Stuffed Crust Face

I am allergic to 2 things. Just 2. I know I am lucky. Those 2 things are Penicillin and Diclofenac. An anti-biotic and an NSAID. Having been unable to sleep on Tuesday night, early Wednesday morning found me padding to the kitchen to get pain relief gel. I grabbed the one most recently prescribed and rubbed it on my ankles, knees and elbows: the bits keeping me awake. I noticed it smelled really nice. Queue waking up 6 hours later with dead arms and hands that felt like the meat bursting through a sausage skin as it’s cooked, while my head felt ‘stuffed’. Apart from visibly chubby hands (being EDS I naturally have thin, boney, pointy hands which can cause strangers great pain), I looked fine. But fuck, did I feel rough. All the bites I’ve gained from animals this year were itching up a storm and my breathing was buggered.

I scrabbled around for an Anti-Histamine (I don’t have many, as I so rarely need them) I decided to read the gel’s box. It was Volterol and it was Diclofenac. Fuck me sideways. This was given to me by my GP, and handed to me by the Pharmacist who has a list of my allergies. Wednesday was meant to be an active day for me, but it ended up with me being in bed and actually sleeping with my hair tied back. Having returned to the bed at 4pm I woke at 11:30pm still feeling like shit. I feel like shit today. I still feel like my face is stuffed like a Pizza crust.

I’m very sweary at the moment – I’m very direct as well. I go through phases of this. I’ve begun writing well considered posts about lots of stuff, but I need to just slough it off and push it out. Before I went to Vienna I was suicidal, I was suicidal in Vienna. It went away a bit when I saw New Things. I thought *BINGO* I feel like me. But it returned rapidly. Stress bought it back – within hours of being home I was being asked about curtain poles and similar things. When was I going to sign up for that course I wanted to do? When were we going to choose the carpet? Monday we went to look for carpet and curtain fabrics. Tuesday I volunteered and couldn’t sleep. Wednesday I managed to poison myself. Today (Thursday) I phoned the Centre for Disability Blaaaah to make another WCA date, and went to sign up for a Calligraphy Course*, and then went and looked at more curtain fabrics, and had dinner with my Brother and Dad. And now I’m sitting here. I still have a fucking headache from Tuesday, I’ve not had a proper shit in 2 weeks, I got dizzy and nearly fell down an escalator and I couldn’t hear the lady registering me for my course ‘cos SSCD. I’ve not been in a learning situation since my SSCD was diagnosed and got worse this year, now I’m worried. I’m managing to write this because I’ve taken a Rizatriptan** and had some Kir Royales. My left ankle is throbbing and my chin is a mass of boils. I feel about 70 and I have no idea where tomorrow’s dose of Citalopram*** is.

Musical Interlude:

From Henry Purcell’s ‘Dido and Aeneas’. If you don’t know it, give it a whirl – an early opera in English. Purcell died of a cold he caught after being locked out of his house by his wife – he came home too late from the tavern.

I am still depressed, I am still thinking of suicide. And hurting myself. I want to smack my head on things and sleep is not helping. I have earache and I have no fucking idea of why they have made another version of ‘Ben Hur’. I have a Birthday Party on Saturday which will be full of cool, stylish people – truly, people featured in magazines and such like. I’m concerned for my Dad’s health and my Brother’s life (stressed-banker, 3 kids at fee paying school, gigantic mortgage) and I miss my Mum. Cleaning the kitchen surfaces and hob (not been done for months – I don’t want to die of food poisoning) brought her back powerfully. Urgh. Right, I’m going to bed. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll take a laxative and hopefully something will happen.


A photo from Vienna: Antonio Canova – Memorial to Archduchess Maria Christina – Augustinerkirche c.1805. Picture by me.

*Part of the 2014 State Sponsored plan for me to become self-employed – ended by my ESA being retracted. Started again with my low level ESA being re-awarded. I want to be able to offer a mixed bag of services to people – illustration, calligraphy, all personal, all hand made. I’ve done hand lettering before, but the script was my own, not one recognised.

**Migraine meds: if nothing else works to make me feel normal, I take one. They are very powerful. I should not be using them this way, but it was do that or try to sleep on the floor in John Lewis, or smash my head into things.





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