hate that feeling of not being experienced and trying to convey a confidence with a client that may not always be there! However it *is* getting better and it's a lovely feeling when you hit the nail on the head, get behind the words being spoken and identify what's really being said. For me the proof of the pudding will be in that counselling room - what happens in there is what will tell me if I've done the right thing and if I'm on the right path.
Medication: I've kind of got a bit stuck with this. I reduced the dose of the Subutex by half then couldn't get any further with it and as everything was on repeat prescription, it was easy to just mosey on along ignoring the fact I wasn't moving. Repeat prescriptions automatically get reviewed after 6 months and, unfortunately, I had to see my least favourite doctor, Dr. Weirdo, (his surname is very close to that so that will be his Prosebox name from now on :) because he's the Addictions Doctor. I fail to understand why - so far he's shown he knows ****-all about addictions and has screwed things up for me on more than a couple of occasions. However I'm stuck with him so am trying to accept this and work with it. At the moment I have to confess to hoodwinking him a little in order to buy me a bit more time.
One of the drugs I was put on was Propanolol, a beta blocker, and I managed to get myself completely off it a few months ago but didn't convey that to any of the doctors so it's not on my notes. So when I told Dr. Weirdo I was stuck, he suggested 'parking' the Subutex for now and concentrating on reducing the Propanolol and Mirtazapine (anti depressant) and then we could work on the Subutex later. As it's the only drug which is doing anything positive for me and is the one which brings me out of the 'morning fog' and lets me get on with the day, I was quite happy with that and last month I bounced in telling him I'd reduced the Propanolol from 80 mgs a day to 60 mgs! And this month I will also bounce in and tell him I've reduced from 60 to 40 mgs when - in reality - I will be attempting to try a day here and there with half a Subutex tablet and see if I can get used to it. This way I get to concentrate on the course for now, keep functioning at some sort of manageable level, still try and reduce the drugs sporadically and come across as totally compliant with Dr. Weirdo. Success all round.
One of the drugs I was put on was Propanolol, a beta blocker, and I managed to get myself completely off it a few months ago but didn't convey that to any of the doctors so it's not on my notes. So when I told Dr. Weirdo I was stuck, he suggested 'parking' the Subutex for now and concentrating on reducing the Propanolol and Mirtazapine (anti depressant) and then we could work on the Subutex later. As it's the only drug which is doing anything positive for me and is the one which brings me out of the 'morning fog' and lets me get on with the day, I was quite happy with that and last month I bounced in telling him I'd reduced the Propanolol from 80 mgs a day to 60 mgs! And this month I will also bounce in and tell him I've reduced from 60 to 40 mgs when - in reality - I will be attempting to try a day here and there with half a Subutex tablet and see if I can get used to it. This way I get to concentrate on the course for now, keep functioning at some sort of manageable level, still try and reduce the drugs sporadically and come across as totally compliant with Dr. Weirdo. Success all round.
Family: Delighted that my niece, Catriona, is finally expecting a baby after years of anguish since her and her husband, Mike, got married 4 years ago. They underwent one round of IVF but it was unsuccessful and, unfortunately, there weren't any viable eggs to freeze so, trying to psyche themselves up for another round, they took off for a trip around the west of Scotland in July with their two lovely spaniels and came back relaxed, recharged and re-energised. A few weeks later they let the family in on the happy secret that they had got naturally pregnant and were expecting an arrival around the date of my brother, Ian's, (Catriona's dad) birthday next year!
It always amazes me when our bodies do this. I remember when Boyd & I were trying to get pregnant - it was a desperately stressful time because I was starting to realise his drinking was a very real problem and he had decided, after months of angst and refusing to even talk about it, he didn't want to be a Dad for no apparent reason. (I hasten to add he didn't have a moment of clarity or anything - the two weren't linked - he just decided it wasn't for him but couldn't discuss it and I was just expected to accept that.)
It was only then that I realised the lifeforce in me to become a mum was stronger than I had ever envisaged and that I would - without any shadow of a doubt - come to resent him if I went along with this and would probably have a meltdown when my biological clock stopped ticking. I still don't know if the path we took was the correct one (I mean in the circumstances) but take it we did and what fascinated me about that time was, once he told me he didn't want to be a Dad, I could not for the life of me swallow the tiny, tiny contraceptive Pill from that point on. It was like my body was completely rejecting it - so weird.
And then when, the following month, my period didn't appear I was overjoyed. Pregnant already!! Boyd was 9 years older than me and I didn't want us to be older parents if that was possible. However, sadly, I soon discovered that that was not the reason for the non-appearance and from that point on, my periods made sporadic visits for the next 6 months and then stopped altogether eventually for 2 years. So then I had a new worry with that happening - that I wouldn't be able to conceive at all. And then - presumably when things became slightly less stressful and I stopped focussing so much on it, I fell naturally pregnant with Nikki. The thing is that I would have been willing to bet that I was still as stressed as ever - as far as I was aware, I never stopped thinking about it and was constantly watching every month for the return of the periods - but something must have changed sufficiently for me to finally conceive. And that was pretty much my first lesson in what stress can do to your body.
House: A source of much angst and deserving of many entries of its own but I've realised with this studying lark that I really need to have a table somewhere. I've never had room to have one - even to eat off - apart from in the kitchen and it's too cold to work (or eat) in there so I decided to get rid of the cot in the front bedroom because Lilah has now outgrown it. That meant I could get a folding table an old boyfriend lent me situated by the window which is also handy for leaving my books and stuff on instead of carting them about all over the place. I remember using the same set up when I was doing the Open University Creative Writing course and it really worked quite well in terms of having somewhere to work, instead of doing it at the computer with a thousand and one other distractions.
This is when I had it set up in the OU days - apart from stuff on the windowsill and walls it's much the same:
Obviously it's not working quite so well right now I will admit but at least I've got the procrastination part out of the road - right?
It always amazes me when our bodies do this. I remember when Boyd & I were trying to get pregnant - it was a desperately stressful time because I was starting to realise his drinking was a very real problem and he had decided, after months of angst and refusing to even talk about it, he didn't want to be a Dad for no apparent reason. (I hasten to add he didn't have a moment of clarity or anything - the two weren't linked - he just decided it wasn't for him but couldn't discuss it and I was just expected to accept that.)
It was only then that I realised the lifeforce in me to become a mum was stronger than I had ever envisaged and that I would - without any shadow of a doubt - come to resent him if I went along with this and would probably have a meltdown when my biological clock stopped ticking. I still don't know if the path we took was the correct one (I mean in the circumstances) but take it we did and what fascinated me about that time was, once he told me he didn't want to be a Dad, I could not for the life of me swallow the tiny, tiny contraceptive Pill from that point on. It was like my body was completely rejecting it - so weird.
And then when, the following month, my period didn't appear I was overjoyed. Pregnant already!! Boyd was 9 years older than me and I didn't want us to be older parents if that was possible. However, sadly, I soon discovered that that was not the reason for the non-appearance and from that point on, my periods made sporadic visits for the next 6 months and then stopped altogether eventually for 2 years. So then I had a new worry with that happening - that I wouldn't be able to conceive at all. And then - presumably when things became slightly less stressful and I stopped focussing so much on it, I fell naturally pregnant with Nikki. The thing is that I would have been willing to bet that I was still as stressed as ever - as far as I was aware, I never stopped thinking about it and was constantly watching every month for the return of the periods - but something must have changed sufficiently for me to finally conceive. And that was pretty much my first lesson in what stress can do to your body.
House: A source of much angst and deserving of many entries of its own but I've realised with this studying lark that I really need to have a table somewhere. I've never had room to have one - even to eat off - apart from in the kitchen and it's too cold to work (or eat) in there so I decided to get rid of the cot in the front bedroom because Lilah has now outgrown it. That meant I could get a folding table an old boyfriend lent me situated by the window which is also handy for leaving my books and stuff on instead of carting them about all over the place. I remember using the same set up when I was doing the Open University Creative Writing course and it really worked quite well in terms of having somewhere to work, instead of doing it at the computer with a thousand and one other distractions.
This is when I had it set up in the OU days - apart from stuff on the windowsill and walls it's much the same:
Obviously it's not working quite so well right now I will admit but at least I've got the procrastination part out of the road - right?
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