The only two things I've managed to get down me today - left over pasta sauce from last night's bolognaise, an apple and some sweets.
Rubbish, hey? Let me explain. When I was a full-blown bulimic I had terrible IBS and would often get bad cases of rush-to-toilet-or-else syndrome. Then of course my bingeing merged with the new-found joys of alcoholism and I found myself living on the loo in the mornings. As any alkie will tell you, not pleasant. How can your excretions smell SO much of vodka!? Eww. Makes me feel queasy thinking about all that time I passed trying to hold my breath whilst getting it over as fast as possible...TMI?!
So after all the drama of my ED and drink-induced bad bowel habits, I finally started to get regular and happy in that department. It's funny how things go in waves, hey? Just when I thought I might actually be NORMAL in one, small, private department...my doctor put me on a Morphine-based painkiller.
When people spy a patch on my chest/back/arm and ask me what it may be, and after I've told them, No, I'm really not trying to quit smoking, I tell them it's morphine and they go all funny-eyed and pass comment on the unpleasant *cough* 'constipation that seems to be an all-too-well-known side effect in my social circles.
Awkward hey?! I suppose it diverts attention away from the other questions about WHY I need pain drugs...which inevitably lead to me repeatedly spelling out the name of my condition, or shouting it in peoples' ears at the pub. It really irks me when they then proceed to tell me utterly brave I am, and how utterly terrible and crushing it must be to live like that...well, no, not really?! I have legs and arms and they work, don't they?! Funnily enough they don't talk to the guy in the wheelchair next to me at all. Strange how the world works.
So, today. Good in that I didn't do anything bad. A bit boring, actually. I suppose the dog getting me up at an ungodly hour to go for a pee was the highlight of the day, especially as we were both shivering and sleep-walking our way around the block. The sun hadn't even bothered to get out of bed. I swear Sunday mornings are like a ghost town where I live. Tut.
Anyway, then me and said dog retreated upstairs under the covers for a good few more hours, and woke up to glorious sunshine (hooray!). Unfortunately, my joints are being sucky today so OH took the dog out to play without me, boo. We did get out briefly to run a couple of errands, but otherwise it has been a hermit day. I have read too many blog posts, watched too much TV and felt increasingly bloated and uncomfortably about my football belly that REALLY needs to get moving! Just took some of the dreaded sugary-syrupy bowel mover medicine. Yum. It really is stupidly sweet. I generally hold my breath and swallow a gallon of water on top of it. I don't mind sugar but I hate sweet drinks. Even 'real' Coke sets my teeth on edge. Yuk.
My parents have decided to pay a VERY spontaneous visit on Tuesday *as in, only told me yesterday and have given me NO time to clean/tidy/sort out the mess that is our house*. Dear dear, it would be so much nicer if they warned me well in advance. Last time I stressed so much about my darling mother staying overnight that I spent WAY too long ironing the bedsheets (something I have never attempted in my entire life, before or since), only to have my mum in hysterics that I would think of doing something so daft. I probably would have been a better host had I remembered to get food and supplies in the house - as it was, we ate out. God bless parents and their supply of cash for such emergencies.
Been very quiet on the gigging front, and my amp is still broken, despite a desperate last ditch attempt to repair it today with a new part. I have conceded that I shall have no choice but to send it back for repair. I've had it a month, jeeeeeeeeez! What else could possibly go wrong in musical-instrument-land?! Well, my new keyboard has a sexy flight case that was custom made and I bought on Ebay for a scandalously good price. Thank the lord, as it would have cost me about £350 new, and I paid around £85 including postage. Bargain! It still adds up to around 36 kilos of dead weight though. Bearing in mind that's about 8 kilos less than me. Ouch. Heavy. Good job the band is made up of three males plus one weak, pathetic female, so I get away with murder when it comes to batting my eyelashes and looking useless in the strength department.
Tomorrow, then....dog walk, clean, clean, clean! Countdown begins. T minus 36 hours. Help!
Oh, and I reckon if I don't have babies I should be allowed at LEAST one more adorable doggy to ease the pain! I'm working on it...
Although G is SO my baby, don't think he'd take it so well.
Night all x