So top surgery is 21 days away!
Saw GP last week this time, got blood tests for T levels (normal) meds to help me relax and sleep, antibiotics for chest infection and just general “you can take this supplement to help mental and physical health and top surgery prep, but not those, and this for nervous exhaustion as Vitamin B (most common stress remedy) clashes with your ant-depressants (yes, that ONE anti-dep that clashes with Vit. B is the one I’m on – Paxil).
And I’m feeling MUCH better. Able to rest and sleep (when I force myself to relax; still struggling with that) with aid of benzo (sometimes a necessary evil, especially when monitored correctly and used short-term). Sleep. Is. Fucking. Important. for stress, peeps with mental health issues and nervous exhaustion. There’s a reason we sleep a third of our lives away.
Flu symptoms gone apart from chesty (excuse the pun) cough, but after figuring out Vicks Medi-Nite makes me ready to run a marathon rather than knock me out, I got Benylin for wet cough which has no alcohol, sugar, codein or any other counterintuitive ingredients.
So cough and chest should be better by Friday. Blood pressure and pulse good (“even in context of your state”, says Doc. So should be able to get last pec-pumping workouts in in 10 days’ time.
Eating better despite no appetite, resting more, though still not enough, and just feeling less on the edge of the abyss.
Seeing Psychiatrist tomorrow (been unavailable) just as last confirmation of how I am and how to proceed, and seeing therapist twice a week instead of once.
Selfcare still a learning curve, but will post about that soon. For now, yay!!! on track, and counting down the days to booblessness.
Thank you ALL for your continued support:
- messages of love, surgery fund donators, new spoonie friends, spoonie coffee dates, and old spoonie friends just for existing in my life and GETTING IT,
- Bianca, my housemate, confidant and chauffeur, cook, nurse and bottlewasher,
- my therapist, Casey Blake (trans-friendly boundary building supervisor extraoirdinaire),
- Dr Robyn Petrie (the epitome of empathy, bedside manner and trans-friendliness),
- my pug spirit animal, Lily, and,
- me – for doing what’s necessary for ME, despite gnawing sense of failure, guilt, and all other useless but claw-sinking-into-soul ever-presence. 💜💜💜