When lockdown started I had barely gotten out of hospital after having a baby. Then, I had major surgery for a burst ulcer when my daughter was 2.5 weeks old. So, as you can imagine, I honestly didn’t even notice lockdown all that much at first.
Recovery time for having a baby, plus for major surgery, as well as being a new parent… yeah, I would have spent a lot of time indoors regardless of whether it was lockdown or not.
Some of you will have heard about my crazy ordeal. For those that haven’t I’ll summarise it real quick – in March I suffered an ulcer perforation that nearly killed me. I had major surgery, but 4 months on I’m still suffering with more pain than I should be. Despite doctors’ concerns, it was looking like I would have to present in A&E, because the pandemic made waiting lists too long for me to get necessary investigations. If you want to read more please read this.
Now the great news is: I had a call last week from the endoscopy clinic to book me in. I’m having an endoscopy next week. I’m not sure if this is thanks to a lovely doctor who wanted to hurry it up, or if the consultants realised it was too risky to leave me. Regardless, I’m grateful it’s been sped up. I never knew I could be so excited to be told I was having a camera shoved down my throat!
The not so great news (aside from the fact that I’m having a camera shoved down my throat) is that I have to self-isolate for a week.
This isn’t a big deal, I know it isn’t a big deal, it’s literally one week. And yet I can’t shake this huge sense of overwhelm. I can’t pin point exactly what it is that’s making me feel overwhelmed.
Maybe it’s my anxiety playing up, or the fact that I’m due on and my hormones still go a bit nuts when due on because I recently had a baby. Maybe it’s both of these things. They’re pretty valid reasons alone to feel overwhelmed, even without cause.
Or it could be the fact that I am having the endoscopy, and the worry about what the results might be. Reality could be setting in.
Psychologists say that traumatic events can only count as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when it’s been at least 6 months. The reasoning behind this is that it takes a person up to 6 months to even process trauma.
I know this because I had such horrific reactions to what happened, that I enquired about trauma therapy. Anyone who has read my ‘with thanks to ‘Ol Covid’ post will know I’m still pretty scared. I suffered some dreadful flashbacks for a while, of waking up to the pain of my abdomen being filled with blood and shit, my organs shutting down. I was also struggling to sleep because of these flashbacks. I was rather desperate for some therapy, or really anything that might make them stop.
It’s only logical that when it seems to be recurring whilst within the 6 month processing period, I’m bound to feel overwhelmed and scared.
On top of this I did a thing. I did a really, really stupid thing. I broke the one rule that everyone knows about health issues. Do not google it. Oops. We all know that if we google a health problem, all we’re going to find out is that we are doomed, and we’re definitely 100% going to die some awful death soon. Seriously, what was I thinking? Because having a camera shoved down your throat, in times where nobody can even enter the hospital with me, wasn’t enough for my nerves? Sometimes, I really doubt my intelligence.
I definitely feel a little sad too. I know it’s only one week but I feel like for the first time in a long time I’m doing really well with my social anxiety. I’ve been meeting friends each week, even making new friends (and new baby friends for Pickle!) and it’s doing me so much good. It’s a shame to pause a thing that’s been making me feel so great, even if only briefly. Also, it’s surprising how long each day can be when you’re trying to entertain a baby.
I’ll also just be a lot less busy. I’ll be entertaining my little one more without the help of others or being outside. I’ll have much less adult interaction. Then at the end, I get a camera shoved down my throat, which thanks to google I know will probably tell me I’m about to meet my demise.
All joking aside for a moment. As I’ve written before I am genuinely quite scared that this could kill me. That one is bound to be a reason for feeling overwhelmed about isolating for the procedure, to then find out what’s causing all this pain.
I suppose there are a few good reasons for feeling this overwhelm. I don’t have much choice but to ‘tough it out’. Keep my head held high and remind myself that it is only a week.
I’ll try not to overthink (you can tell that’s been going well thus far), and I’ll keep reminding myself to be grateful that I can socialise again in a weeks time. And hey, I guess I should be proud of myself for getting to a point where my social anxiety isn’t so crippling that I can barely socialise. All in all, health aside, things are massively on the up for me, I’ll try to keep that my focal point.
If my writings get a little weird guys, bear with me. It’ll just be me going a little crazy because I’m cooped up inside for a week with a baby. See you on the other side!