It’s Here.

You know what the title refers to, right? It’s here. Properly here.

Last night my fellow third wheel and I went for a walk while the lovebirds were at bingo, and he won me some tickets to get a surfboard key ring. We spent a while and several £s trying to win me a stuffed minion cuddly toy that I’ve wanted since I got here. We weren’t successful, and I was drunk from one drink. We met the others and went back to the caravan where the boys got very very drunk right after we all decided that tomorrow (which is now today) we’d go to hospital to stop me having to argue with the grim reaper (preventing the situation is better than watching me almost die, we decided). We also made a bonfire on the patio by the caravan because sixth form friend seems to like burning our rubbish instead of putting it in a bin. My fellow third wheel and I decided that he’s going to come and stay with me in London when I’m back at uni, and that I would go to stay with him if he gets into the uni of his choice. He has a ridiculous alcohol tolerance and said we’d be drinking buddies so he could kind of look after me. I decided he was more awesome than I had already concluded.

Then we moved onto another arcade and the boys made it their mission to get me enough tickets that I could get a cuddly minion that way instead. My fellow third wheel paid and sixth form friend tried to win tickets and they succeeded. I got a minion. There were many hugs. 

When we headed home to watch DVDs I realised that the drunk, unable to function, world spinning feeling was from illness not alcohol. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I did a shot of IV, went to bed with a nosebleed from only one side (which lasted for almost 45 minutes), and hoped.

I woke up in a panic with acid rising in my throat. I was too unwell to get out of the bed so I somehow suppressed the urge and went back to sleep. 

A couple of hours later. Stumbling urgently to the bathroom. Not enough energy to vomit without passing out but my stomach didn’t care. This event induced a state of panic. This is the stage at which I know I will not be able to fix things myself… I did another shot of IV, meant to wake the others up and ask them to drive me to the hospital, but it was by this point 6:30am and I thought I might be able to hold it off until morning (also I feI l asleep involuntarily without meaning to or remembering doing so at all). I have held it off. But it is still very much there and I cannot hold it off for another day. It has me now and I cannot escape its grasp. 

We were meant to go swimming this morning, but when the others saw me they decided I looked too unwell to swim (or even to wake up) so they let me sleep. They swam, then the boys played tennis. They have decided that at some point today, if this doesn’t improve or I get worse, they are calling an ambulance. We are driving up to Great Yarmouth later because I’ve never been and sixth form friend loves it there. We’ve decided that on the way we will re-evaluate the situation. These guys know when and where to draw the line, they are sensible. I am too unwell to protest. Thankfully, I am also too unwell to have any sort of emotional reaction to this. I am emotionally exhausted by my health. 

That’s it for now, I need to sleep. I have no choice. 

I feel like I’ve let everyone down and at the same time these guys make me feel like there is nothing wrong with this and it is no big deal at all. They dampened down the destructive fire of my shame and understood my disappointment (both of which were/ are so intense I cannot adequately describe them), and at the same time made me feel like I can overcome both. I love them all for that.

My fellow third wheel is also currently in bed. He’s been swimming and played tennis but he was up most of the night and drunk vomited and stuff. He also has chronic fatigue, so hopefully that hasn’t flared up as a result. But anyway, the lovebirds are out being normal humans somewhere. And I am trying to accept the fact that I am not. I have been incredibly lucky to enjoy this much of the holiday and I really cannot complain because I have enjoyed more than I could ever ask for or hope for. I got my chance to be 20, to feel my age. It was finally my turn. 

I am not ready to do this again.

But there is no way but through.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “It’s Here.

  1. My best friend had sickle cell anemia. When ever we made plans, the back up was to spend the day or week or month in the hospital. Always on holidays. Just the way it was. No one gave it a second thought. That is love and friendship. You have the same with your friends. Get well soon.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for the get well wish. Being well would be awesome haha, unfortunately I don’t think I will ever be that, but I definitely hope to be significantly closer to well. This is really reassuring to read, thank you so much! I guess it’s just that so many people over the years have had my health and the impact of it on themselves in the forefront of every single thought, and it has been such a big deal to a lot of people that they just walk away. I’m not used to the opposite of that. I’m not used to reactions like this and it astounds me. It feels so weird. I guess this is what true friendship is – being there for someone when it is hardest to be there. I don’t find that often.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s