Thoughts That Go Through My Head In Hospital Waiting Rooms

I've spent a lot of time in hospital waiting rooms over the last five years, waiting for appointments that I hoped would give me a full diagnosis to explain my chronic pain, or provide me with some relief from my symptoms. Consultations, blood tests, X-rays, scans, physiotherapy, acupuncture, facet injections, manipulation... the list of appointments goes on. Basically, I've had so many hospital visits, sometimes I feel like I live there.

I probably spend more time in the waiting rooms than with the doctor, nurse, or physiotherapist, because appointments are rarely on time. Depending on the reason for my visit, waiting around can stir up all kinds of thoughts and emotions, from fear to boredom, causing my mind to go in to over drive and over think to pass the time. All kinds of thoughts have been known to enter my head while I've been in waiting rooms, so for kicks, I'm going to share a bunch of them with you today.  Why? Because I can.

♥ Why are pain clinics and physio departments always so far away from hospital entrances?

♥ Why is it so hot in here? Have I entered the gateway to hell?

♥ Why are all these people staring at me? Is it because I'm fat, young (ish), wearing loud clothes, don't look ill? Are they wondering what's wrong with me? What?

♥ Seriously, why won't they stop staring at me? I hate this.

♥ How much longer do I have to sit here? My appointment was 23 seconds ago.

♥ I hope I don't have to strip down to my underwear or wear a hospital gown today. Please let me keep my clothes on.

♥ Am I wearing matching underwear? Nice underwear? Did I remember to shave my legs? No? Shit. I'll definitely be stripping down to my underwear today, then. And in front of the fit osteopath. Fuck.

♥ Does anybody actually read those random magazines about fishing, rambling, and hunting?

♥ Why are appointments never on time, even when you're one of the first of the day?

♥ I wish I was in bed, in my PJs, blogging, and having a Netflix marathon.

♥ Why am I the only patient here under 50?

♥ Will the doctor / nurse / physiotherapist be kind and try to help me, or will they just dismiss what I'm saying and shoo me away? Will they believe me? Judge me? Treat me like I'm wasting their time?
♥ Will they treat me badly because I'm fat?

♥ Will they assume my health problems are just down to being fat?

♥ Is this appointment going to be a waste of time, or will it be another step forward?
♥ I've got nothing to worry about; it's going to be fine.

♥ Mother, chill. You're stressing me out. 

♥ Must not laugh out loud at hilarious meme / Tweet / Facebook status/ Instagram photo on my phone. Must. Not. Laugh. Oops, too late.

♥ I wish I'd remembered to bring a drink in with me; my mouth is as dry as the Sahara. They really should have vending machines or water coolers in this hospital.

♥ I hope I don't have to write or sign anything today; my hands are so shaky!

♥ I must look like my body is shaking from fear or a drug addiction. This is so embarrassing.
♥ I wonder what health conditions, ailments, or injuries these people have.

♥ I wonder if any of these people have any of my health conditions. I wonder if any of them are going through a similar situation.

♥ Either somebody has a voodoo doll of me, or body, you are being one mean son of a bitch. Pain, this is no time to throw a tantrum. Do you want to have us hospitalised? Don't make me come down there!
♥ I really don't feel so good. Hurry up, doctor, so I can go throw up and get home to bed.
♥ My back and legs are killing me. I don't think I can take this pain much longer. Body, why do you hate me?

♥ Do I look as bad as I feel? Do I look ill, or do I look perfectly healthy to all these people?

♥ I should have brought my book with me. Why did I leave my bag in the car?

♥ I hate these uncomfortable waiting room silences.

♥ What did the blood tests / scans find? What will they diagnose me with this time? Has anything improved or worsened since the last one?

♥ What will the plan of action be this time? New medication? More physiotherapy? Injections? Acupuncture? Mummification? Ritual sacrifice? A magical elixir made from the blood of my enemies?

♥ Please, Jebus, don't let him send me for another claustrophobic scan, like he was considering doing last time. Anything but that. Save me, Jebus! *Has silent panic attack.*

♥ Where's Doctor McSteamy when you need him?

♥ I need some fresh air.

♥ I wonder if I can convince my Dad to take a detour through McDonalds on the way home...
♥ I hope he's not too bored waiting around for me in the car / coffee shop.

♥ Aw, it's lovely that the elderly man sitting across from me is taking care of and reassuring his poorly wife. / It's sad that that lady is here alone. / It's sweet that that man's got so much love and support from his family.
♥ I wonder what crimes the two guys handcuffed to Police in front of me have committed. I wonder what they're here for. (This happened when I was getting physio at a hospital in Oxford a few years ago).

♥ How much longer do I have to sit here? My appointment was 45 minutes ago.

♥(Another 45 minutes later). This is taking the piss now. How much longer is he going to b- FINALLY! Hallelujah! The old geezer didn't die at his desk after all. All is forgiven.

♥ Okay, my legs and backside have gone to sleep.
♥ (Stiff from sitting in a chair for so long, walking across to the doctor). I feel like the little old lady from the Tweety Pie cartoons.
♥ I hope he doesn't mind shaking my slightly sweaty hand. *Quickly wipes hand on dress.*

♥ Okay, let's do this!

What goes through your mind in hospital or doctor's surgery waiting rooms?

Health Update | August 2015

I've been meaning to write this health update for ages, but I've been so stressed and drained lately that the words just haven't come. My head has been all over the place, and with so many thoughts somersaulting around up there, causing me a lot of worry, I've been finding it difficult to concentrate on anything.

There has been quite a few developments with my health since the Spring, and the journey has been heavy, over-whelming, and at times a little frightening. That probably sounds like I'm being over-dramatic, but I'm not trying to be; it's just the way it was.

If you've been following my blog for a while (and have a good memory), you might remember that at the start of the year I had a bunch of blood tests done to check for, or rule out, any underlying inflammatory conditions that could be contributing to my health problems. At the time, I was having difficulty sorting out an appointment with the spinal specialist to chat about the results, but I was eager to hear it from him because I didn't believe my useless GP when he told me they were negative.

Well, after a four month wait, I finally got an appointment with the specialist in late April or early May. He was shocked by what my GP had told me, since the tests showed a few abnormalities, and an underlying inflammatory condition! Why was I not surprised? He told me I most likely have some form of arthropathy, which is a collective term for inflammation and disease of the joints. To find out for sure, I needed the specialist help of a rheumatologist, so I was referred to a colleague of his at the same hospital, and more blood tests were ordered.

Two weeks after that, I met with the rheumatologist for the first time. Being a first consultation, that appointment was mostly about gathering all the information about my health, and medical history, something I've done so many times I practically have a speech memorised. He looked through all of my CT and MRI scans from last Summer, and while they show a lot of inflammation in my body, he didn't see enough to send alarm bells ringing. "Get this girl to intensive care, NOW!" Like the spinal specialist, he believed it was likely I have some form of arthropathy and not something along the lines of rheumatoid arthritis. He wanted to see the results of the new blood tests to gather more information before ruling anything out, though, which were, typically, scheduled for the following day. Sod's law!

So, the next morning I had my blood tests. Or, I should say, the first round of blood tests.  I had eight vials of blood harvested , and went on my merry way, a little worried about what the tests might find, but blissfully ignorant to the fact things were about to get ugly.

Less than a week later, I had a missed phone call from my Doctor's surgery, early in the morning. I phoned back in the afternoon, and the receptionist told me I needed to have more blood tests done. I was a little surprised, but I arranged an appointment anyway, and spent a few hours worrying why I needed to have more. What was wrong? What had they found? I eventually managed to push all health and medical related thoughts from my mind, and by half eight, I was even giggling away at The Big Bang Theory. Then, just before 9pm, the house phone rang...

We don't get a lot of phone calls on the land-line at that hour, since everybody uses their mobiles these days, so I had an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. The fear only grew as I heard the thunderous sound of my Dad's heavy footsteps climbing the stairs to give me the phone. He didn't know who was calling, but thrust the phone in to my hand. It turned out to be a doctor from the surgery. The doctor who had phoned early in the morning, and one I'd never met or spoken to before.

It was 9pm on a Thursday night... I knew that wasn't a good sign. 

Doctors don't phone patients at that hour if nothing is wrong.

It scared the shit out of me.

She told me that the first lot of blood tests revealed I have severe calcium, vitamin D, and phosphate deficiencies, and that she needed me to get my kidney bloods tested ASAP, because the deficiencies could be a sign of a couple of serious kidney problems. Well, naturally, that last piece of news frightened the crap out of me. I kept my cool, but inside my heart was hammering and my mind was going a mile a minute.

I tried to reassure myself that it wasn't all caused by something as serious as a faulty kidney, because I knew of two simpler explanations. One, I've been house bound for almost four years now, and have barely made it out of the house all year, so I've not been getting the vitamin D we all need from the day light. Two, I've not been eating enough foods rich in calcium because most dairy products make me ill, so I'm pretty certain that the calcium deficiency is just down to my diet. The doctor agreed I was probably right, and mentioned putting me on vitamin replacement tablets if the kidney bloods came back clear. She then arranged appointments for the blood tests the following week, and another to give me the results over the phone. She seemed really on the ball, asking lots of questions, taking an interest, explaining the situation in detail, and suggesting what might happen next. For the first time in four years, I felt like a doctor on the NHS was finally taking me seriously and seemed to know what they were doing! I don't know if she's a permanent doctor at my surgery (she's new), but I might stick with he if she is.

So, after that phone call, I was pretty shaken up- literally, I was physically shaking. My blood tests weren't for another five days, and I couldn't stop myself from over thinking and worrying myself sick all week. I lost a lot of sleep. and I was so stressed that I came out in a rash. 

On the Monday morning, I had the blood tests done, which took all of two minutes. I was told they'd phone me ASAP if the tests revealed anything seriously wrong with my kidneys, and then I was free to leave. (Thankfully, after another four days worrying myself sick, on the 3rd of July, I found out that those blood tests came back clear and my kidneys were perfectly fine! To say I was relieved is an understatement!)

A couple of hours after those blood tests were taken, I travelled further afield for an appointment with the rheumatologist. Even though I knew about some of the latest developments from a letter he'd sent me the same week the GP broke the news over the phone, I wasn't quite prepared for everything I would hear.

Doctor C sat me down and said it was highly likely that the inflammatory condition I have is spondyloarthropathy, which is a general name for any joint disease of the vertebrae column. Whether anything can be done to ease the pain, I don't yet know, but he told me I will almost certainly have aches and pains in my bones and joints for life whichever inflammatory condition I have. I've had them regularly since I was twelve or thirteen, and while they're a bitch when they really get going, I can live with them. They're far more manageable that the constant spinal pain I have from the bertolotti's disease (fused spine) and the herniated discs, that's for sure.

Then, he moved on to the deficiencies. This was when things got all too real. I have such severe calcium, vitamin D, and phosphate deficiencies that I've developed something called osteomalacia- softening bones. Basically, the adult version of rickets! I was fucking speechless. I couldn't believe it. I've never even heard of an adult getting rickets before, not in this day and age, anyway- but, that wasn't all. Along with the deficiencies, I have a problem with my parathyroid, which is something which controls the calcium in our bones, blood, and nervous system. When there isn't enough calcium in the body, it starts taking it from the bones instead, which weakens and softens them. My parathyroid isn't working properly, so it's making it even harder for my body to use and store calcium properly, so it's all led to osteomalacia. 

I've only got myself to blame for this one. 

When I opened up about my intolerance to dairy, the doctor asked if I eat dairy substitutes, like soya. Until then the thought had never even occurred to me! I'd just cut out the foods that made me ill with no thought about what the lost vitamins could do to my body. All I wanted was to keep the stomach cramps and sickness away. I didn't seek help from my doctor like I should have done, and it's finally caught up with me. I can't believe how stupid I've been.

Thankfully, the doctor said he should be able to reverse some of the problems in time. He put me on a three month course of vitamin D and calcium replacement tablets, that I started soon after that appointment, and will be on until at least mid-October. At the moment I'm on one Fultium-D capsule and one Adcal tablet a day, on top of all my painkillers. The Adcal tablets are about the size of a giant button, have to be chewed or sucked, and taste like chalk. Tutti fruity flavoured chalk. I'm still struggling not to gag on them every day. Anybody want to take them for me?? No?

He's also urged me to get outside for at least ten minutes a day to get the vitamin D I need from the daylight- but that's been easier said than done since most days I struggle to even get down the stairs. I'm doing my best, but I haven't quite managed every day yet. One day at a time...

I'm having to have more blood tests every couple of weeks so the doctors can monitor my bloods and see if the tablets are working. It's a good thing I'm not scared of needles!  The last batch of these blood tests will end in October, and I've got another appointment with the rheumatologist before that, near the end of September. I'm not sure what the next step will be after that, but hopefully, the specialists will have something up their sleeves that could make a difference this time. I just have to wait and see.

So, now the dust has settled a bit, I'm left feeling like a complete idiot for getting myself in this mess. I've not been looking after myself properly for... well, quite a while now, and it's finally caught up with me. I don't know what I was thinking.

I guess I never thought things could or would get worse than they already were, but I've definitely proved myself wrong on that one. Things can almost always get worse. You can hit rock bottom and then get crushed under the weight of all the rocks above it, especially when you don't take care of yourself.

I'll be honest; I've not felt so well this past year. My mental health has been okay, even though I've been so stressed and worried, but my physical health hasn't been great at all, The pain has been raging something fierce in my back, legs and bones all year, and it's been draining the life out of me. My limbs have been shaking. My legs are so weak I keep losing my balance, and I've been having dizzy spells. The circulation in my legs, feet, and hands has been getting worse, and every now and then I've been losing sensation in my fingers. My lips have turned blue and icy cold on a number of occasions, and let's not get started on the broken wrist scare I had a few weeks ago... (Long story).

On top of all of that, so many foods have been making me ill and the smell of others keep making me feel nauseated, so I've not been eating properly. I've jut not felt up to eating much. Mostly, I've been getting by on one meal a day at most. I know that's not healthy, and I know it's contributed to some of the deficiencies, so I'm trying to sort myself out before my body gives out. I need a big kick up the backside. And maybe a new body! I must have done something really bad in a past life to make mine hate me so much!

As I've been dealing with all of that, I've spent most of the year stuck in bed in my pyjamas. This is the reason I've not blogged any outfit posts in months; I've not had any outfits to share. You wouldn't want to see me in my pyjamas with unwashed hair and slightly grey-tinged skin; trust me! I've only been dressed in proper clothes when I've ventured out of the house, which hasn't been often. Between January and July, excluding medical appointments, I probably left the house less than a dozen times.

Since everything unfolded last month, I've been doing my best to push through the pain as much as possible to get out and about more. I think I've left the house more these last few weeks than the rest of the year combined! My brother-in-law is away on a detachment in Dubai until January, and I've been doing my best to push myself to my limits to keep my sister company on the nights / weekends she doesn't have plans or company. They recently adopted a two year old German Shepherd, so I've joined my sister on a few gentle walks in the country park to get my vitamin D, and I'm hoping to keep it up maybe once a week or fortnight. It puts me out of action for a few days afterwards, but I think it's doing my mental and physical health some good. I'm looking forward to some gorgeous walks when Autumn sets in.

Aside from walks, we're also planning lots of things to do from now until Christmas, mostly to keep my sister busy while her hubby is away, but also because I need some fun things to aim for and ways to escape from my Groundhog-day-life. There are a few local places we want to visit, crafts we intend to try, and some Christmas foods the brother-in-law wants us to make ready for his R & R in December. He won't be home for Christmas, but he'll be back for two weeks in early December, which is close enough. I might blog my way through some of them, but we'll have to wait and see!

I think I should also apologise for the lack of decent blog posts this year. I know my posts have been shit, and there have been too many days in between them. I've got hundreds of ideas for posts, but I've been so drained and stressed that my head has been all over the place. It hasn't made it easy to write, and I've not had a lot of strength to take blog photos, either. I hope I can get back on track this Autumn because I'm raring to go. I promise I'll do my best!

If you've made it all the way to the end, thank you for putting up with my boring rambles. I didn't mean this post to be so long; apparently there were more thoughts that I needed to get out than I realised. I already feel like a weight has lifted, so letting it all out is just what I needed.

Before I go, I just want to say that even though I've got a lot to deal with, I am doing okay, and I won't be giving up the fight any time soon! I will never let it break me.

Thanks for reading.

Another Boring Health Update (April 2015)

It's been about a month since my last health update, so I thought it was about time I stopped by to tell you what's been happening.

If you read last month's post, you might remember that I'd just been diagnosed with an inflammatory condition, but was waiting to see my doctor to find out which one I'd been diagnosed with.

So, the big news?

I couldn't tell ya!

I still don't know.

It's been six weeks since I received the letter which brought word of a diagnosis, and I still don't know the full picture.

I naively thought the process of finding out would be pretty simple; phone up the hospital, make an appointment, see the specialist for a chat, come up with a new plan of action, come home, the end. Sadly not. It's been frustratingly complicated.

For starters, it took me the best part of a week to get hold of my specialist's NHS secretary to make an appointment, only to be told I need to get referred back again by my GP. (My specialist is a private spinal surgeon, but he chose to take me on as an NHS patient in early Autumn.) I've just spent four or five months going to physio with his osteopath colleague- who he referred me to- in the same hospital, but because I've not seen him personally in three months, I have to be re-referred. It's frustrating because my specialist sent me for treatment, got my blood tests results, made the diagnosis, and sent me the letter to tell me. Surely that should count as being under his care?? Apparently not to his secretary.

I wasn't thrilled about having to go back to see my useless GP after all that had happened. I think I even expressed how determined I was to never see him again in my last update. He'd made too many mistakes. I couldn't deal with the stress of going to see him, so I put off phoning up for an appointment for a week or two, to give myself a break. I finally manned up, and went to make an appointment about a month ago... only to learn he'd had a stroke that weekend. Poor guy. As useless as he's been, he is a nice man, and he didn't deserve a stroke. I don't know how bad it was, but I guess even mild ones can be life-altering. It's sad because he's only fifty-something.

I made an appointment to see a different GP who I have seen in the past, but I had to wait a few more weeks because all of the doctors were busy taking on his appointments as well as their own.

I could have gone to see my specialist privately the same week I received the letter, but I thought it was stupid and careless to pay £175 to see him (the fee for a 10 minute consultation), when I could wait a little longer and see him for free. £175 is a lot of money to waste and there are so many better things it could be spent on. It's the reason why my specialist offered his services for free; he said he'd rather we spent the money on treatment instead of wasting it on his consultations.

On Wednesday, my doctor's appointment finally came around, and shock horror, she was even on time! I asked her for the referral, but she said she couldn't refer me back to the specialist because the specialist's last letter didn't say I needed to see him! She could refer me to the rheumatologist he wants me to see next, but she can't refer me to him. I had to explain the situation a few times, but she wasn't having any of it. I wanted to bang my head against a brick wall. Seeing a private doctor on the NHS can be a pain in the arse at times; it's hard for some people to get their head around it. She said she'd phone his secretary to find out if I need to see him and get back to me by the end of the week, but that never happened. I never got a phone call. This is why I leave every NHS appointment wanting to tear my hair out. Nothing ever gets done.

Six weeks have passed since the letter landed on the door mat, and I still don't have any real answers or even an appointment with my doctor.

My parents now just want me to make a private appointment to see him, to get it over and done with. They think too much time has passed already. The last appointment I had at the hospital was in February. I've been trying to refuse, because I don't want to waste their money, but they're refusing my refusal, so I think I don't really have a choice. I'll probably end up going for a private appointment soon. They're off on holiday on Monday, so it's buying me a little time.

I personally don't mind waiting, because I don't think the diagnosis is going to really change anything for me. Even having a full diagnosis, I'm pretty sure I'm still going to have the pain and other symptoms every day, along with all of my other daily challenges. I know it'll be easier mentally and emotionally knowing the whole picture, but I doubt my life will change physically from day to day; at least not to begin with.

Nothing has been confirmed officially, but the GP I saw this week does seem to think I have rheumatoid arthritis. It didn't say so in black and white on screen, but she was confident by what she read. (Which is interesting since my usual GP told me my results were negative!) It's actually been my number one guess since I got the letter telling me I have an inflammatory condition. I can relate to what I've read about it, and it makes a lot of sense- particularly since I've already had some arthritis found in my lower spine. I guess I'll know for sure before too long, and if I have got it, hopefully I'll be able to find out if it's causing any of the pain, and if anything can be done to make me more comfortable. But, one step at a time...

I don't want to self-diagnose or jump the gun before I know for sure; it won't do me any favours.

I'll be sure to keep you all posted as it all unfolds! I'm sure I'll have my answers in the next couple of weeks, and when I do I'll write another update.

I just wanted to end this post by saying a big 'thank you' to everybody who read and left such lovely messages of support on my last personal post. Your messages really meant a lot to me, and I'm still so touched that you took the time to write them. I really do have the best readers and blog friends! 

Thanks for reading, and thanks for continuing to tolerate my boring rambles! I promise tomorrow's post will be far more exciting.

A Little Health and Physio Update

My thoughts have been somersaulting around in my head like a rogue acrobat these last few weeks. I've tried to purge those thoughts on to paper so many times, but every time I've tried, the words just haven't come. I guess I've needed some time to let recent developments and emotions sink in, and for my thoughts to unravel.  

The reason why my head has been all over the place is because so much has been happening with my health and health care lately. As some of you will know, over the last few months I've been working with a new physiotherapist / osteopath to see if anything can be done to reduce my chronic back pain, and improve my quality of life, without going under the knife. Eager to avoid surgery- the thought terrifies me- but get my life back, I've been exhausting different treatments with my osteopath, and giving everything my best shot.

Since my first session with him in late October, we've worked through soft tissue, massage, cranial sacral therapy, acupuncture, and manipulation, and that all follows the round of spinal injections I had with my spinal specialist late last Summer. It's been a completely different approach to the small amount of physiotherapy I received on the NHS, but since their generic stretches and exercises never led to any improvement, my new osteopath decided to try a different route with me.

I willingly agreed to try every treatment he offered and with an open mind, knowing that I have nothing to lose. I don't think I'm in a position to be turning down treatment three and a half years down the line. A treatment will either work or it won't, but I won't know for sure unless I give it a shot. It's all just a game of trial and error, and I owe it to myself to try all options.

Though it's a fact of life that sometimes trying just doesn't make a difference. Despite my best efforts, not one of the treatments I've tried so far has led to even a tiny speck of improvement; in fact, many of them just made things worse!

I came back from every appointment in even more pain than when I got up that morning. The persistent kind of pain that over stays its welcome like an imposing, detestable relative that can only be tolerated in small doses but comes to stay for weeks on end, until it feels like they'll never leave. This intense level of pain would settle in for up to a fortnight after each session, and on several occasions, it stopped me from even getting out of bed unaided. I often didn't have the chance to recover from one appointment before moving on to the next, but, of course, that's to be expected with physiotherapy... even if most of my treatments weren't even vigorous or invasive, and the extra pain didn't eventually result in improvement.

I never let it break my spirit or determination, though. The outcome of these sessions rarely had a negative effect on me mentally or emotionally; somehow I remained laid back and up beat. I see my situation as "it is what it is", and it's so normal to me now that it doesn't often get me down; I tend to remain cheerful and undeterred. I know I'm doing it for my own good. I just made sure I got myself to each appointment, did what was asked of me to the best of my ability, and worked on getting through one day at a time. That's all anybody can do, right?

My osteopath is baffled by how every little thing causes me pain, and how badly my body responds to touch. He says from a musculoskeletal point of view (and his), it just doesn't make sense to him. Apparently having Bertolottis disease (spine fused to my sacroiliac joint), arthritis in my lower spine, torn, herniated, and degenerated discs, sciatica, and a few other problems isn't enough for this man! It's more than enough for me! Ha ha!

He was convinced that there was something else underlying that had yet to be discovered, and after he found the arthritis in my spine in December, we had a chat about my history of joint pain during a session of acupuncture. The short story is from the age of twelve, I regularly suffered horrendous aches and pains in my joints, particularly in my legs, feet, and arms. It was so bad I was often in tears, I often walked with a limp, and had to be signed off p.e. for my last two or three years of secondary school. My legs gave way from time to time, which led to me falling down the stairs at school on three separate occasions. My doctor just dismissed it as growing pains, the physiotherapist he sent me to just called me fat (I wasn't at the time!), and most people just thought I was making it up. It continued throughout my teens, but it did ease a little by the time I was in college... or at least I thought it had. I began studying animal care at the age of sixteen, a few days before 9/11, and for the next decade I worked with animals and in retail, doing back-breaking manual work on a daily basis. I did a hell of a lot of heavy-lifting, and when I came home from work in pain, unable to move most nights, I just thought it was because I was working too hard! I know now that it was mostly down to the undiagnosed conditions; the same ones that are causing my symptoms today! I don't know why I didn't make the connection until I went private and my conditions started to be diagnosed; I guess I'm not the brightest crayon in the box.

After going over that story, my osteopath decided to arrange for me to get blood tests, so he could find out if there was anything unusual with my inflammatories which might diagnose or rule out a few things. I had to go back to my (NHS) doctor's surgery to have them done, and something told me it wasn't going to go smoothly. 

The actual blood tests weren't a problem at all; it was going back to see my GP- twice- for the results that made me want to bash my head against a brick wall. The first time, he didn't have all of my results back, but he wouldn't explain the ones he had. He just mumbled something about rheumatology and arthritis before ushering me out the door. In the end, I had to ask for a copy of  the results and turned to Google to make sense of them! When I went back for the others a week or so later, he just told me they came back negative, which after last time made zero sense. Again, I asked for a copy of the results for my records, and he kicked me out within two minutes. I can't begin to tell you how stressful and frustrating I find appointments with that GP! Not in a distressing way; just that he makes me wants to bang my head against a hard surface. He's a nice man, but he's just so useless.

I went back to see my osteopath after both of those appointments, and he was equally confused by what the GP had told me. The first piece of paper told us that there were abnormalities in my blood. My plasma b proteins, for instance were over 27, but a normal level is less than 5 (!), which showed my inflammatory parameters were very high. (Meaning I have a lot of inflammation in my body). What annoyed me, more than anything, was that the piece of paper also listed my results from 1998 and 2011, and the levels were higher than average both years, but my GP had never informed me or investigated it. Who knows how different things might have been if he had.

The osteopath told me he was going to arrange a meeting with my spinal specialist (who would have a copy of the blood tests sent to him) ASAP. And I decided I would wait to hear my specialist's prognosis / diagnosis, too, because I just didn't trust what my GP had told me.

Before that session was through, my osteopath decided to try some manipulation on my back. I was concertinaed in to a foetal position, with my arms laced through one of his, and was manoeuvred about like a rusty old hinge. My body reacted so badly to the manipulation, that he couldn't "get in" to my joints and had to scrap the idea. My body is extremely and involuntarily tense 24/7, no matter how relaxed I feel, and because of that, manipulation just won't work on me. 

After we reached that realisation, he sat me down for a chat, and had to be blunt with me. He told me that although he had promised me that he wouldn't give up on me, and that he'd do all he could to make me better, he just didn't think he could do anything else for me. We'd already tried it all. And not one little thing had worked. I understood what he was saying, but the words still stung a little. 

He told me he was going to have a chat with the specialist, who would hopefully have some suggestions on what to try next. If not, then the only other option he could try would be to look at targeting my life style- diet, exercise, sleep, enrichment, and most likely, weight-loss; working me hard in the gym in my trainers. (Trainers? Me? Ha ha! Apart from Converse, I've not worn trainers in well over a decade!)

After that appointment, I left on a bit of a downer, and the realisation that I was running out of options scared me just a little. It really began to hit me that I might never get better, even though I've known and accepted that as a possibility for years. I felt like as I'd exhausted everything with the osteopath that I was getting closer to being sent for surgery- and that terrified me! My specialist has talked about surgery on several occasions, but I've always been adamant that it will only be a last resort; I want to know I've exhausted all other options first. I know it's stupid worrying about things that haven't happened yet or are even set in stone, but I just couldn't stop myself from thinking about it. I'm a naturally anxious person.

I got lost in a dark haze for a couple of weeks following that chat (last month). The depression awakened from its long slumber and hung over me like a little black rain cloud, drenching me with disdain every time I allowed myself to think about my health or health care. I hadn't felt that low in a couple of years, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I just couldn't seem to shake it.



Thankfully, the fog lifted a couple of weeks ago, and I'm back to my usual self again. To be honest, that episode was a walk in the park compared to how bad I suffered with it (depression) in my late teens and early twenties, and it seems to be lying dormant again now. I'm back to feeling content, laid-back, and cheerful.

Last week, I got a letter through the door. It was from my spinal specialist, explaining that my bloods showed an increase in my inflammatory parameters, which suggests an underlying inflammatory condition, and that this is the cause of many of my on-going symptoms! Finally, another break through!

I don't know why, but I wasn't surprised by that letter! I knew there was something else going on, and I knew my GP was wrong when he told me my results were negative. When I read the letter, I couldn't help but laugh. I would be mad, if it wasn't so hilarious! This letter just confirms how useless my GP is. This is one step too far for me. Too much has been missed and over looked over the years. I could've gotten better care from a goldfish than this doctor (and several others at the practise), and quite frankly, I'd rather chop off my arm with a rusty blade than go back to see him again. The last couple of months have just reminded me why we went private, and how fantastic my spinal specialist and osteopath really are. Going private really has been the best decision we could've made, and I'm so lucky to have found these amazing medical professionals. The difference between care, knowledge, and initiative has been huge.

At this moment in time, I don't actually know which inflammatory condition I have, although my guess is rheumatoid arthritis (since I already have arthritis in my spine). I need to go in and have a chat with the specialist, to find out and understand what it means for me. I was hoping to see him last week, but a bad cold has been holding me hostage. I'll be phoning up today to arrange an appointment, so hopefully I'll have my answers by the end of the week.

What I do know is that my next step forward is going to be with a rheumatologist. I don't know much about that kind of care, and I don't know where that road will take me, but I'm actually looking forward to finding out. Wherever it takes me, you can be sure I'll be giving it everything I've got, and doing what needs to be done with a shed load of determination. There's still a lot of fight left in me, and I'm not giving up just yet! I owe it to myself and my family to keep on fighting, and I plan to keep on fighting 'til the end.


If you've made it through to the end, thanks humouring me while I've emptied my thoughts, and thank you for reading. I promise to bring you a fashion related post tomorrow.

If you're living with the same or similar health conditions, are going through a similar health care journey, have any questions and / or want to get in touch, please feel free to message me. You can leave a comment, email me, or reach me through any of my social network accounts, that are linked to above in the left hand sidebar.

Goodbye 2014, Hello 2015!

Happy New Year, everybody! I hope it's already treating you well, but if it's not, I hope it does soon!

I can't believe that another year has come and gone. (I'm actually surprised by how quickly the days have passed so far this year; how is it already the fifth?!) I'm not going to lie, 2014 was not a fantastic year for me. It wasn't full of sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns; It was one of the hardest years I've ever had to face. 

I wasn't able to travel, make many memories, or reach any of life's milestones; instead I spent most of the year alone, bed ridden from constant pain with just a laptop for company. Yes, that's as glamorous as it sounds! When I did escape confinement, it was mostly for hospital appointments in an attempt to get myself better. It didn't work.

However, 2014 was the year I first ventured in to private health care. It was the year I finally found a doctor who would take me seriously, after almost three years of begging the NHS for help but getting none. I found an amazing spinal specialist in June, who immediately began getting a diagnosis by sending me for X Rays, MRI scans, and CT scans. Each one discovered something new, and within just a few weeks from my initial consultation, I learnt I had multiple spinal problems, most of which the NHS had never picked up on.

Soon after, I had my first round of spinal injections; they only had a negative effect and worsened the pain.

I was sent for a few sessions of physio at a different clinic, and for the first time I had massage, manipulation, and ultra sound therapy. Sadly, I didn't respond well to any of them, either.

Then, a couple of months ago, I was referred to one of my specialist's colleagues for physio instead, on his instruction. I trusted / trust my specialist one hundred percent (a whole new experience for 2014!), so he said "jump" and I said "how high?" Both men are the best in their respected fields, so I wasn't in a position to argue. I trust his judgement.

November and December were filled with physio sessions. I threw myself in to stretches, massage, manipulation, cranial sacral therapy, and acupuncture; the latter which I'm currently being given. (Okay, not right this second; that would be a weird time to blog! My next session is tomorrow.) Frustratingly, I've not experienced improvement through any of them.

My physiotherapist is stumped. Apparently from a muscular and skeletal point of view (and his), my body shouldn't be responding this way. From my scans and my known spinal issues, he can't understand why I'm in so much pain, or why particular stretches or activities aggravate my pain levels and leave me spiralling down hill. Last month he told me I react to touch the way a fibromyalgia sufferer does. He also diagnosed me with arthritis in my lower spine a few weeks ago! It was a big surprise, but in another way it wasn't; suddenly all the years of joint pain that began before I hit my teens made a lot of sense. It leaves me wondering what I'm going to be diagnosed with next! (I'm having more tests done this week).

He had a meeting with my spinal specialist to talk about my case, and looked through every scan. He told me he wants to see me get better and is determined to do everything he can to help me. I got a little emotional; nobody had ever said anything like that to me before. He and the specialist are the only two medical professionals who have given me fantastic medical care and have promised not to give up on me. I can't tell you just how much that meant/s to me after three years of being told to "get on with it" by NHS GPs, specialists, and physiotherapists in my county time after time after time. 

Even though I've not made any improvement in the last six months and their health care isn't free, I'm so glad I ventured in to private health care in 2014. I'm glad we found an amazing doctor who finally gave me some answers, and began suggesting routes to try; sending me down a road which led to a brilliant physiotherapist. It was a turning point in my journey, and it was definitely one of the best decisions my family and I made in 2014. I hope I can look back so positively and optimistically on my medical care this time next year! Fingers crossed I can! 

2014 was filled with dozens of hospital appointments, and days and weeks on end spent in bed recovering from them, but I did manage a little fun here and there, too. 

I got to see Fall Out Boy live for the very first time, and it was worth the nine year wait to achieve that goal!

I won a night's stay at a Travelodge (thanks, Rachel!), and spent a night in London with my sister and my best friend. We soaked up the festive atmosphere in Covent Garden, and took a boat along the Thames from The London Eye to Greenwich and back, sight-seeing along the way. We saw Linkin Park live at the O2, which was one of the best shows I've ever seen. I had such a great night away!

I explored a historic local church and graveyard I'd never stepped foot in before.

I enjoyed Bourton-on-the-Water in the summer sun, and in the glow of Christmas lights.

I made it to my local wildlife park, and survived the three hours. I saw my first baby anteater and it was adorable!

I made a few cinema trips through sheer determination to see my favourite book adaptations on screen.

I went to London for a CT scan... well, it was technically a hospital trip, but it was still nice to be in London during a 33'C heat wave! 

I was taken out to lunch a few times by the sister.

I even did a spot of window shopping here and there, mostly just to get some exercise, and fresh air...

Sometimes the boring little things are the ones that you cling to get through the difficult times. I definitely appreciated every chance I had to get out of the house and do normal, everyday things. It is kinda worrying now I realise that a trip to the supermarket has become one of the most exciting things in my life, though, (beyond these four walls)! What happened to me?? Ha ha!

As difficult as being house-bound for a third consecutive year can be, I refused to allow it to break me, upset me, bore me or anger me. I did my best to wake each day with a content persona, and filled my time as best I could. I read; I wrote; I attempted to cross stitch; I watched movies; I got lost in music; I took photos; I edited them; I dressed up; I experimented with make up; I spent approximately 9972159 hours on Pinterest; and I dedicated far more to this little blog. I was rarely bored. In fact, there were never enough hours in the day!

This little blog of mine was definitely my biggest distraction during 2014. It kept me busy every day, and without it, I don't want to think about how much harder last year would've been for me to deal with. It's a life line I don't want to let go of. I know I wasn't the best blogger in 2014; I wasn't best organised, I got behind on all your comments, and I didn't always bring great content, but I enjoyed blogging just the same, and had some amazing opportunities with some fantastic brands. I hope to be a much better blogger this year, and I'm going to do my best to make sure I am! I've got so many ideas and goals for the year ahead!

For the first January ever, I feel excited for the year ahead, and optimistic about where it might take me. I know it won't be easy, but I hope 2015 is a fantastic year and perhaps even the best year yet! Who knows where it might take me.

I hope that your 2015 is filled with happiness, good health, great times, great people, real love, and everything you could possibly hope for. Here's to 2015!

Where do you hope 2015 will take you?

Three Year Spinal Pain Milestone and Health Care Update

The last two months of my life have been both overwhelming and enlightening- and I mean that in a mostly positive way.

So much has happened and unfolded since I began receiving private health care at the beginning of July. I've learned more these past two months than in three years under the "care" of the NHS. It's been moving so fast that I'm still trying to get my head around it all.

It began with x-rays and MRI scans, which revealed the first of several previously undiscovered abnormalities. I'll call them abnormalities because I don't know how else to phrase them right now. 

I learned my spine has some slight curving, likely to just be a result of the pain and it's affect on my posture. (Although that isn't really a cause for concern right now). 

I also discovered that I have an abnormally shaped or extra piece of bone near the base of my spine, sitting against my sacroiliac joint, which is just above the pelvis. 

My Doctor wanted to get a more in depth look at what was going on, so he sent me off to London for a CT scan at the beginning of August. I was scanned from head to toe for two and a half hours, and had to push myself way beyond my physical limitations to get through an exhausting twelve hours out of bed.

A week later, I got the results of the CT scans. 

I got some more shocking news; the bottom of my spine is fused! And unsurprisingly, my spine is extremely inflamed. (My discs are all still torn, herniated, and degenerated, too).

As you can imagine, I was shocked to learn that there were / are more problems with my body than I was aware of. Shocked. Speechless. I guess I still am.

Two months ago, I thought I had seven disc injuries caused by years of heavy lifting at work, and that was it.

Today, I have (at least) seven disc injuries; a curved, fused and inflamed spine; and a bone at the bottom of my spine that shouldn't even be there. 

I know now that these issues are probably not a result of heavy lifting, but are likely to have developed naturally as my body developed. I've been told that heavy-lifting may have triggered the abnormalities to make themselves known, but I will have had them for a very long time.

Suddenly the past makes a lot of sense to me. As a teenager, I has awful pains in my limbs which the doctors dismissed as growing pains. I had back pain regularly from age thirteen, and if I sat on the sofa for ten minutes (up until I was twenty-six), I would be hunched over like a little old lady. I'd always just put any back complaints down to working so hard.  For some reason I hadn't made the connection until I went private, and everything began to unravel. I'm not the brightest crayon in the box.

I'm trying to get my head around the fact that I'm not injured like I've believed for three years, but I have natural irregularities or conditions I was probably born with. Injuries sound temporary, but natural conditions sound far more permanent, don't they?

I'm left wondering why the NHS never picked up on any of the underlying issues. If they did, they never told me. I had MRI scans of my spine, but I was never sent for x-rays or a CT scan- which would have revealed the true extent of my spinal problems. Not one Doctor was the slightest bit interested in helping me, and I'm sure financial costs paid a part it in. The system for back injuries (in my county, at least) is appalling, and it's just not good enough. I feel let down by them,

How many other people are there out there getting inadequate care for their back and spinal pain / injuries? I wish the answer was zero but I'll bet there are thousands.

At the moment, I'm not sure what the future holds. I don't know if anything will fix the problems. I don't know if anything will get rid of the pain, or at least ease it to a more manageable level. I don't know if I'll ever be pain free again, or if I'll have to deal with pain every day for the rest of my life. I just don't know.

My new Doctor, however is dedicated to helping me find out. There are options that we can try. 

One option has already been activated; a few of weeks ago I had facet injections, right in to my spine. They were done under local anaesthetic and x-ray, so the Doctor could administer the steroids in to the exact areas. I felt like a human pin cushion! I lost count of how many injections I had after eight. Thankfully only one of them hurt like hell, and it confirmed exactly where the pain is coming from- the sacroiliac joint and that extra piece of bone! I've spent three years thinking the discs were the source of my pain, so it's completely bizarre!

It's been almost a month since those injections, and I've yet to see any improvement in my pain. For the first couple of weeks, my pain was actually far worse than usual. I couldn't lie on my back, or sit up against anything because my back hurt so much. It was difficult to get through. The doctor said it can take six weeks for the steroids to take affect (after originally telling me two), so there's still a possibility that the drugs will work, but whether they will I don't know.

In the mean time, he wants me to begin physiotherapy with a specialist physiotherapist to help get my body moving.

My first appointment was late this afternoon. It was an hour long appointment, and it was mostly just a chat today, so that she could gather as much information as possible about my current physical state, and medical history. I also had to do some basic stretches so that she could see how my body is functioning, and as my body is so tense and shaky, I even got a ten minute back massage! Score!

She was shocked by how I've been left this way for three years, and how little physiotherapy I've had with the NHS. She's not sure that physiotherapy is going to sort me out, but she's going to at least try to help me. Her aim is to help me make my body stronger again, and to relax all my tense, spasming muscles. (My limbs shake constantly).

I've got another appointment with her next Monday, and in the mean time I have to try to go for a short walk every day, and do some basic stretches. It's going to be interesting since today's session has left me in agony, but I love going for Autumn walks, so I'm just going to embrace it! I want my life back one day.

My parents have been thinking about getting me a dog for a while, so that I can have someone to keep me company, and I think I've found another reason for the 'pro' list. I think it would give me the motivation to take these walks every day, even when the pain is through the roof. We've never had a dog of our own- though I spent a lot of time helping out with my sister's old German Shepherds- so nothing's set in stone yet, but hopefully I'll have a four-legged fur baby to encourage me to take those steps in the right direction before too long.

Today also marks three years exactly since the pain started in my back. It's hard to believe I've been in pain for three years straight! I don't know how I've made it through these three years, but I know that this blog has had a lot to do with it; I think I would have gone crazy without this little space to throw myself in to and give myself a purpose every day!

I have you all to thank for reading this little blog, and for giving me a reason to keep blogging, so thank you! And thank you to everybody who comments on my posts and has left lovely messages of support on personal posts like this one over the years. You guys are awesome, and your support has helped me get through some truly crap days, so thanks for you your kind words and for continuing to read Polka Spots and Freckle Dots! It means more to me than you'll ever know!

Wednesday Wish List

Well hello there!

How is it Wednesday again already? It doesn't feel like a week has gone by since my last wish list post, or my last trip to the hospital. The last few weeks have ticked by so quickly and I've no idea where they've gone.

I've got lots of beautiful pieces to show you this week, but I'm going to keep the words short and sweet because I'm struggling to sit here and write. I had multiple facet injections in to my spine last Wednesday under local anaesthetic (I lost count after eight), and the pain in my back has been raging far worse than normal ever since. My spine and lower back are on fire. I haven't been able to lie on my back or sit up against anything since they were done, because my back hurts so much, and the extra pain is making it difficult for me to function for any length of time. I'm not quite sure when the pain will ease off, since I was told I'd bounce back after a day or two, but hopefully I'll be back to my normal level of pain soon. I'm beginning to doubt that the injections are going to make a difference to the pain, but I guess we shall see.

I can at least see that this isn't short and sweet at all, and I just wrote an essay! Let's move on to the wish lists before I send you all off to dreamland!

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // 16

I'm currently obsessed with everything red, black, burgundy, plum, and forest green, not that you'd know  it from the wish list above... I'm loving a bunch of beautiful dresses from Lindy Bop and Hell Bunny, but my most sought-after piece this week is the gorgeous burgundy satchel from River Island. I need it, I want it, and I have to have it! It would go perfectly with so many AW outfits. I already have two very similar RI satchels in green and gold, but it wouldn't hurt to add a third to the collection... the colour is proving impossible to resist.

 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9

My wish lists wouldn't be complete without a good dose of colour, and a quirky accessory or twelve. 

Aren't the 'Little Moose' sloth and octopus accessories amazing?! Char shared them in her Friday Favourites post last week, and made me fall in love with them all! They are hands down some of the cutest accessories I've ever seen.

Dress // Jumpsuit

I forgot to add these to the first collage, but I really love the spot prom dress and black lace jumpsuit from Claire Richards' collection for Simply Be. The jumpsuit is stunning!

What's on your wish list this week? 

Which of these are your favourites?

A Little Update

Hi guys,

I just wanted to check in to apologize for the lack of posts here at the moment; quality and otherwise. It's been an over-whelming few weeks for me, and the stress and pain combined with a stifling heatwave and writer's block have all made blogging difficult.

I've tried to write so many times, only to find a lack of inspiration or motivation stopping me from typing. I actually have twenty-three posts in my drafts right now, and I'm not inspired to write any of them. I think I'll probably delete most of them and start again; there's no point forcing something that I'm clearly not motivated to write. Normal service should hopefully resume soon.

I have found the motivation to give my blog a little face lift, though. I've been trying to work out what to do with it for months, designing images with a lot of trial and error, but never liking the result when I put it all together. Now I'm doing it as I go along, I finally seem to be getting somewhere; although it's still a work in progress. I've added more pages and subjects to the right hand side bar, as you might have noticed, but I still have pages to edit / finish, and about 600 posts still to go back through and relabel correctly. It might take a few weeks, but hopefully when I'm done Polka Spots and Freckle Dots will be better organised and easier to navigate. 

Aside from the blog, as some of you will know, two and a half weeks ago, I began my journey in to private health care. I had three appointments in the space of one week- efficiency I'm just not used to after so little support from the NHS.

Last Wednesday, I got the results of my X-Rays and MRI scans. I didn't expect to learn anything I didn't already know- I'd had an MRI on the NHS in 2011 which (eventually) diagnosed my multiple disc injuries, so I wasn't expecting any new developments. 

Let's just say I was in for a surprise!

My Doctor began by showing me the X-Rays, and I could instantly see my spine was not exactly that of a healthy person. My discs were still all in various states of degeneration; the herniations were still herniated; they had not miraculously healed in the last three years... but I'd expected that.

What I didn't expect to see was that my spine was slightly- but visibly- curved in places, and that there was a little shadow near the base of my spine. Even to my untrained eye, I knew that was not how a spine should look.

The Doctor explained that near the bottom of my spine, there was a little bone on the side of one of my vertebrae that shouldn't be where it was, and there was a good chance it was causing a lot of my pain. It looked like a little butterfly beside another piece of bone. 

I was too overwhelmed by the new developments to remember to ask questions, so right now I'm not sure if the bone is out of place, or just not meant to be there at all, but I suspect the latter by what I could see on the scan.

He told me the curves to my spine could be a result of all the pain I'm in. Three years of relentless pain has obviously had some affect on my posture, but I never thought that it could physically affect my spine! 

I'm left wondering for now, and I'm curious as to what caused both of these 'new' issues. Whether they were caused by injury, I was born with them, or whether they're the result of a condition.. or something else entirely. I have a lot of questions to ask next time.

All I could do was listen to what he was telling me, respond with "okay..." and stare at the images on his computer as I tried to process it all. I wasn't frightened or upset by the news; I just couldn't believe there were more problems I didn't know about. The NHS hadn't picked up on them, or if they had, they didn't tell me.

The good news is, he told me he didn't see anything that told him to wheel me off to surgery there and then. That was a relief; the last thing I want is to go down that road, if I can help it. 

Instead, he discussed a few options with me and instead of telling me what to do, he asked for my opinions and asked what I'd like to do. We talked about physiotherapy and hydrotherapy, which I've already had; spinal injections, which cost a shocking £1500- each!; and CT scans- deep joy, another scan!

I asked him what he recommended, but also told him physiotherapy isn't working one little bit.

We came up with a plan...

The next step will take me to London for a CT scan. Early next week. I'm not quite sure why I'm going all the way to London for the scan, since it's a couple of hours drive from where I live, but he wants to get a more in-depth look at my insides to see what's going on. He also needs to find out where he should stab me with spinal injections for best results, as I'll be having three of them after the scan. I hope they don't hurt as much as being injected in the toe (with anaesthetic, not drugs!) did. After that, I think I'll be having intense hydrotherapy, since physiotherapy has never made the slightest bit of difference. I've had a few hydrotherapy sessions before, but not enough or often enough to find out if it could've made a difference. 

So, yeah, there's a lot going on, and things are moving in the right direction. There's no guarantees anything will work, but I have nothing to lose at this point. Hopefully the CT scan will tell me more about what's going on, so I can find out what the future holds, and what might help to get me back on my feet.

I'm looking forward to visiting London again next week, even if it is for a hospital visit. It's been three years since my last visit and I've missed those days out- I used to go several times a year to shop, sight-see, catch a musical, go to a gig, or visit an attraction. My Dad's driving me up, so hopefully I'll be able to persuade him to take a scenic route or visit something during the three hours between the dye injection and the actual scans. I can't even remember the last time I spent a whole day out with my Dad, just the two of us. 

The day is going to be a long one, and will involve more hours out of bed than I've managed in three years, so I'm preparing myself for a lot of pain and exhaustion, but I'm actually a little excited for the trip. Crazy, I know! I guess that's what happens when the most exciting part of your life is managing a trip to the supermarket. Haha!

Anyway, I'm sorry for so many personal posts recently, and I'm sorry for the lack of quality content. I'll do my best to get back in to the swing of things this week, starting with my Sunday favourites post tomorrow. 

I'm also sorry for leaving your comments and emails unanswered for so long, and I'll be setting some time aside to reply to all of them over the next few days. I have read them and I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who left me messages of support for my MRI scan; they meant a lot to me! You guys are all so lovely and your words have not gone unnoticed!

I'm a useless blogger, and I need to give myself a kick up the backside!

If you've made it through all of this, thanks for reading! And thanks for listening.

Have a great day!