I have become the ultimate one sided bulimic. I throw up without the binge eating. A big glass of water, and I’m in the toilet. A bite of something to eat, and its to the toilet, even my pregnancy tablets last ten minutes, then I throw them up. It’s rather antisocial. The problem is that I’ve not actually been able to eat and keep anything down since Thursday. I went to the doctor yesterday and she chose to change my antibiotics as the ones I were on would apparently make the nausea worse. I had the first one fine, with some lunch (I had to go to four different shops to find a cheese and onion sandwich. I’ve never been much of a fan, but that’s what I had to have yesterday) and that, miraculously stayed down, perhaps cause I’d just given up half my weight in blood (three vials really, but it might as well have been more!) but last night’s tablet managed to dissolve the shell but the bits inside landed right in the sewage works again. Lovely.
The doctor said that the UTI has become worse, although I do feel better, which I’m sure is because of the D-Mannose I took on Thursday/Friday. She also said that I had ketones in my urine and if I don’t start eating soon, and keeping the food down, she’s going to admit me to hospital to go on an IV drip. My glucose level and blood pressure were fine (109/85) On the questionable up side, I’ve lost 7 kilograms since new years.
I’m really struggling with work at the moment. Both the doing of it and the motivation for it. It’s not that there’s anything else I’d rather be doing, I just don’t feel like doing that anymore. I’ve always been very committed and regularly worked 40+ hour weeks, and now I’m lucky if I make 7 hours a day. My boss, Rachel, has been incredibly supportive and sends me home to work from there quite often, sometimes daily, which I can do with some efficiency, but I do feel like I’m not giving it my 100% which makes me feel very guilty. Sadly, no work for me means no pay, so I have to keep pressing on.
Martin has been the most amazing husband throughout all this. The house might look like a bomb hit it, not helped by the builders downstairs covering everything in a layer of dust on a daily basis (yesterday they were knocking the wall down as I was leaving. At the top of the stairs I looked normal, by the bottom I was covered in a layer of white dust and could chew the sand in my mouth. That helped the nausea. Not. But Martin is just being amazing. I can’t stand any odours at the moment, not coffee, or food cooking or garlic or anything and he has been so exceptionally good about looking after himself. Coming in from a long day at work to cook for himself and try to clean up after himself, he’s doing the washing and continuously conscious of my needs. I am so grateful for him. I don’t know what I would do without him. The problem is that even though I’m nauseous in the morning, and tired and nauseous in the afternoon, the bulk of my throwing up and feeling dreadful happens in the evenings/later at night, so even if I do manage to put a day of work in, I just can’t function at night.
Just four or so more weeks of this to go, hopefully.