Late frustration

I've just found out that the National Hospital of Neurology and Neurosurgery, where I am supposed to be referred to for my next consultation, has never had a referral letter from my GP.

I have in front of me the letter to my GP, from St Helier hospital, saying they are discharging me from their hospital and I should be referred to the National Hospital.

It is dated 6th October 2014.

On Friday it will be 4 months since that letter was sent.
I wondered what was taking so long.

Turns out, my GP failed me.

I am fuming beyond words, but I'm taking control of the situation. They will refer me this week, if it takes a phone call everyday to check up on them.


Just when I thought I was feeling the worst I could.

The Wheels on the Bus

So, I'm siting on the bus last night, and I really think I might be sick. 

I don't often get nausea with my headaches, but yesterday was one of those unusual days. I thought it was because I was hungry, when I got it on the way home from London. But I'd eaten, and now it's that dinner I'm threatening to revisit.

And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing. I'm still going out to the cinema even though I've felt rough all day. When I got home I went straight upstairs and did some mindfulness. And in those moments of quiet my head threatened to get worse. The throbbing quickened, sharpened. And then it calmed. 
But then as I did some washing up, it tightened. I almost burst into tears at sheer frustration. Then I took a few deep breaths, hardened my resolve, and carried on.

And now I was sitting on the bus, feeling sick and getting awful sharp pulses in my neck - my neck! - that were only adding to the deep aching that had spent most of the day in the right side of my head, but now for some reason was residing in the left temple. 
A drink or two, and then two hours in a dark room with bright lights on a big screen and loud noises all around. Just what the doctor didn't order.

But you know what?
My head got bearable halfway through my first rum and coke. And whilst I was aware of the pain, I was too distracted to pay attention to it. 
It was bearable throughout the movie. 
And outside, it only reared ugly, aching, nauseous head again when I had to run like a superhero for the bus. 

So there I was - again - sitting on a bus, with a pounding head and that feeling in my mouth that you get just before you vomit.
But I didn't. I got home. I took my pills. I went to bed.

And today is another day. Today is another day of fighting my head. Fighting for a pain free life. 
Fighting for myself. 

My Head Aches: Part 4

My Head Aches: Video blog part 3

Don't Let It Get Me

It's hard not to be disappointed. Going to a new alternative therapist, hoping against hope that this one will be different. This one will work wonders.
This one can help you be fixed.


First impressions aren't everything but...my first impressions were not favourable.

"So, dude, what do you think's inside that hatch thing?" "Hope. I think hope's inside."

August 2015 is an important anniversary. In 1 year and 2 months I will have had this headache for 10 years. 

A decade of pain. A decade of frustration and despair. 

A decade of false hope.

I don't want to get to August next year and still be in pain. I want it to stop. I want to be better. I want to be fixed. 

When I was told that because I had chronic pain I couldn't bungy jump, I was angry. Angry at my body, my head. Angry at life. I wanted to get this sorted, I wanted it to stop holding me back. I wanted to be free.

So I went to the doctor yesterday, to ask his opinion. To ask someone else what I should be doing, what I could be doing. 

I opened the hatch. 

And what was inside?

Sorry Locke, but it sure as hell wasn't hope. 

I want to be fixed? 

It's about time I fixed myself.