Tuesday 30 August 2011

After The Storm....

Such a beautiful song, enjoy....

Mumford & Sons - After The Storm





Update: I have yet to move back home to live with my Mum and my Brother.

They are "not ready" for me!?!?

So it is likely to be another couple of days.

But....

It is going to happen!

Decision made, end of story!

Funnily enough.... am I laughing?!?!.... since informing my Mum of my decision I have found some sort of peace with it all. And to be fair to my Mum she has always said that there is a bed for me at "home" if ever I needed it.

I will be on the couch until the box room is fixed up. Not ideal, but.... beggars can not be choosers.

It will be OK.

At some point since my last post I had an epiphany.... why have I been fighting so hard to keep my house during these difficult times?

The answer to this lies in my upbringing.... I think!?!?....

I grew up poor, not destitute, but poor. There was always food in my belly, clothes on my back and shoes on my feet. Typical working class really. Nothing at all to be ashamed of, in fact it's something to be extremely proud of.... childhood shapes us all and I am no different.

I had a happy childhood.

Yet, you see, it was a sign of social mobility for my parents generation to own their own home. I was raised in a Council House.... outdoor toilet, ice on the inside of windows and all that.... but my parents worked HARD and were eventually able to, in no small part thanks to Thatcher's government, buy their home from the Council. My Mum lives in this home, which has been modernised, to this very day.

So for me to leave full time education at 16 and make something of myself to the point where I could afford to buy my very own house was a BIG deal.

It was everything. My perceived success or failure depended on it!

Or so I thought.... until this week.

I realised I have been fighting tooth and nail to hold on to my home because I am afraid of what other people will think of me.... I know!

And this from someone who for as long as I can remember has tried to convince himself that he does not care what other people think of him.... I failed, despite deep down inside knowing I am a good man.

But you know what?!

I can tell you today.... for the first time in my life.... I do not care what others say or think about me.

It's about time I thought of me!

As I've mentioned before.... nearly all of my "friends" have vanished into the night anyway.... I am alone.... and lonely....

But I now have a clean slate.... and this is liberating.

Moving back home with Mum is a short term fix.... just how temporary only time will tell.... but I know for sure it will not be permanent.

The one thing it will allow me, is to concentrate on my health and see where that takes me. If my health improves as I hope.... which there is every chance it will.... I have every reason to be excited about the future.

If it does not then I will face it and deal with it.

I have likened my life now to finally playing the hand I have been dealt instead of trying to play the cards I wish I had been dealt. And you know what? There is much less resistance.

But why did I make the decisions I have made?

Pride? Stubbornness? Denial? Ego? Stupidity? Expectation?

Answers on a postcard!

Whatever, I need to walk with my head held high, not shuffling about staring at the ground!

This post has been me thinking aloud and writing it down.... it's a little bit jumbled.... but it's me.

I will always be me.

Hopefully in the future my writing will improve too. My prose is not flowing as I would like.... and my thought processes are jerky.... and my brain foggy!

In other news.... I have been caffeine free for more than 5 weeks, I am now stimulant free.

I have also been eating a gluten free diet for the last 2 weeks or so in an attempt to relieve my digestive discomfort. I am pleased to report that my bloated, distended belly is improving, as are my digestive transit times. I will persevere with this for a while longer before being able to accurately assess the impact of this dietary change.

I still intend to keep a journal/diary whilst living with Mum, and will try to post when I can.


Remember, for as long as we have hope we have a chance.

Thursday 25 August 2011

The Perfect Storm....

First off; apologies for deserting my post all too often this year.

You all deserve so much better from me.

I am sorry.

I have had to try to face up to the reality of my life more and more recently. I can put it off no more; tomorrow I have to move back home and live with my Mum and my Brother.

I am devastated.

Who knew the past twelve years had just been purgatory. I now descend into hell....

For eternity?

I hope not.

I can no longer afford to live on my own on the Welfare Benefits the Government see fit to award me.

Simple as that. FACT.

The Government's desire to extinguish all hope and have me live in poverty in perpetuity is cruel. In another couple of years I will be useless to society, too far gone.

Only then will they be happy.

If they invested in me (short-term) rather than giving up on me (long-term) they would get excellent value for money. Instead the Government has become so short-sighted that they cannot see beyond the next Daily Mail (et al) headline depicting ALL Welfare Benefit claimants as some sort of human sub-species not fit to breathe the same air as the chattering middle classes!

However, if I was a single "mother" with a handful of children spawned by different "fathers" I would be loaded!

Go figure.

Irony.

My financial predicament combined with my chronic ill health is truly a vicious circle.

I do not have the strength to fight any more at the moment.

I am not well.

I need to ask for help but I am afraid that if I do it will fall short of what I need.

I need to be rescued.

I wish there was a rehabilitation retreat for those of us with fucked up thyroids who have reached the end of their tether.

I picture a simple place by the beach where it's a short drive into a small coastal town. And best of all there will be a Doctors Surgery containing the kind of doctors we all deserve.

Good company, great food, inspiring workshops, glorious music, writing, and books. Long long walks when I'm up to it. A place where winter is as beautiful as summer.

Dreamy.

Me? A romantic?

Why of course!

Perhaps I should set up a place like this.... it's an idea for when I get well.

I could run my operation for improved diagnosis and treatment of thyroid disease by "health professionals" from there.

I will give my life to taking on the big pharmaceuticals and changing government policies. My analytical and organisational skills will be best served in that direction.

Anyway, we already have "angels" who selflessly give their lives to patient advocacy. There are many advocates out there, but the one that fate would happen to lead me to was Mary J. Shomon, my very own "silver lining", who it is an honour to call my friend.

Don't I go on?!

Anyway, to be financially viable (grown up words!) it would have to be in the US. Would they have me? How will I get in?

Where is the most beautiful place to live, on the coast, in the US, where you get to experience all four seasons? North California (San Francisco)? Virginia? Long Island? Rhode Island? New Hampshire?

Build it and they will come....

I would love to "go away" to a place like this for as long as necessary to get the help and treatment I need....

"HypoMan, a man barely alive.
Ladies and gentlemen, we can rebuild him.
We have the technology.
We have the capability to build the world's first bionic man.
HypoMan will be that man.
Better than he was before.
Better.... stronger.... faster." - The Six Million Dollar Man.

That was the 1970's. Why six? What price now?

That's my dream anyway.

*slaps face.... hard*

Back to reality!

I hope, in time, I will be able to make progress. It is just that I am faced with a huge adjustment to make and I am not sure how it is going to pan out.

It will take time.

Will you give me time?

It will take patience.

I have the patience of a saint.

I need to provide my Doctor with a "dossier" to support my argument for a trial of Natural Dessicated Thyroid (NDT).

I have researched and located freely available evidence published on the Internet by the NHS that documents that the NHS issued 1,700 prescriptions for Armour in 2010. FACT.

I have many other documents bookmarked on my laptop.

I have no printer and my laptop is doing a better job than me of stringing out it's death throes. Worse still at my Mum's I will have NO access to the Internet. I do not have a fancy "smart" phone, as the name suggests; not at all suitable for me!

I do not expect to be prescribed Armour even when I provide my "dossier", and it is this pessimism that is preventing me from going to see my Doctor. Procrastination I think it's called, right Katie?

I detest confrontation. "Thyroid Me" is a coward and not assertive.

I am afraid what my response will be to yet another rejection in the face of compelling evidence.

I can't even begin to imagine what would happen if Armour did not work for me and I requested another brand of NDT.... or whisper it.... the subject of adrenal exhaustion/fatigue.

I am full of anger.

Am I going mad? As that is surely what the NHS would have me believe.

I am full of frustration.

I am lashing out at "society".... when will I learn.... it is unproductive and ultimately futile.

I am full of self-pity.... have you noticed?

Quite a catch!

Moving back home is going to be miserable. I love my Mum dearly, but me and my Brother do not get on.

Back to my small childhood home, a place where there is no escaping each other, and where it is what is not said that is deafening.

Like I say; welcome to hell!

Try to be positive....

I hope to be able to save enough money over the next few years to see a private Doctor and if need be pay for the necessary blood tests (Reverse T3) and medication (NDT).

Am I living in denial?

I cling to the hope that I can lead a "normal" life in the future. By that I mean a job, a relationship, children, a home, a social life, a holiday....

Is this unrealistic?

Am I asking too much?

How have I become brainwashed into desiring, no, lusting after, the consumerist dream outlined in the glossy magazines and every fucking advert you see?!

It will not make me happy!

So why am I finding it so hard to let go?

What is it that I fear?

So many questions, so little time already!

All I do know is that for the foreseeable future I'm going to be off the reservation. I will try to keep in touch. I just do not know how things are going to work out.

I am thinking of keeping a journal/diary.... just snippets of me.... if I achieve this I will try to type them up and post them when I can.

No promises.

It is now that I would like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being here for me (and if there is a philanthropist amongst you don't be shy *winks*). You are all my comfort blanket, whether you read this blog, follow me on twitter or facebook, I am indeed a rich man to have you all in my life. I will never forget. Thank you for sharing in my story. I have kept, and treasure, all your comments. You have taught me so much. Thank you.

Don't hold back, feel the love.

"I am just going outside and may be some time" - Oates to Scott.

Wish me luck.

Remember, for as long as we have hope we have a chance.