What an idea. Tomorrow. I’ve often been told the theory that time is a human construct, and that it only exists in our heads; let me attest that this is very, very wrong. I have laid and stared at the ceiling long enough to know that no matter what, time waits for no man, nor will it rush. At 2 in the morning, it will not skip to 7 just so you’re through it; that would be too easy! As you may be sensing from my tone, I’m a little frustrated at present. This is because of many things, the main reason being that once again I am stuck in bed with an illness making me so weak I cant even use my phone to text the people I so desperately need the support of at 2 in the morning when time won’t rush for me.
As in my last post, I have been recovering from an infection. The markers in my blood showed good improvement, my mood was the best I’ve been in months, and I was almost fighting fit again! Until Monday evening that is. I came back to the hospital after a lovely day out with my incredible better half Sarah Jane, and immediately my health dropped. I was put back to bed, shivering like I never have and feeling like ice; the problem was, my temperature was high.
Potential infection again, more bloods, more sleepless nights, and that brings us to Wednesday. Wednesday I was moved into isolation, I am nursed by staff wearing blue gowns and masks, and even my family have to wear gloves to be in the room with me. I’m confined to this 15 foot squared room until I am better. I’ll not get into the condition much, but my new accessory is commonly known as C. Difficile, and is a hospital’s nightmare.
So, from around midnight on Wednesday I have been confined to my bed, and confined to my room until cleared by the infection team. That could be soon, could be a while, but once again, the time marches on and we hurry up to wait. I wait now to get back to my therapy, my OT sessions and physio. I wait to crack on and get out of this place. We always knew this road would be tough, but nobody said it would be like this.
Enough complaints, I need to look at the positives. As I lay here, at just before midnight on saturday, I have the pictures of all my family looking across at me from the picture collage Sarah created to brighten the room. My guitar, Sapphire, sits proudly by the window. I have more cards than I can cound pinned up on the wall next to me, positive thoughts and prayers from all that sent them. I thank everyone that has taken the time to get in touch, send a card etc. It means so much to me.
My family have been a blessing this week. Sarah staying in the hospital overnight with me so I’m not alone, my mum doing the same. Sarah decorating my room (which is now much more homely). My mum just sitting watching tv with me. My dad rushing to finish work, to come sit and chat about the rugby. I’ve got some brilliant people in my life.
I hadn’t planned to write this post at all, so I can only apologise if it makes no sense. One final thought I have to make off the top of my head, is that this week I really have seen how situations like this can push you to your limits and beyond. There is no release when in a situation like mine, you just have to do as you’re told. But that doesn’t mean that you’re alone. Talking is far and away the most effective thing to keep sane, especially when everything that happens is sending you the other way. Theres no shame in laying your feelings out on the table, and getting the help you need to get you through. I’m lucky that I have professional help on tap, but that’s not only what I mean. I’ve very quickly learned that I need is family and friends around me. My psychologist is brilliant, and helps immensely. But for me, opening up to Sarah is what has got my head in the right place again, or at least heading that way. So Sarah, I love you for that even more. My mum too, love ya.
These are the hardest months of my life. This is probably going to be another bad week. But that won’t break me, and I’ll come back stronger.