On Thursday I submitted the last of my blood pressure readings for the week to the GP. On Friday I received a text message from the GP saying that he was pleased to see the numbers are getting closer to where he’d like to see them. Then the question “How are you feeling in yourself?” followed by a link to a form to fill in for the answer.
I really don’t know what to say. “I’ve never felt so shit in my life” doesn’t seem to be a particularly helpful response, but if I actually start to list everything I’m struggling with at the moment it’s quite depressing. It feels as though I have a choice between coming off the drugs, having my life return to what passes for normal and accepting the increased risk of something quite unpleasant happening “soon” (which in turn would probably make my life quite grim), or keep taking the meds and having a marginally less grim life but still be unable to do almost anything I enjoy.
I’ve been pressing apples this week. There are far fewer than last year, so I’m actually doing less than half the work that I was twelve months ago, but taking the same amount of time. I was lifting bottles of juice out of the pasteuriser at one point and was quite insistently told to stop because I looked so awful.
This is not me, nor the way I want my life to be. I don’t really know how to “stop”. “Doing stuff” is how I am.