Hey Guys, Welcome back to my little corner of the internet –
The internet is such a picture perfect place isn’t it? Well, instagram anyway.. I can tell you from person experience – it’s total and utter bullshit.
Where the hell do I start? If 2020 wasn’t going to absolute shite before, it is now – See, Shite is fine; It’s like a posh way of saying Sh*t, right?! Maybe? Okay well.. let’s give me that one..
So, we all know I’m 29 and waiting for that midlife crisis, hence starting the “almost 30 blog post” but Jheeze! The last week has been an absolute whirl wind of emotion, and really, all I want to actually do is chill with the girls or sit in Bella Italia with April for 2342 Hours, order way too much food and gossip about life in general.. But alas, Boris is still a wanker (I’m saying it, I don’t care, I’m bored of lockdown and covid but again that’s another story).
So, Boris made me take another month off of work even though hair and beauty rates were next to nothing (honestly pal, thanks, a lot.. that’s 8 months this year!) – But I’m, now BACK! I was allowed to go back to work again on Wednesday 2nd December – but of course, me being me – going straight back to work would be just far too easy wouldn’t it?
So, the last few weeks I’ve been beyond stressed out, I was really good at covering it and only Will really knew. I was stressing about absolutely everything in life that realistically comes with a pandemic, and whilst doing so I was pushing the best people away in order to protect myself (Shout out to me, because I do this A LOT – or I runaway, but Will’s banned me from doing that now..) so anyway, yeah.. basically I over stress and I’m a bit of a twat.. But what’s the best thing to do during a world wide pandemic?
Stress yourself into A&E of course!
So, keep in mind, works on Wednesday, and I’m in A&E on Monday evening due to projectile vomiting blood all over my bathroom and other various locations in the house.. (too much info? Ooops, you should probably stop reading because it’s going to get worse..).
Will’s got a deadline so he can’t be there with me, and I’m only allowed one person who’s in my bubble.
At this point I didn’t really realise how serious it was so I took Sonic & Tails on my switch as my “+1” and kept in touch with people throughout the night.
Now I’m not one to complain (that’s a lie), but why is there ALWAYS that one person in the waiting room that doesn’t shut up? Do we need to hear your FaceTime call for 2+ hours to someone about how terrible your life is and how it’s a “P*ss take” when you’re not called in next because you’re just in so much pain (the huge amount of pain that actually makes total sense and explains why you keep getting up to charge your phone in different plugs throughout the waiting room, verbally abuse anyone that smiles at you, including NHS staff and basically just make absolutely everyone uncomfortable around you for the entire time your in there.. including an older man that tried to defend you and you bit his head off.. shout out to you if for some unknown reason you’re reading this, you are a knob.
But anyway, back to me, because you know, this is all about me right now.. So, I get rushed through the covid screening part, straight into majors and I’m that dosed up on morphine and whatever else, I make two friends in the cubical next to me – to this point I still don’t know their names but hey, you’re great! ( No honestly, they we’re great, making me laugh etc for hours to make sure I was okay even though they were there for themselves, maybe human beings aren’t so bad after all?)
Rushed through scans, and I’m told I’m going to need to stay in, well no – it’s Monday, they can’t do anything until Wednesday, what do they expect me to do, stay in a COVID hospital until Wednesday? It’s a no from me, so reluctantly, the doctor and surgical team agree I’m allowed to go home IF I take it easy, bed rest only and come back in an ambulance if the pain gets any worse..
So it turns out I have what they thought was a stress ulcer attached to my tummy, and they were worried it was going to *insert some word that begins with a P here* but basically burst which is why it was bed rest time..
Tuesday morning comes along, I’m still ridiculously stressed with life but I sleep thanks to codeine and a sleeping pill. Tuesday evening comes along the stress is kind of sorted, and I’m getting ready for an EASY day at work on Wednesday.
Everyone that knows me knows I don’t do things by halves, so actually halving my appointments and moving slots around is actually a huge thing for me but I did it. I fitted 2 lots of hair extensions and then went home.
Thursday I then did a handful of appointments and went back to the hospital on Friday for my little operation to remove said ulcer.
(Admittedly it was meant to be before Friday, but your girl over here had a speed awareness Course she had to do via zoom from her bed.. just don’t ask, this is how my 2020 has gone..)
Friday comes, I’m chilling at Will’s taking it easy, JOKE, I’m an absolute bitch cause I’m scared, nervous, and beyond stressed out to the point I’m pretty certain this thing is going to burst at any given second.. Off we go to the hospital on Friday afternoon, and it’s removed. The team are lovely and I have to have not only another external scan, but an internal one too. Why is COVID a thing?
I could really do with my boyfriend making me laugh with the worst jokes known to man at this point.. (I don’t laugh at the jokes, I laugh at his grin after because he’s so proud) I’ve got my AirPods with me, so what do we do? We message Elise and Alex with random useless information and of course, I message Scottie B for a play list of songs that I just MUST listen too.. and the guy came through, all straight bangers, 10/10’s.
At this point, Carly the angel that she is (also a nurse, why she isn’t some next level surgeon I have no idea but she is literally the meaning of life at this point) is messaging me, checking up on me constantly and making me smile.
I go back to Will’s to rest with the news that they have to take I biopsy to make sure it’s not cancerous – I’m a little down but I explain all the details to Elise who almost throws up.. which for some reason cheers me up greatly and makes me laugh..
We order food and wait for results..
It’s now Tuesday, but I got the results yesterday, it’s not cancerous,
But Oh Shit, not even Shite, just Shit.. Your girls got to have an ovary removed.
How am I supposed to feel? Because honestly? I really don’t know and making jokes is the only way to go about it at the moment, but I know at some point I actually need to process this as it’s not a small thing.
Apparently ranting and typing and forgetting to try and be this perfect blogger has helped. This is how I speak, this is how I type, and this is me. The Real Me. The Girl that’s about to lose an ovary at the age of 29, the girl that has no kid and the girl that has no fucking clue what she’s actually doing with her life.. So sits and makes tiktoks to past the time..
Has anyone else been through anything like this, or similar to this?
I’ve had so much love and support from my favourite people though and I’m forever grateful.
So, here’s my question, Is this too personal for the internet?