I’ve not been writing , because I’ve been writing – same purpose, different arena.
Last Monday I had a GP’s appointment that was like a throw back to the 1990’s, but the difference being I’m over 30 rather than a teenager. We have rotating GP’s at our surgery. For about 2 years we’ve had some lovely young people who are in training. Today I saw a man who could not use the computer system, or the printer, and typed with one finger. There is a place for these GPs, and perhaps if things had come out negatively for me, I would blame it on this chap being old and not up to scratch. However, this GP is old school in another way. He just asked me what I wanted. So I told him. I wanted to report the increase of my seizures and migraines. I wanted him to look at some strange brown marks that have bloomed on my temples* and I wanted him to write a letter for me explaining how my many medical problems affect me, for use with my ESA50.
So he made a note of the Seizures and Migraines, asked me if I was seeing a Psychiatrist – yes (in August). He looked at the brown marks, ordered a blood test. Then he did something could have gone either way. He asked what I had wrong with me – I listed, and corrected (he wrote Ehlers-Danlos as Eires Dunlops). He type the list and then told me ‘You write the letter, send it to ***** (Surgery Manager) and we’ll sign it’.
Last year I was in this exact situation, but I was so insane form grief and fear that I could not write the letter. Last year I had just had my ESA removed (fear) and learned my Mother was going to die soon (grief). The letter didn’t happen, my ESA appeal didn’t happen… But this year, I was prepared for having to write a letter, and also, I was in a completely different mind set – I was furious. Underlying anger was (and is) around. So I’ve spend a week, every night, adding a paragraph in pencil, to my letter. I couldn’t do it all at once. I would suffer mental and physical burn out, and also I would write things in an un-useful way. Too much or too little emotion. Too much or too little blunt, horrible fact. You have to be in the right frame of mind for these things. But it’s better than the GP who doesn’t know me writing it. I don’t know what ***** ( Surgery Manager) will do to or with it. But I’m letting him know everything – even if it makes us both squirm and look at each other differently.
Apart from writing, what have I been doing? Cursing the heat, and being very depressed. Heat+ Menses = Sad Bowerman. My emotions have been up and down and side to side. I’ve really struggled this week. Depression, Anxiety and a lovely touch of Suicidal Ideation. All in a bath of sweat. External forces (people) have been a small fuel, but really it’s just me. I have been less fighty than usual with this, because it would impede my ESA letter work. But I have been feeding my brain films. Films really help me. I’m a visual person – excluding reading, which I find really, really difficult. So this week I have watching things I would not usually watch (a delicious, guilty pleasure) and Old Favourites: Thor, Filth, Enigma and Saraband for Dead Lovers. Thor and Filth were new and a delight. The latter has been added to my favourites. Be warned, it’s a difficult movie – mental illness, drugs, drink, sex and suicide. ‘Thor‘ was lovely harmless fluff. Enigma: this came out when I was at Uni, and was on Sky very soon after. When I had my breakdown and car accident in 2002-3**, I sat watching this over and over. It’s harmless, well acted and has an excellent score. Some of my favourite actors are in it. It’s good enough to take me out of myself. Saraband for Dead Lovers is an odd film. A 1948 Technicolor Ealing film, a sad, true love story set in the 1690’s – unusual for films, about the Court of Hanover that would become our Monarchy. It’s a curio, and a worthy one. I can’t watch it over and over, I’ll admit – but it spurs my imagination. The female costumes are accurate and lovely.
*I am incredibly pale, my family is riddled with Cancer – I get odd skin marks, I see the GP. Because I only have one working eye, I can’t see my temple where the marks are clearly, but they are big and dark enough for me to see them with my one eye. It it’s age, c’est la vie – I’m lucky I got here.
** In one month I had a Mental Breakdown, was put on my first Anti-Depressants and then had a car accident that wrecked my neck. I went back to Uni in a neck brace. I survived the year, but could not take the exams, so I had to repeat. I found the situation hilarious – mental and physical wreck, while still attending classes and spending nights watching Sky Movies – I saw so many films and they made my life better. I forget this all the time, and have to be reminded. I don’t drink, I don’t take non-prescription drugs, I watch movies. Hours and hours of pretty, moving pictures.
Filth: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1450321/ – I’m gonna read the book now.
Enigma: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0157583/?ref_=fn_al_tt_2 – based on Bletchley Park.
Saraband For Dead Lovers: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0040758/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1
A Sarabande by Handel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSAd3NpDi6Q