Shit Week was a shit week

Last week was one of those weeks, that I could quite happily forget, but am not likely to.

Monday went pretty well, ordered a Fitbit to help me focus my stress into a positive avenue.

Tuesday, again, not too bad. Quite excited that my Fitbit would arrive on the Wednesday.

Wednesday, no Fitbit. Littlewoods fucked up royally. The package was refused upon delivery at the collection point I had nominated. I spoke to an adviser who advised that it was lost in transit and that I would have to order a second one. I spent 40 minutes on the phone, getting angrier and angrier, as she continued to ignore me as a phonetically spelled my place of work. After she had confirmed the delivery address, I realised she hadn’t put the company I work for at the start of the address. I was fucking raging!

I got home and phoned the company again. I was told I couldn’t speak to someone in the complaints department. I didn’t get off the phone until I did. I work for a customer service provider, where talking too people on the phone is a skill that we need to have. The woman I spoke to was rude and completely uncaring. Telling me repeatedly, “At the end of the day…” whilst putting me on mute (if the background noise disappears, you are on mute. If there is music, you are on hold) as I spoke. I was told that I had to look at my phone and wait for the status to turn to “Dispatched” before I HAD to call them to change the delivery address. I stated that with my line of work, that wasn’t possible as I wasn’t allowed my phone on me whilst working. “At the end of the day, we are a busy call centre, we can’t be expected to contact you…” for their error…. I was fuming! In the end, I cancelled the orders with them (I won’t be ordering from them again), and ordered from SimplyBe instead, next day delivery.

Thursday, no Fitbit. Hubby had to call them to make a payment. *Eyeroll*  I had Kiddo’s Parent’s evening. At the end of term last year, we had been told she would easily get a 5, ready for her placement into sets for Comprehensive. I was told, she was barely scraping a 3, due to the fact she didn’t care and was writing 6 lines, when she should be writing at least an A4 page in 40 minutes. So being a little annoyed, I then spoke to my sister.

Back in November, my father was admitted to hospital for Jaundice. He was as yellow as a minion. A stent put in his Bile Duct has helped sort that out. He had been told then that he had Pancreatic Cancer. The Biopsy was done in January. We were told at the end of the month that it was malignant. A T3 Endocrine Adenocarcinoma at the head of the pancreas that is too close to the vein and artery to operate. On Thursday, I was told something that confirmed my suspicions. Dad has about 18 months. The Consultant advised that they haven’t seen many people get past 18 months. A small percentage hit 18 months after diagnosis of the type of tumour he has. An even smaller percent live past 18 months. The Consultant has advised that they would start Chemotherapy as soon as. After 3 months or 3 weeks of chemo and 1 week of rest, they would scan him again to see if the tumour had shrunk. If it has they will try Radiotherapy. If it hasn’t shrunk, then it will be pain relief and palliative care.

As I am sure you are aware from my previous posts, my feelings towards my father have been hostile. When seeing him in hospital in November, I couldn’t hate him. I can’t forgive him, but I can’t hate him. I love him and can’t hate him. So Christmas was spent as a family. Together and enjoying each other’s company. It was nice.  My sister and I have been trying to help, as my mother has been forced back to work.

Friday, I spent most of the day crying. Randomly bursting into tears for random reasons. Fitbit arrived.

That night, my darling pussycat was in the bathroom, lying on her back and purring loudly. Hubby had mentioned that she had peed on the bathroom floor. Bitch Cat had never peed on the floor, ever. Normally in the bath, which must have seemed like a massive litter tray. Kiddo had cleared the mess up. Bitch Cat got up from her place behind the bathroom door and moved under the radiator. I went to bed.

Saturday, I was awoken at around 0450 by a coughing, growling crying fit that made me feel sick. I shot out of bed and to the bathroom. On the way, I saw my darling pussycat lying on the floor on the landing, with very laboured breathing. I picked her up and she was floppy. I screamed and cried out. I told Hubby that I wanted to take her to the Vets. He said “No, go sit with her”. I wrapped her up in a towel and as Kiddo was awake, we went to her room, with the light dimmed and held her to us. Kiddo got a chance to say goodbye. I had a chance to say goodbye. Pussycat took her last breath in my arms.

If I had stopped to dress and rush to the Vets, Bitch Cat would have died alone in the back of the car. She died at 0500. Kiddo and I were a mess. We were both glad that we got a chance to say goodbye.

If I hadn’t woken up, Kiddo would have found her and sat with her. OR she’d have woken up in the morning to a dead cat. Either would not have been a suitable option. Bitch Cat called us for a reason.

We had already planned to do things Saturday. We went to town, sorted my glasses out and Hubby’s glasses out. We then visited my Aunt (Mami2) and went for a walk up a mountain. When we came home, we laid Tabitha GingaBitz to rest in our garden. I cried a bit more.

RIP Tabitha GingaBitz Aka Tabby Cat Aka Bitch Cat Aka Old Girl Feb 2004 – 18th Feb 2017

So much stress this week it’s been hard for me not to turn back to my negative coping mechanisms. It’s one of the reasons I got the Fitbit.

My plan is to walk. A lot. Every 2 months, I will do a ParkRun (5km but walking it not running) with a backpack on with the weight I have lost so far. I plan to raise money for PancreaticCancer.org Increasing my distance and weight as I go.

 

So, here is an update. The paranoia has been going fucking nuts. The Dermatillomania/Body Focused Repetitive Disorder has been going into overdrive, so I have been crocheting like mad so I don’t rake my face and body apart. Crocheting is difficult to do when you sleep though. All the emotional turmoil over the last 3 months has had an effect. The Derp has struck and my glands are swollen and I am in agony. YAY, sandpaper pants!

A x

 

 

Time for an Update!

The last time I wrote here was back in March. SO SO much has happened since then. A shit load of stress for one!

I started my driving lessons in March, 2 lessons a week, 1.5 hours long. It wasn’t until the April that I started driving my own car in between the lessons. My confidence was growing, along with the self doubt and the stress levels. My Theory was booked for the 25th of May. I passed! A total score of 47 correct answers out of 50 on the multiple choice and got the highest Hazard Perception mark, despite one of the clips being disallowed because I clicked too frequently. 63 out of 75. I was breathing like a woman in labour the whole time. I was terrified. It was like going through 3 stage security before I went in and 2 stage on the way out.

Because of the disallowed clip, I thought I had failed. The lady on reception handed me the result in a little magazine and did nothing. No smile, no frown, nothing. Her poker face was perfect. I opened it up, saw the words “congratulations” and proceeded to sob! My sister was waiting in her car, as I got into her car I ugly cried. Snot, tears and hiccups. It wasn’t pretty. She started saying “But it’s okay, you can res….” “but I passed!” Was all she got from me.

I was a wreck. I vowed as a kid that I would never drive because I was terrified of my own aggression. BUT as a driver, I am not as scary as I was as a passenger. I was so proud of myself. Because I had passed, my instructor advised me to book a test for as soon as 3 weeks time. As it stood there wasn’t any available for 5 weeks.

 

My practical test was booked for the 5th of July. Yesterday. I did it. I passed! I couldn’t chuffing believe it! Seriously, me driving was not something I could completely comprehend. I never thought I would be behind the wheel of a car. Yet, here I am, 2 days after my test and I have been driving alone for 2.5 days (I went out after my test and when I had calmed down!). The independence and luxury it offers is incredible.

I can book appointments and know I will only have to take the morning off, or miss an hour or 2 of a shift. I can go places and do things in a time frame that wouldn’t be possible whilst depending on buses.

 

The stress of it all though, the last 5 months (I started lessons on the 2nd of March), has made me really ill with the Herpes. My glands have been so swollen at some points (only on my left side mind you), that it has been agony to walk. To sit even. I wasn’t sleeping and I was stressing so much. There was a constant battle between trying to calm myself down and convince myself that I could do it and the genuine freak out that if I didn’t pass, I would miss so much. The summer hols would be a squib and I would lose out on a chance for a weekend away with my Wifey (She is a Hufflepuff, I am a Slytherin) doing Harry Potter things. It’s our escapism. But it’s also a weekend of independence, time away.

With all the stress gone, I am running on empty. Honestly, I am unsure as to how I managed to keep going the way I did. I am so so tired now. Absolutely shattered. The last 5 months have caught up and my body is calling for a break. My bed is calling me so hard right now.

 

Things are looking up.

It’s fecking awesome!

 

A x