A week away

So I've been silent this week.

I was taken to hospital via ambulance Sunday and here I remain. Today is day 7, mothers day. Perhaps the crappest day (yes I said crap!) to be away from your child and your mother but both will visit this afternoon.

It's been a long week. I have been on meal replacement since I arrived and whilst I was doing a great job building them up I can't bare to look at them now! Still down they must go!! At a whopping 300 calories a 'shake' my aim set out by the dietian is 6. Yesterday I managed a miserable half. But I did have a 'build up soup'. Good for me.
Today I've just stuck the straw in the second. It doesn't sound it but I really am trying my best.

I have swung between bright and crashing. I was on a morphine pump for 5 days which didn't do me much good. It's an evil thing to put in your system.

Being off the morphine now I feel much more like the me I am use to but I must admit to feeling a bit miserable today. What can I say, it's mothers day and I am home sick.

My body has also been through a traumatic amount of pain this week as the nurses on the first ward failed to understand the importance of consistent pain management. One night I was left for an hour and a half in sheer agony as my stomach spamsed and pulled me forward each time causing my hip to dislocate. My husband ended sat on the bed relocating my hip and trying his best to hold it in place as I squirmed in agony. I don't scream or shout in pain. I become trapped in by it. Unable to voice it. Maybe if I did scream I would have been given the pain medication sooner. All this because my canula had been taken out and only doctors are allowed to put them in. This trauma and Sundays trauma will slowly be worked out in my mind as it does with all pain trauma. It feeds it to me in bite size portions. Thank God.

So far I am not responding to any treatment and have picked myself up another chronic illness. A common sub syndrome of the hypermobility syndrome called 'dysmotility syndrome'. Basically my bowel is buggered. It can be managed with medication (for life) and diet but need to get the damn thing working again first. Joy.

It's hard to be yourself in hospital. You're surrounded by people whose spirits are struggling. Bless them. It dawned on me today how much I miss the sky and the breeze.

I can't even begin to feel how much I miss my daughter and my husband.

I am angry with my body for ignoring my demands to get well. Doesn't it know I have a life to live?!

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Since writing the above I have had Amelia-Rose, Tony, Mum and Dad to visit and we sat outside IN THE SUN for over an hour. God it felt so insanely good to feel a breeze on my face.

I just hope I can get home soon and regain my previous strength. A week in bed has done my muscles no good at all. I walked today and was shocked what such a short distance did to provoke such painful muscle fatigue. This is absolutely not going to be the new norm. I am NOT going to leave here in a wheelchair and not get out of it. Lord no that is not going to happen.

A wonderful fabulous friend gave me a book about the amazing artist Frida Kahlo. What a woman. I so relate to her story and her paintings. She lived with the most debilitating pain and yet achieved so much as an artist. A true inspiration.

It's been amazing to read the book of her life and see her paintings when I am suffering so much with my own body.

What I wouldn't give for a healthy body...

You can't be pitiful and powerful though so best bury that pity....