The curative powers of garlic bread.

The thing with EDS (and I’m sure, other chronic illness) is you never know when you’re going to be utterly floored or when you might get a second wind. Tonight I was expecting to feel more like that wrinkly, half decomposed cucumber you forgot was at the back of the fridge, but I actually feel okay. J picked up a yummy mac and cheese ready meal from Marks & Spencer on his way home from work – I was working on the basis that I was likely to regurgitate whatever I ate, but thankfully it stayed down for the first time today. I don’t think I need to explain the magical healing powers of garlic bread, do I?

 

cheese
Double-carbs. No regrets.
Because I feel a bit better, I wanted to talk briefly about the things I am grateful for. I’ve spoken in the past about the disappointment of old friends or even family not being there for me. But that’s old news and something I’ve sort of come to terms with. I can’t afford to waste time and energy worrying about people that don’t give me the time of day, or even those who talk about me and my illness having never actually spoken to me about my illness. I must use my spoons wisely and in all honesty, I should use any extra spoons I may have trying to be half as good to J as he is to me, or at least shaving my legs.

ragnarnew
Tomorrow, I am going to meet Ragnar. Maximum floof ❤
Today, I awoke from one of my many sleeps – okay, today was a big, long sleep – to a text from a friend asking if I want to meet him for a coffee tomorrow. I’ve never done anything to be an especially good friend to this guy, yet he sponsored me when I stopped biting my nails and is always very kind to me – J also rates him as a thoroughly good human being. I had a text from my brother’s girlfriend asking if we wanted to go and meet Ragnar (the kitten) today or maybe tomorrow, whatever is easier for me – they know I’m a big fat flake these days. My sister offered to come past an evening and show me how to use the super swanky camera I acquired from her – apparently using it on “auto” is a bit of a waste. My Mum used the words “you’re more important” when asking if I wanted to meet her for a coffee this week. Holy moly. I am so loved. But, just to keep my feet on the ground, J spent a whole load of time explaining his freaky green poop to me. It was green because he has eaten an obscene amount of rainbow coloured cake from the weekend. He offered to show me a photo of said poop but I fear that may result in us seeing the mac and cheese somewhat sooner than we’d bargained for. And yes, it turns out men’s group chats on Whatsapp frequently involve photos of faecal matter. Lovely, eh?

A lot of people are really lovely to me right now – too many to mention. I don’t think my friends and family realise how much of a boost it is to receive a message just asking how I’m doing. I always assume people don’t really want to know (because is IS boring) or can’t be bothered with me because I can’t do all the fun stuff any more. It’s nice to feel liked, just for being me.

Ren x

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