was when it started to go wrong.
I thought I was drowning in love. The man in question, Mr Sleezeball, an ageing writer with a false air of relaxed deliciousness, liked my company , liked sleeping with me, liked the exciting parts of me and my spontaneity but was resolutely refusing to commit anything at all except the 'beauty of the present moment'. He was always leaving the room it seemed. Always had somewhere else to be.
So I was getting thin. I was getting desperate. I was smoking roll ups and drinking black coffee and had turned vegan for some reason I now forget and we trapsed off on a disastrous holiday to France, him and his two oversized, over-volumed boys, me and my two beautifully full-on little ones, where he became so ill the 'holiday' was dominated by his bloody diareahha. I ended up looking after four children, whilst chasing round chemists in the south of France searching for obscure medicines and scouring restaurants for 'une omlette, s'il vous plait.' I always said it was for my husband. It sounded better that way. We'd hired a car, which he'd assured me he would drive, but I ended up having to drive it, and I scraped the wheel, and we were screaming at each other about the insurance, and the last straw came when I asked him on the ferry home to reassure me that nothing had changed between us and he just looked at me and said 'our relationship is what it is; that's why we're having counselling'.
Which we were. We'd been having counselling since 6 months after we met, which should have told me something. I am Very Stupid when it comes to men.
And then a week after our return, I sat down on the toilet, stood up again, and the entire toilet was red. I thought my period was early, but it was blood from my anus. I thought I was dying, haemorraging. We rushed to a&E. I was there for 2 and a half weeks in the end, in isolation, in a dirty smelly NHS cupboard hastily converted to a 'sideroom' by the addition of a bed and a 'commode' and strict instructions not to leave the room in case I contaminated others with the diagnosed Cryptosporidium, caught from Sleezeball's dirty canal and/or boat. They also found my stomach in a terrible state of inflammation.
Mr Sleezeball visited me twice, in those 17 days of hospital. Soon after I was discharged, he 'dumped' me. Because love , after all, is letting go.
And after a few weeks of crazed semi-anorexic heartache, my bladder suddenly took on the anger. It's been the same ever since.
I have been ill for a year. It will have been a year on September 12th.
Please please please god buddha mother universe if you are there , please just make it go away. I just want my life back. and as for you, Mr Sleezeball - bullshitter - womaniser - good time guy..... I hope you rot in hell.
About Me
- rainbowgirl
- This blog is about coping with the strains of chronic illness whilst bringing up two beautiful children; it's also about the stresses of bringing up two children on your own while suffering with a chronic ongoing health problem which is at times very severe.... you can look at it either way. It's about being a single mum; it's about raising awareness of Interstitial Cystitis; it's about helping me cope. Writing this blog is beginning to bring me back to who I really am, who I really always was, before the single motherhood took over full time, before the illness set in.... a writer. I've always written, from essays to stories to journalism. This is the first thing I've written in years. It's helping me regain my confidence. PLEASE DO LEAVE ME COMMENTS AFTER MY POSTS! I'd genuinely love to hear your views on my (sometimes controversial) opinions. Thank you for taking the time to read. It would be great if you could comment so I know that you've been here and what you think.
It is so interesting and surprising to hear that you have a definite reason you can pinpoint that triggered your I.C. 'Cryptosporidium caught from a dirty canal boat.' So many of us with I.C and it's related conditions are left scratching our heads, desperately looking back at our past actions and past events, trying to figure out what brought it about. I wonder whether it is worse knowing what caused it, knowing that someone else kind of caused it by putting you in that situation. Don't you feel so much anger towards him? Don't you constantly go back to that time in your minds eye and wish you could change it? Or does knowing make you feel less anxious and worried? xx
ReplyDeleteThank you for taking the time to comment. Yes I feel a huge amount of anger. I think the anger may be contributing to my illness on a spiritual level so I am trying to work on the anger, but I cannot seem to forgive him, no. (Did you know Louise Hay says that cystitis is literally being Pissed Off with an ex?? i find that so reductive and yet it could have some truth... i wrote a post on it, 'is my bladder angry?') The doctors are mystified though about the connection between the crypto and gastritis and the sudden onset of IC. It's not even clear that I had a bacterial UTI at all. They think it's to do with my immune system, but that's about it. When they opened me up, they saw the raw, inflamed bladder, the mast cells, the chronic inflammation.. and they know it must be linked, but as to HOW - well I'm as in the dark as most of us ICers.I do go back in time and wish I could change it but it's a pointless exercise. I have to live with how life is right now. And I wish I could feel less anger and fury as I do think it is impeding my recovery.
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