In the spirit of always keeping it real, I needed to write about how I cried at the doctors today. Literally AT him, not just quietly either. Full blown, pacing around the room, mascara running down my face crying. It was pathetic. I was a mess. And those who know me in real life know that I don’t really cry that often so when I do, I like to do it properly. If a job needs doing and all that.

 

So why the breakdown? Frustration mainly. And pain. And a bit more frustration. I had bad news this week that I’m trying to deal with and on top of that, I’ve been in pain, in one way or another, for the last month. What’s annoying is that I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think I’ve mentioned here before that I’ve felt ‘out of sorts’ lately, well it started with a pain below my shoulder blade, and it’s moved around my body for the last few weeks. I went to the doctor (a different one thankfully) about a pain in my stomach that I had for a week … and so I got referred to a gynaecologist. I have endometriosis so they’re wondering if that’s flared up again. But it didn’t feel like that. And then it moved to my lower back. So I had some physio which not only left me skint (£35 for 20 minutes x 2), but frustrated me because it only temporarily eased any pain. And then it travelled to my left groin. And then the skin all around that area became tender.

 

AND OH MY GOD I’M FALLING APART!

 

No-one knows what’s wrong. Today’s doctor thinks sciatica, and he could be right, what with him being a doctor, but I think it could be kidney stones. So to stop my crying, he agreed to refer me for an ultrasound, but that appointment is going to take three weeks to come through. THREE WEEKS MORE PAIN.

 

What’s annoying me more than anything is that yes, I’m still very overweight, but I’m in the best physical shape I’ve been in for years. I’ve made a massive effort to look after my body these past 18 months and I feel like it’s letting me down at the moment, and I don’t know why. Shit happens I guess but GRRRR.

 

A lovely friend of mine that I bumped into at the weekend, said to me today that I am a strong woman and I need to tap into that strength. She’s right of course, it’s something I pride myself on because I haven’t always felt strong. But what do you do when you feel physically weak? Every tap of the keyboard takes all my strength. I didn’t even have energy to make my son lunch today. I slept on the sofa because I couldn’t climb the stairs. This isn’t like me at all.

 

Feeling physically weak makes me feel vulnerable, and although I think it’s important to show my emotional vulnerability, feeling physically vulnerable scares me to death. I’ve spent the last five years creating a safe and secure environment for my children, it’s why I gave up my office job … so I could be at home when they needed me, so if I feel I can’t protect them, I panic. And I think really, fundamentally, that’s what today’s tears were about.

 

I’m Mum AND Dad. I’m Dexter’s everything. Ben is a grown man and doesn’t really need me anymore but I’m there for him, in the background, nonetheless, should he ever want me. The ironic thing is, physically, Dexter is taller and stronger than me anyway but it’s MY job to protect HIM, not the other way around.

 

Five years is a long time to become and stay strong and maybe this is my body’s way of telling me I need to step off the hamster wheel for a short while. But I have so much to do! I want to travel, I NEED to travel. I want to fall in love again. I want to make and eat good food. I want to spend time with my friends. I want to write that bloody book!

 

The bottom line is I don’t have time to be unwell and as a lone, working parent, I can’t afford to. So I’ll take care of myself as best as I can. Have hot baths, take all the (prescribed) drugs, go to bed early, read, rest, drink coffee, and eat whatever I have the energy to make. The gym and salads will have to wait whilst I hibernate for a short while. And then, hopefully, I will wake up one morning and feel just a little bit better. It’s at times like this that I really miss my Mum, even at 47.

 

Until then, all dog gifs and offers of cake are welcome.

 

kate sutton

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