Jab Monday and I am awake at 7:30 listening to my eldest daughter getting ready to go to work and my partner snoozing. I get up, make a warm drink for my partner and get myself ready for my walk to the GP surgery. Just time for a coffee adn morning meds and then I am walking in the morning air that is breezy and damp. On my arrival at the surgery I fish out mask from the depths of a fluffy pocket and book myself in, take a seat and wait. Within moments I am called in to the clinic room, the upside of going for an early appointment time. I hand over the injection box to the nurse who puts the impedimenta together while I adjust my clothing to give her access to the injection site. The drug goes in relatively easy, it is viscous and bulky adn takes time to get it all in. Once done I check my next appointment time and go on my way.
On my way home I pick up a paper so I can do the crosswords as I have more coffee and toast. I consume these as I watch the government reshuffle on TV in a kind of fascination, like a snake watching a mongoose. I am surprised as the announcement is made that David, pig botherer, Cameroon, is appointed as Foreign Secretary. After the initial shock there are acres of fill in TV full of people making up opinions and waffle to fill in time before anything else happens. My partner goes off with her brother to see their mother who has returned from her hospital visit last night. I start to do my own admin by chasing up solicitors, writing letters and tidying up the domestic environment in preparation for the coming Tesco delivery.
By lunchtime I am tired and feeling sore at my injection site. I make myself soup and move the car off the drive to leave rom for the Tesco delivery. I listen to another episode of the Infinite Monkey Cage. My partner returns and we while time away until Tesco deliver. There is a spurt of unpacking and squirrelling away the food. I return to the sofa as I feel my post injection “withdrawing junkie” state coming on. No matter how warm the house is I shiver on these injection days. All I can do is take paracetamol, grit my teeth adn take myself to bed as early as I can bear to try and sleep through the worst of the “withdrawal”. My evening then is made up of eating and then trying to be as mindless as possible till I take my night meds and fight to sleep through. These days are the low points as two 28 day cycles collide, however I will stand, hold my ground and come through to some equilibrium.
