7 from 7

I was glad that I decided to go to the rugby on Saturday, we won our seventh game on the bounce, beating Rochdale Hornets. I cheered and sang so much that I lost my voice again. Two more games, one home, one away, and then it's play offs. 

I paid for it yesterday, though. Despite a nine hour sleep, I managed to wash up and do a wash load and that was the height of it. The brain fog was back with a vengeance. I was back in bed a little after midday, and I slept until three o'clock. Woke up to find Mr G back from work and everything. I had slept so deeply that I'd drooled all over my pillow.  

And then I burst into tears when he stood up and said he was going to prepare tea. Now, I know it's what you do. It's what I've done nigh on every night for years. And I've lost count of the times I've had to nurse him back to health. So of course he should do it if I'm feeling under par. However, the sheer frustration in me that I haven't even got the energy to walk a few paces to the kitchen and prepare a simple meal - we weren't talking Beef sodding Wellington, here, it was only a pasta bake... I was sobbing and he decided chippy tea. On the plus side, I now know what to do in future to gets me a fish. On the minus side, I'm not a crier, I'm a coper, and I feel so bloody useless right now. The house is a state, an absolute state. And I just can't.

Had some bad news Saturday night too, our Slimming World consultant videocalled us while we were just on our way home. I knew something was amiss because she's so busy that it's usually a Whatsapp or she will message on Facebook. She told us that she has resigned with immediate effect. So, God knows who and what we will be walking into this morning. I felt so bad for her, she's become a really good friend to us, to all of us, over the last two years. If the ones higher up had anything about them they'd have begged her to reconsider, and made any changes to get her to stay. But they hadn't, and after a trying personal year (on top of Covid decimating her business) she had to put her own mental health first. I just hope they don't shove weeks and weeks worth of temporary consultants on us like they did last time. They were all lovely, don't get me wrong, but they didn't care about us like they do their own group members.   

Now, I just hope that I get some news tomorrow. I'm torn between hoping that the blood tests show something, and hoping they don't. Obviously, I don't want an illness, but I want some answers as to why I feel so terrible. At least if I know, I can medicate, or change my lifestyle or my diet.