I’ve not written here for quite a few days, and I’m humbled that whenever I go off grid of any significant length of time, I start to get emails and calls enquiring as to my well being.
The truth is, I am sick. Only not that type of sick.
My daughter brought something home from school, a wonderful package of high temperature, sore throat, sickness, stuffy nose, coughing, inability to stay away during the day, inability to sleep during the night.
I think they call it the lurgy. If there’s one truth in our house, its that if she comes home with so much as a sniffle, I am sure to follow straight after. I’ve been down for almost a week, and the constant tiredness – I’m presuming – has also brought with it a flare up in my epileptic seizures.
You’ll remember, perhaps, that I’m temporarily on the wonder drug – Clobazam. The moment I started taking it, my seizures just stopped. Great I thought. But then they started again. Then they stopped. Then – two days ago – they started again.
Not such a wonder drug, then. I can’t stay on it too long because it melts your brain, though my GP has just done a repeat prescription to carry me through until I see my neurologist.
Yes, finally, I have my dates. I was promised my next MRI scan – the one where the doctors declare whether my tumour is stable or otherwise – would be in February.
It’s actually going to be on Friday 1st March. Then I have the painful nearly two week wait until I see my neurologist for results day on Tuesday 12th March.
So, it’s all happening a month later than I’d hoped. Which wouldn’t bother me, except it looks like I’ll have to live with these intermitted seizures in the meantime. I can only change my epilepsy drugs when I see my neurologist.
For now, I’ll just have to put up with whatever my brain throws at me.
So, sorry for going quiet for a while. You can blame the primary school children, with their snotty noses and germ distribution network.
I hope to be back to my normal writing, cycling and complaining self very soon.