So I finished my last dose of oral steroids - that's one last meal ruined!
My mum is trying to super dose me up on oily fish and made some fantastic mackerel pate. Which was totally screwed. Bleurgh.
Later that day, I had a bit of a life-laundry session with my dad, which was cool. Over the last 7 years, I've:
1) got married
2) rented two properties
3) bought a house
4) had a child
5) been diagnosed
(not in that order, obv...)
The point is, I seem to have never thrown anything away - not in some freaky, bottles-of-piss everywhere sort-of-way. Just receipts. Inventories from rental properties. Endless documents for houses we didn't buy.
And I thought I had a tidy mind.
My dad came over with his shredder and the house feels LIGHTER, somehow. Recommended. But you're probably way more organised than me.
So Tuesday was my first day without drugs. And here I am writing this with chronic chest pains at 1am on Wednesday morning. Don't know if it's connected or what, but it's pretty sucky.
I've come downstairs to waffle on like some MySpace saddo in the hope that I don't wake anyone else up.
Just trying to use the next couple of days to rest up and get my strength back.
Then I need to decide what I'm going to do about returning to work - going back full-time straight away, or staggering it with some part-time work and doing some stuff from home.
Oh Dear Diary, whatever should I do?