Hello reader(s?!). As you may know, life can get awfully busy when things are good. I dread the days where I have time to write this blog - not dread the writing (I really love my little outlet), but the free time. Free time inevitably means i'm not working, which for the majority of this past year has kept me at a level of health I hope to achieve all the time. I've been active, i've been busy, I haven't had time to let the bugs in, the malaise grow, or the idleness spread its rotten fingers through organs and limbs.
I had my first bit of time off recently - I worked from mid April until the beginning of September at Diffusion the PR agency, then almost straight away started at Penguin, which is where I have been until a couple of weeks ago (and am still due back.) I was so excited for my holiday, but I could feel the exhaustion settling in as holiday time approached - suddenly the allure of a rest and some travel made getting up each morning to go to work feel like moving lead. But, yes! Holiday! I gatecrashed the parents holiday to go see my brother in Riga, who is doing some time there for his uni course. Off we flew, to a land of crisp cold air, fantastic sunsets and yummy beer. It was fun seeing the brother - seeing him operate in this rather alien land, where every building either reminded me of old fashioned aristocracy, or communist Russia.
The day after returning was halloween, where I exhausted myself even more by hosting a party, which is great fun, almost too much fun - I don't think I even got out of bed the day after. A few days later, I started to get a pain in the very tips of my lungs, at the back. Shit, I thought, so promptly did extra physio - I even got all nostalgic on mum by getting her to do some patting physio to shift this, what I presumed was, stuck-in mucus and the onslaught of infection. But this pain was rather odd. It kept moving. I was still coughing like a mad woman, so it was certainly puzzling. A couple of days later, the pain was sharp and spazzing, but now at the front. Fuck, was it liver? Next day, I wake up to find a small but definite rash line on my tummy, and combined with the excruciating pain, decided the best move was to pop off to A and E. Later that day, the consultant took one look at my notes, a look at my rash, and told me I have shingles.
Shingles! WTF. As my immune system is practically non-existent, I can now apparently catch old people diseases like shingles (which isn't an old person's thing, just sounds it, like asprin.). When i'm run down, and now immuno-supressed, dormant virus' like this, the chicken pox virus can now reappear as my poor immune system can't keep it under-wraps. I'm eagerly awaiting what next random thing I get... not really. Well this shingles has been a right pain in the arse. It's the most pain i've experienced in a long time, and as it's nerve, not many painkillers get it. Thankfully now, a week later, the pain has subsided, and I now just feel like viruses have completely invaded my body and are zapping all the energy my little body can muster. The rash is definitely quite cool, apparently, it's textbook shingles. Laughably so. I didn't find it funny when the doc said that this afternoon but hey ho. I replied with "well I don't do things by halves" before sulking again. Here's proof: it's quite a beast! (check out the sneaky bit of scar!)
Reason for sulking: i'm now on the 'urgent' waiting list for a bed in Hotel Brompton, which I am less than happy about. I desperately want to return to Penguin - I had a pipe dream that I could go back in a week, but I don't see that happening anytime soon now. It sucks, but I know its the right thing to do, as I feel utterly steamrollered. It's almost been a whole year since I was in last, which is a huge change to last year, where a good half of my year was spent in hospital. I'm hugely pleased. I hope this picks me up so I can return to being a poorly paid slave to books, which I secretly not so secretly, love.
Bye for now! Shingles-ridden-Laura x