My first review

I have to admit, I was struggling for a topic for today’s blog post. I didn’t want to another ranty, woe is me, type blog post as surely you have to have had your fill of them by now.  But sadly, as I don’t really have anything else but looking after Mum going on in my life right now I am struggling for another other news.

Or at least I was.

Then I opened my emails today. My very first review.

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Granted it’s not a positive one, but hey I’ll take what I can get.

And I loved the little disclaimer at the bottom

Note: – We are not spammer. We found your emails through manually efforts.We are sorry if you get email 2 or 3 times. You can simply reply with “remove” so we will delete your email from our list.”

Well, I would hate to disagree with you, but according to Wikipedia a spam email “also known as junk email is a subset of electronic spam whereby a single unsolicited message is sent by email.” which I am pretty sure is exactly what this is.

Plus, if you found my email through ‘manually efforts’ doesn’t that mean I have appeared in some sort of search ? Which would imply my blog isn’t quit as God awful as you made it sound!

Hmm, think I might be hitting the delete button!

I can’t catch a break.

I don’t know what’s going on with my life at the moment but I seriously don’t seem to be able to get a break.
Obviously, everything with dad and then with mum has left me knackered. I’m so busy trying to fit in seeing people in haven’t seen whilst dealing with Dad that I’m not sure I’m going get
I’m so busy trying to fit in seeing people in haven’t seen whilst dealing with Dad that I’m not sure I’m going get a chance for a holiday this year. Which I know I shouldn’t moan about but seriously the idea of just sitting by a pool and doing nothing,  which usually would do nothing for me, but after this year just having no responsibilities and being able to focus on me – it appeals!
Honestly, I just want some sun and a bit of ‘me’ time.
However with things being up in the air with the move, at the moment the best I can do are weekend here and there with various friends. The idea is I get a few cheap nights away, where I can relax and be pampered, for once. The plan was to  drink plenty of wine,  talk about my Dad and just let them look after me a little bit.
That’s why I made a five hour trip on Friday night to see one of my friends, despite me worrying about leaving mum after everything she has been through. I felt if I didn’t get away I may have a complete breakdown.
I’d imagines a weekend sat in the sun in their garden, drinking wine, talking about Dad, being looked after and generally just getting a chance to recharge my batteries and have someone look after me for once.
However,  that hasn’t happened.
Firstly it’s rained. It’s rained the entire day and rather than needing sunscreen, I’ve spent the day searching for a blanket. But that’s not my big grr or the motivation for writing this post. After everything I have been through this year, it’s going to take more than a little rain to break me.
No, the thing that has gotten my goat, is that whilst I thought I was coming down for a quiet, self-indulging weekend, in fact I am coming down for a summer bbq and they have organised to have a house full. All weekend.
Rather than relaxing with my friend. I’m going to be stuck in a room full of strangers trying to make small talk for 48 hours.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew I could escape after a few hours but everyone is staying over and there is talk of a disco, dj and karaoke…
Had I known this was what I was signing up for when I came down I don’t know if I’d have come.
All I wanted was a weekend to talk about my Dad and have someone look after me. Was that really too much to ask for?
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And then the Internet broke

Ok, I am slowly becoming more and more convinced that my life is a version of The Trueman Show. Just when I think everything that could be thrown at us has been, something new comes along.

This week’s new challenge is the internet and the fact it has decided to break.

Earlier this week, Mum had a panic alarm fitted in the house. Ok, it’s not actually called a panic alarm but I don’t know of its real name. It’s a monitored phone line, she wears a button and if something happens to her, she presses the button and the police break down the front door. Usually, the police wouldn’t break down the front door, as you would keep a spare key outside in a key safe allowing people to get in. But with Mum hopefully (touch wood) being weeks away from completing on a house, we don’t want to buy an outdoor key so potentially, worst case scenario, if the alarm goes off, and Mum doesn’t answer the phone in time… but we will cross that bridge when it happens.

Anyway, I digress.

Since the alarm has been fitted, the internet at Mums has been a little bit iffy, and last night it officially gave up. We now have a red light showing for the internet and a constant “unable to connect” message on the YouView box.

Last night I had a go at fixing it. I have to admit, and the feminist in me is ashamed, I looked at all the cables, had a little play and gave it up as a bad job. I went to get our lovely next door neighbour, who is male but also an electrician and asked him to have a look. He had no idea, and suggested I get an extension cable.

S rang, asked about my night and when I told him about the internet, he spent the next hour looking up manuals online for me and making suggestions to see if he could get it fixed. It didn’t fix anything, and stopped me from watching the Bake Off, but it did earn the guy some massive brownie points. So I guess that is something at least?

This morning, the people who fitted the panic alarm (still not it’s actual name) went back to Mum’s, re-plugged in all the equipment and announced that the internet error was nothing to do with them. So I got onto the internet provider, or rather Mum did.

It did not go well.

Apparently, an automated machine told her they would need to check the line, it read out a number that she would have to call when the line was down and then promptly hung up on her and cut off the phone line.

Her panic alarm went bat shit crazy.  There was now no phone line and the alarm did not like this, she got calls and warning messages… at least we know the system works I suppose.

I then got onto the company, who when I finally got them to understand the problem, proceed to run more tests of the line before asking me what the “test socket” looks like. Spoiler alert – I have absolutely no idea.  But it’s not all bad news, I have been given a link to follow and now I get to go to Mums and take apart one of her phone sockets to discover what the test socket looks like.

Is it just me, but why can’t the company send out someone qualified to fix it? Someone who knows what they are doing and would quickly be able to rectify the problem? Rather than me, who has no idea and feels that this will not be a simple fix!

I’m officially done adulting.

 

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I’m done with today.

It’s 9.14 and I am already done with today. In fact, I am done with today, this week and getting close to being done with this life. I’ve officially, had enough. Stop the bus I want to get off!

I miss Dad. It seems to be getting harder every. single. day. I just want him back. I don’t get how he has gone. He was too full of life, too strong. He deserved better than this. He loved life soooo much. It’s not fair that he isn’t here to experience it.

Then despite getting up early, a morning in tears led to me being late to work when, and I have NO idea how this happened, it took me 20 minutes to put on a pair of tights – and no I am not exaggerating. No idea how but it genuinely took me 20 minutes to badly put on tights and thus I ended up being 5 minutes late to work.

Then, when I go to make my morning coffee I find out someone has thrown my lunch into the bin.

We have things that have been sat in the fridge for months, yesterday I throw away some bread rolls that were completely green they had been on the shelf for so long. Yet my “eat within three days of opening” tub of humus has been thrown in the bin – and it’s only Tuesday. If it was Wednesday and someone was being VERY anal about best before dates etc then I could be a little bit inclined to forgive them. But it is Tuesday and the tub was open on Monday (that’s one day) and the tub is still half full.

Add to that the fact I have messaged S saying I am not in a good head space and he hasn’t responded yet and I am about ready to…

Well, I’m not sure. Half of me wants to punch a wall, and half of me wants to curl up in a big ball and cry until the world fades away.

All I know is roll on tomorrow.

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The day work called out an ambulance for me… because of period pains.

Well, with everything else that has happened in the family, it was about time I got in on the drama. I have started to tell people that we, as a family, are making full use of the NHS before the Tory government get rid of it all together but that’s another rant for another day! Today, I am going to attempt to share a post about what I went through yesterday, although I am not sure how it is going to go as this is about my 6th time of writing it and I still don’t feel I am completely in the zone.

I have mentioned before that I have polycystic ovary syndrome and I even wrote (briefly) about  the time I passed out at work.  and it’s not something I hide, but I have to admit it is very hard to explain to someone exactly what it feels like or quite how awful it can be.

The last one I had, that was really bad, was over a year ago. I will be honest I was really hoping that maybe it was an age thing and I had finally grown out of them, but yesterday my bad periods came back with vengeance. I had prepared people that they can get bad, but I don’t know if I made too light of it or if they thought I was exaggerating how ill I can be, but either way my work ended up calling an ambulance out for me.

I came on about lunch time, and then everything was fine until about 3.30 when I started to feel a little discomfort. I borrowed some painkillers from a colleague and stuffed the wheaty I always carried with me into the microwave. I think I may be managed about another half hour before I was starting to feel a little unwell and so took myself off, with a pre-warned work colleague (pwwc), to a quiet area. In my defence, I did tell her if I pass out not to worry about it.

The pain started to radiate down my thighs and that was when I knew I was in for a bit of a bad one. Sadly I only had a small heat mat with me, and so I alternated it between my stomach and my thighs. Slowly I went from being able to stand, to kneeling on the floor, with my face shoved into the sofa and my fists balled into stomach, this is when pwwc went to get the boss – I think I freaked them out. I lost the ability to regulate my temperature and started to feel a bit nauseous so I sent pwwc to get me something I could throw up in – she came back with the washing up bowl.  I was sick twice.

Usually, when I get a bad period things start coming out of both ends and in this instance it did. I was sat on the toilet but unable to hold myself upright. Here I noticed that the toilet roll holder at work is in the wrong place. At home I can sit on the toilet and rest my head on the holder so I don’t have to remain upright. This was not an option, so instead I took inspiration from my new found love of yoga and did a half way bend, meaning I managed to place both my hands flat on the floor, head between knees whilst still sitting on the toilet. (big props to Adriene for making me so flexible – sorry to link to you from this post!)

Pwwc once again heated my wheaty and I made it back to the sofa where this time I lay flat out. At this point I had stopped caring what people thought or how I looked. The pain is the only thing I can focus on. I had pins and needles in my legs and I was using all my energy to try and figure out how I could rip out my uterus using only the power of my mind.

I think it was at this point the pwwc started to freak out.

I was just wanting to pass out and escape the pain.

I’m not sure exactly what happened next, but pwwc decided enough was enough and called 111, who in turn sent out an ambulance. At one point the controller at 111 asked if he could talk to me, and I refused. It’s really hard to explain it, but I was part able to or at least I could have possibly forced myself to rouse to talk to them, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to pass out.

Annoyingly, pwwc kept talking to me and so I didn’t fully pass out, more just kept drifting off as if to sleep.

As quickly as these sessions happen, they seem to go again. When the ambulance people arrived I was already in a position where I was able to talk and move and the pain had reduced significantly. Although apparently their monitors did show that my blood pressure was down a bit.

I felt like a fraud, I still do. I am mortified that I had period pains and they resulted in me having to have an ambulance called.

Interestingly, when all of this happened I had just opened the article on the Chinese swimmer Fu Yuanhui who admitted she didn’t do well in the 4 x 100 meter relay because she had had her period.

As I am getting older I have realised how much of an effect my cycle has on my body. With irregular periods it is impossible to know exactly what is happening when, but I do have days when I cannot get out of bed for love nor money and often will be in bed until well after I should have left for work. Once a month I have a day when I just cannot concentrate on work, and find myself easily distracted and a few days before I come on I can’t control my cravings and have been known to open a packet of crisps at midnight.

I find the whole period conversation a tricky one. Not in terms of talking about it, I mean I am very much an open book. But despite everything I went through yesterday in the back of my mind, I still feel like a fraud. An ambulance was called out because I came on my period. Millions of woman have periods once a month – am I a complete wuss that can’t handle pain?

The idea of having children terrifies me. If something as simple as period pains knocks me out what am I going to do if there is ever a person trying to come out of there and I have to deal with contractions?!

The paramedics asked me to return to my GP so I can get checked over, which is something I will do, but with them being so pathetic last time I am not in any rush. Plus, it’s really tricky, with no symptoms to show I really worry what people think when I tell them “I sometimes pass out from period pains”

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