.It started off so well.
Photo 1
I spent the "school day", in my pyjamas, on the sofa, watching Netflix. I did absolutely eff all, but it was a choice. It wasn't because I was fatigued. It wasn't because I was experiencing increased pain (I say increased pain because I am always in some degree of pain), my Ostomy wasn't misbehaving, neither were the guts I have left. Everything was good. I felt relaxed. I felt happy. I felt excited because I had a dinner date planned later in the evening with the Girl Child. I got showered at my leisure, listened to Hamilton as I washed my hair, sang along as I applied my make up. I felt the sun on my cheeks as I collected mine and my neighbour's children from school. I then took the Girl Child to my my mother's house for a party planning meeting. My INCREDIBLE mum and the Girl Child are throwing a Halloween party together. I witnessed the two most important ladies in my life planning, and brainstorming ideas, picking out decorations, designing their menu, and inventing spooky party games. I could feel the energy passing between them like electricity. It filled my heart with joy. All was well.
Photo 2 - Driving the Girl Child to her French lesson, the Girl Child is compiling her play list, as the soundtrack to the party has to be perfect. I send her into her lesson, and return to my car to wait. I've brought my laptop so I can get some writing done. I'm feeling good. I'm being productive. As I am sitting in the car waiting for the Girl Child to finish her lesson, I start to feel anxious. Then I feel freezing cold and boiling hot at the same time. Then my skin starts to crawl, and the air in my car starts to feel thin. Then the pain begins to creep from the tips of my toes up to my hair follicles. This all happens in the space of a few minuets. It feels like hours. And then I remember. It's Fentanyl Patch Change Day, and I have no patches with me. This means three things :
1) I can no longer take the Girl Child out on our dinner date. She will be upset and disappointed, but she won't want to admit it, and I will feel guilty for letting her down.
2) I have to drive home with the Girl Child in the car, and I am becoming less and less capable of doing this safely with each second that passes.
3) The Girl Child will likely witness me, her mother, in the start of withdrawal.
The thought of this fills me with dread, which makes my anxiety increase, which makes all the other symptoms worsen. I have to get it together. Remember my training. Act my ass off. Bring my A game, Oscar worthy performance of everything being fine. As soon as the Girl Child sees me, she knows that everything is not fine. I tell her that I can't take her to dinner after all, and as quickly as she starts to kick off, she stops, as she can sense that all is not well with her Mummy. She does an incredible job of talking to me about anything and everything, giving me something to focus on as I grip the steering wheel for dear life for the entirety of the journey home.
Photo 3 - I am in my safe place.
Fenatny Patch changed. Liquid Oxycodone administered. I've had a 20 minute nap, and although I am feeling a lot better than I did an hour ago, I still feel horrific. The Girl Child has barely left my side. She has asked me if I am alright countless times, I think she is finally starting to believe my response.
I hate that she has had to see me like this. I hate that she has to worry about me. That isn't her job, I should be worrying about her. I hate that I have let her down. I hate that I am at the mercy of my body and the drugs that help it function.
This isn't what I wanted to write about today. I had planned to be writing about the amazing day I had experienced in its entirety, not the amazing day which imploded on itself. I'm not even sure if all these words were needed. Look into my eyes. The journey of today is there for you to see for yourselves.
