I’m tired

So very tired. 
I’m tired of the usual things; Brexit, work drudgery, politics, office politics, winter and lack of sleep.

I’m tired because of Sadie, but in a good way, as the more tired I am,the more waking hours I get to spend with her.  There’s nothing like a new(ish) baby to reduce the amount of sleep for any parent. I share this with Candice and we love every second of it, but what I am focusing on is different.

Ask Candice, ask my mum, ask my colleagues; my typical answer to “How are you?” is that “I’m tired”. I am trying to think back to when this started and perhaps someone can help me here, 5 years ago, maybe 10. It’s getting worse.

I try to avoid the question, “how are you”, but what should I do? Lie? “All good mate, Bonza!”.  

Perhaps dump on random strangers – the guy in Eat this morning who was just being polite? On colleagues, friends, family – maybe call centre staff?  Often I say “next question” which just moves things along. Late night radio host, Mike Dickin used to say “my health is not in question” repeatedly, maybe this will work.

The truth is that I’m not OK, I’m not ‘fine’. I’m angry, I’m fragile, I’m exhausted,

Maybe this is a direct symptom. I have few symptoms, I think.  This in itself makes things difficult, I simply don’t know. Outwardly, I look and sound healthy which is a blessing, but is becoming a curse.  I get breathless easily – even going up the stairs has me puffing – but then I can convince my body to run 5 or 6km. 10km is proving too much and I’m slowing down; puffing, tired – the marathon fitness of years past irretrievably lost.

The bags under my eyes are growing – or are they? Is it all in my head.  I am asking myself if I am being melodramatic. I like melodrama; I have a flair for it – is this as serious as I think it is?  Is it worse? Or is it just an overreaction to a benign routine procedure with a good success rate?

I have a reputation for being grumpy and that’s fine, I enjoy it. It’s more though – it runs deeper.  I’m tired. The very fibre of my being; my soul (if such things exist) is drained.

I’m tired of the visits to the hospital, waiting for the time they will tell me that they want to cut me open.  I’m especially tired of the lead-up to these appointments where I would have a regular stress-fest.

I’m tired of the waits between appointments when I find out what is going to happen next.

I’m tired of having to explain my conditon to the next fucking Doctor that makes me do it every single fucking time despite the fact that I fully understand why my heart is broken.

I’m tired of looking well but but having a time bomb inside of me.

I’m tired of waiting for surgery that I found out was needed in July ‘19.

I’m tired of having to organise that surgery with AXA and fighting them to pay for it.

I’m tired of upsetting other people with my news

I’m tired of drawing a random genetic short straw.

I’m tired of people telling me it will be ok with no frame of reference (although I really do appreciate the positivity).

I’m tired of medical people who do have a frame of reference telling me it will be ok, when they’re not the ones getting cut open and having their hearts stopped for 3 hours.

I’m tired of getting upset when I think about the future.

I’m tired of googling ‘long-term survival rates’’ and adding them to …..34/35/36/37……

I’m tired of heart disease.

I’m tired of having lost control of my life.

I know I’m not special, shit happens to people all the time. I can think of friends who have been to some very dark places, and I’ll probably be fine, right? At least for a few years?

I want this done, I need this done, now. Out the way so I can get on with the rest of life, whatever that will bring. Maybe a few years where they say “everything is great”, or “not getting worse”. Just one more time, I’d take it.

Maybe everyone is really just about to jump out with banners and balloons and say it’s been one big elaborate hoax, maybe this will be tomorrow – oh how we would laugh. But it’s not. The new year has rolled round, its real and it’s shit, but that’s life.

Everything will be fine though, I’ll get my life back. Regain control, surely?

I want to talk about our plans for the future and focus on the positives but I guess this one just got away from me……..

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