It's the 26th of January again. Six years ago, I insisted on having some blood work done because I felt ill and exhausted and thought I might be slightly anemic. Or at least, suffering from messed up electrolytes because I hadn't been able to keep any food inside me for a few days. Friends had been telling me I wasn't imagining, I really looked ill ( Read more... )

For reasons that only my immune system can answer (and it doesn't talk to me much), my body has suddenly decided to cooperate with my meds. Of course, it decided to do that a week before I saw my new GP to ask for referrals. Good timing, eh ( Read more... )

*blows dust off the furniture ( Read more... )

I assume that at some stage I'll look at the calendar on January 26th and not be thinking about where I was at this time N years ago. This isn't that year ( Read more... )

( Cut for medical stuff )

Helpful hint to fanfic writers: typos will slip through even the most thorough beta, but really try hard on slaughtering the typos in sex scenes.

Bugle <> bulge ( Read more... )

Dear immune system ( Read more... )

Every now and again, say every fourth or fifth dose, my fortnightly injectable medication makes me feel like hell. Usually nausea, headache and general fluish exhaustion ( Read more... )

That title sums things up. So tired, so sleepy, would kill for sleeping through an entire night. Or even just for more than one hour at a time ( Read more... )

So, my day has been reorganised, I'm missing some of the rugby and my tummy has shrunk enough to barely manage half the pasta lunch I just treated myself to ( Read more... )