Tuesday 3rd - Exhausted

I'm lying on the couch. It's more comfortable for me than the bed as the back of the couch and the firm cushions help to support my back and my arm and the drain. I'm so exhausted that I can't move. It's very likely to do with the panadol I took at 9.40am (keeping a record of those so I don't overdo it). It's been a hard morning, especially because of the very very bad constipation I had from the other painkillers. The doctors warned me to keep a high-fibre diet. Here's me thinking a few spoonsful of metamucil might do the trick. Wrong. I must have been in there for an hour, in absolute agony and exhaustion. got help me if I ever have to give birth. L was kind enough to go to the supermarket and get a kiwifruit for me to help but while he was out I managed to help myself a bit. Yes, it was disgusting but I did get some rocks out plus a bit of blood too.

Back to the couch. I'm lying down and I can't speak, I can't open my eyes. All I want to do is to slip my mind away from the pain and the frustration and the weird pricklying sensations under my arm, and the drain and my sore arm muscles and my headache. Lying on the couch, with the breeze from the pedesatal fan on me, at least that part feels nice. I can hear L doing the dishes, on the phone to his brother S, asking S to ring back because he has to go to the toilet, going to the toilet, talking to S again about jobs, how much are you getting, you should go to Auckland, cousin C owes me a favour, he's probably out surfing, ring these guys I worked for, they might be ok or maybe not because I hooked C up with them and I don't know if he's ruined my name now, etc. L's voice fades away and I hear him tapping on the keys in the study. Finally, finally, I slip into a blissful painfree sleep.

It seems like a few seconds later: come one, wake up, would you like a cup of tea, how about a drink, you should drink something. Internally I panic and think I've been asleep for hours and hours. I'm so knackered and all I want to do is go back to that blissful non-existence. I don't want a cup of tea. No. Come on, sit up, it will be good for you to get up. I do manage to croak: Fuck off, and the strength it takes me to say something promptly makes me cry, hiccoughy sobs which pull on my drain and make my muscles ache (in my defense, I'd been watching a LOT of Outrageous Fortune). I ask what the time is: not yet 12. So I've been lying like a vegetable for about an hour and sleeping for less than that. I am so angry but I can't move. I can't do anything. I lie there listening to the tap drip and eventually figure it out.

This was the same as yesterday. I was resting on the couch and L wanted me to rest in bed. The last place I wanted to be was back in bed where I'd had possibly the most uncomfortable night's sleep and a sore back from lying in one position. But he wanted to play his xbox game. As soon as I did get up yesterday, on went the game. God knows why he can't hook it up to the other TV which is sitting in our room doing nothing? But now, today, I was so mad, with being woken up plus the tap's drip drip dripping, that I manage to get up and go to the bedroom, saying that all I want is to sleep in peace and to get better and you can have what you want the couch and your precious game. He shouted back that he was trying to help me and if I didn't want his help then he wouldn't give it... or something to that effect, probably harsher but I have this great knack of being able to instantly forget nasty things that people say to me. I'm pretty sure there were a few expletives in there. I did manage to lie on the bed (whose sheets have been promised to be changed for 2 days now... perhaps later I'll be up to that task), but couldn't sleep...

Fortunately, my mind was almost blank, I could look up into my brain and it looked exactly like a grey London sky with nothing in it whatsoever. I heard my phone ring and L speak to D about D coming over. I knew D was bringing lunch, which is why I wanted to rest as much as possible before then. I did get up, got myself a drink (opening the bottle was tricky), put my pyjama pants back on and came in here to work it out. A few minutes ago, I had an apologetic L come in saying yes he'd look after me. I'd prefer that to be on my terms, not his, but we'll see how things go. I've also decided to send him a bunch of flowers to say thank you for looking after me. He is the kind of person who needs a lot of thanks and positive feedback about the work he's doing. It's the same at his work - if he doesn't get regular praise from his boss/workers, he thinks they are plotting against him. I should have seen this coming, but to be honest, I've been bloody exhausted.

(While I'm on the predictions path, the next thing will be the course he's been doing. I bet he'll get to the end of this week and won't have worked on the course and then he'll berate himself for not doing it and how everything is going shit right now and he just can't seem to get a grip on his life and it's been like that for a while, everything's going wrong, something is working against us, doesn't know how to make it go away. It's been like that since we met - I sometimes wonder if I'm the thing which is holding him back. I'f he'd not met me, he'd have his own house by now... and his savings wouldn't be sucked away into looking after the invalid.)