Same merry go round, different hair

In life we have lots of opportunities to have " fresh starts "or we make a decision to have them.
New years,... thousands of resolutions are made sometimes kept, but usually broken,.
End of a relationship,
House move,
Career move........ you name it the list goes on.

Most of the time,  you start buzzing with anticipation, new energy to put into planning and executing your new life.
This is the adrenalin our bodies create to cope with life changes we didn't want or ask for, such as  redundancy, or death of a loved one
In any case we plan and imagine our new lives, make little changes to acknowledge the new start, like a new coat, or car.. then we ....
Unless you are really lucky, either give up, hit a brick wall or carry on trying forever reaching for the fresh start.

Eventually though we just fall back into a routine one way or another.

With every new start I have had it usually involved in a relationship break down, in which instance I would get a new haircut to symbolise the " fresh start " new life ect ect.

Recently I had my much anticipated visit the Dr Green Pain management specialist.

Now if you have been following my blog, you will most likely know why I was a little sceptical about my upcoming appointment, if not and you haven't been following my blog, why not???
Well after my last encounter and the fact I am still on the waiting list, we decided I would see someone privately.
This is something I wasn't happy with as it would incur my husband more money that we didn't have on this shitty illness, but the pain has been getting me down so much that I agreed.
With the thought that if Dr Green you are the same or worse than all the others, my husband will have to bail me out of jail!!!

So I arrived with the long list of meds and symptoms in my hands, sat in a very homely yet uncomfortable waiting room.
Do you know if I ran a place for people in pain, it would be the most comfortable dam waiting room in the world! what is it with these people???

Anyway an hour and lots of paperwork later I got into see him, Wow
Within minutes he had me in tears, not because he had upset me, but because someone finally got it!
He talked about how pain works, I felt like a university student in a lecture at one point, but it made sense,
He talked about lots of things,Mainly about acceptance, not chasing the magic pill as there isn't one. Taking control and managing my symptoms, and I left armed with a booklet, a pain management toolkit, and websites to visit. Most of all though I left with something more, that I had not had for a long time optimism!

So the next day I was all fuelled up, ready for my new start, with an instant urge to cut my hair!!!
This is really strange,... then I went and cut my hair not just a trim but a whole new style....weird
I began to realise that in fact, with the wake up call from Dr  Green that I had to accept my new normal, my new way of life,
 I was in fact I was ending a relationship with myself!
all be it my old self ...

That was a few weeks ago now, and with most " fresh starts " there is the brick wall, the slip back into a routine as discussed.

I rang all fired up the physio,.... appointment what 3 freaking months away????

water exercise thingi, how much money???

Yoga, how far away????

But I`v had my hair cut!!!


hmmmm ok whats on tv.???

So what happens now, I'm still in pain, still feel sick and still have no energy but  I have realized I have to accept my new state so to speak, have said goodbye to the old life, what now??????



I then got a letter of the lovely Dr Disney...

 I have found a physician, specialised in complex cases I would like you to see, however the waiting list is huge I would advise you go private. oh fuck here we go again ....

So my new life may consist of the same medical merry go round, more money we haven't got being spent, different doctors, more waiting lists and more pills.

So whats different from my old life? whats my fresh start,?


Hey I have a new haircut!!!!!!

Groundhog Day

Urrrg Monday morning  7am alarm clock, get up, shower,dressed,breakfast then rush out of the door, to fight the early morning rush hour to work 8 maybe 9 hours in a boring job.

This is the day after day living for most of the world. Home, food, television, bed, ready to start the day over again and again. Groundhog day



For me and the rest of the chronically sick we have a different sort of groundhog day.

Now this isn't to start a pity party or a woe is me tale,  I can only tell you mine, and it may be the same or vastly different to yours but ......

It  usually starts around 3 am, that's if I have slept at all that night, sometimes I only wake up a few times before 3.
That's when the pain starts a dull aching nagging pain, which I toss and turn trying to ignore as I really don't want to wake my hubby up, he has such a long day ahead.

You see most of us with a chronic illness would rather keep quiet than to make life difficult or harder for our loved ones.
This is not being a martyr.  

We just would rather think about you than ourselves, and are so desperate to be "normal", that we will hide and cover our illness just to fool and distract ourselves by caring for you .

I manage to cope half dreaming half day dreaming for a few hours until the 5.30,/6.00am alarm goes off.

This is when I can stretch my really sore legs and arms, take a couple of pills , on some days a few more.

I kiss goodbye to my hubby as he rushes out on his way to fight the morning rush hour, hmmm now I need to sleep,
 "you have had all fooking night to sleep and you choose now great"
this is my morning grunt to myself.

If I haven't got an appointment,  I usually give in to my body and drift off to sleep again.

BIG mistake... huge!

Which I am usually lulled into making again and again. because every time I do this, I wake up in more pain, feel sick and have a headache.

 Don't get me wrong I have these anyway but to nap again, wow its 10 fold .

So my day begins regardless of an appointment or not. I gently sit up not moving more than I need to. and reach into my drawer for my medication case.

The  reason my pills are in my drawer are because for some reason, it makes me feel better not letting anyone see the amount of pills I take so I hide them like a pill addict.
I wont even take them in front of you because it will remind you I am sick.

 I get my medicine case, . It has all the days of the week on and am and pm, which along with a dressing gown and slippers, I got for Christmas

When I received this particular gift I hated it, again it reminded me I`m sick and it was like something old people use because they cant remember what they had for dinner.

Wake up call I can't remember what I had for dinner most days not to mention if Iv taken my morning pills.
So with great reluctance it is hidden away like my shopping trolley, used but never to be seen by my hubby.

 I now actually find the pill case is my godsend, even though sometimes I take my pills, refill the case, then can't remember if I've taken them because I have refilled it !!!

After taking pills, I then make my way to the bathroom.

Even though I`m lucky and have an on suit, it feels like walking miles in tin armor that is in dire need of oiling clunk clunk clunk.

 Once I have taken half an hour putting my slouchy clothes on, with so much ooohh and haaa noises, that I have to keep the bathroom window closed..... as the neighbors will think we have very noisy sex every morning....

second thoughts keep it open they may be impressed......



I then clunk my way to the kettle morning coffee hmmm......








I then spend sometime on the laptop procrastinating taking a shower,
For anyone with a chronic illness you will know that this is probably the most exhausting part of the day.

God bless Johnston facial wipes and dry shampoo for my bad days, the chronic illness survival pack must contain at least these two items.

After this exhausting event I then get breakfast, how much depends on how sick I feel.

 The decider then comes whether I can face shopping or whether I txt my hubby to pick it up on the way home.

Most days I decide to make the trek to the shops, and we all know how difficult that is, so I wont bore you with that saga again ( The Light keeper).

Again this isn't martyr ism, it is me just like most chronically ill folk,  pretending be a normal house wife/husband, a lifestyle choice, a choice that involves my best friend and hubby, going to work whilst I did the day to day chores.

Now before all the feminists yell and scream, I said I pretend, because the reality is I want to work, be a normal functioning partner that is an equal money earner.
Not to be able to be this or a " normal housewife" either is hard.

So as I say most days I push to do the shopping, on bad I make the call or txt.

The rest of my day will consist of, me doing my blog or page, or bad bad days laying napping in bed.
I then greet my hubby, ask how his day was, and like all of us down play how bad mine was.

Have tea ,which with any luck wont involve a brain fog induced visit from the fire brigade. However if this happens too frequently ..... maybe its just a perk

Watch television go to bed, ready to start the day over and over again. same ground hog just different day

 This is to give you a little insight into my day as a chronically sick person. So if you are sick it may be similar and it may give you some reassurance you're not alone.

 If you're a loved one of someone who is chronically ill, maybe it will just give you little insight into our day.

Me, a mirror and a parallel universe

Sat in a doctors waiting room, palms sweating, stomach churning and a friend or loved on comforting you, " It will be OK , I`m sure its nothing just routine"

Most of us have been there at some point in our lives, either as the patient or the comforter.

We as humans are programed to fear the the worst in these situations. Fear the doctor Will reveal the test was positive , you have such and such and that they will need to operate as soon as possible.

But what happens when you are fearing the doctor wont give you bad news????

This is the feeling I had sat waiting to see my cardiologist.

To sit there praying that he will say he has found something, and that he will have to organise surgery is a very scary place to be , it makes you question you're mental state, still does.

Does this mean I have some other disorder?

Munchausen??       OMG! 

Ok I`m going to backtrack and explain why I came to this very dark and odd place.

The last visit I had to my Cardiologist I was very proactive in my approach.

I went in armed with information on my unusual heart, I told him about my chats with other TGA survivors,who had undergone procedures that had helped them feel a lot better, given them a better quality of life.

My Doctor Disney assured me he did have a plan, the next thing was to look more closely at my leaky valves with a view to replacing them.

So in the last two months......

I have had all the tests that they arranged, talked to my friends, my kids and my hubby and somehow convinced myself, that when I saw him, Disney, that he will have the " magic pill" that came in the form of an operation.

Then just like all conventional illnesses, it would cure me, make me feel human again,give me back my energy, my life.

                                              ( well maybe not quite this)

So here I am sat with my friend, whom I am so grateful to.also, between you and me she not only came to give me some moral support but to get a look at the infamous Dr cutie whom she definitely thought was hot!!! 

" Jo " my name was called and off I proceeded into his office, as I sat there I tried to focus on his words, "fluid restrictions", another "Medication" to try, 

 "Not sufficient leakage to warrant the risk of surgery"

There it was, those three words "not sufficient leakage", my hopes of a magic pill dashed in 3 words. 

I felt the tears welling up as I sat there, listening to him explaining that my heart was still weak but not enough to warrant all my symptoms, neither he thought was Fibromyalgia, so he was going to chat to colleagues see which was the best specialist to see.

 A ray of light at the end of the tunnel, but all I could silently cry was, your not going to help me are you? ? ., I need you to help me.

As I thanked him and walked toward my friend the tears started to flow, 

I just couldn't believe how empty, devastated I felt over what the whole of society would think was good news, 

I felt like now no one would believe me, where was I supposed to go from here my last grip on hope gone.

I am very lucky for my friend really gets it for a Muggle ( healthy one) and the bits she doesn't she tries too.

And the last things I thought was OMG I wasted spoons putting on mascara and curling my hair for my Disney appointment!!! Devastated!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway the days have gone by and like any newly diagnosed I once again scrolled through the Internet looking for a life raft to cling on to , still battling with myself for wanting what I thought were terrible things to happen,

 I also in my dispar  wondered if i did find a magic pill what would happen then?,  

Would I know how to live as a Muggle anymore ????

Walking down the street on my way to the shop, which I had procrastinated about for hours, like we the chronically sick do, as it takes so many spoons just to get ready 

If you are not familiar with why we, the chronically sick have an obsession about spoons, then you must read ..

http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/…/writt…/the-spoon-theory/

I started to remember  a convo I had with my Muggle friend about their experience with cancer, and how they felt going through the tests and having to wait, 

Then I got to thinking about how muggles feel when they receive bad news and that their reactions and thoughts must be

Almost a mirror image of mine a parallel universe.

 ( sorry SiFi geek) except their good news was your bad news, vi ca versa .

Lost, confused, scared not knowing what going to happen, only they get an end result good or bad, 

As for this side of the mirror we hang in constant limbo with no ending.

Anger , denial, sadness, loss, acceptance both felt in each world.

So now I don't feel so bad, my feelings are not wrong.

 I have no disorder. 

I just live on the opposite side of the mirror

 In the parallel  universe.

The Lighthouse Keeper

I was watching one of my favourite films today Half Light with Demi Moor, 

It`s a romantic thriller set around a light house. I wont tell you much more because you really have to watch it if you haven't already.

Well it got me thinking about

 

1) how romantic a the Welsh coast looked and the village where it is set.

2) I would really like to holiday there. 

and ..

 

3) How nice it would be to be able to walk to the very top of a lighthouse, look at the view, with a gorgeous man by my side....... without collapsing and having the paramedics come and rescue me half way up the bloody lighthouse!!!. 

They would have to rename the film to Half Dead!!!!

Anyway I also thought about how isolated it must be on the lighthouse, and how the lighthouse keepers must have felt, watching out to sea all day, all alone, only getting to see people when they did their weekly shops, 

 In-fact exactly how I feel, well almost, just no sea or rocks or ships...  well not right outside my window anyway, yep that would be far more interesting.

We the chronically sick feel like we are looking from the outside in most of our lives, we watch the world go by through windows, the Internet or from the sidelines of parties, like wall flowers, because we came, but have no energy to actually party.

It is so hard feeling like life is passing you by, hearing of how our friends are doing this and that and saying "ah you should have come it was ace"..... yep and you reminding me I didn't is ACE too.

My hubby makes lots of jokes about me and my "comfy chair " like on a trip to the beach he said ,

" Ah best be getting back, you`ll be missing your chair" 

or when I mentioned how nice it would be to live in the house that looked onto the beach.

" Yes then all you would need to do is wheel your chair down to the sea and sit with your laptop"

Now I know he was joking, but behind the joke I feel there is a tiny bit of feeling that I sit in my chair all day every day ( which I don't, only on bad days, which, OK out way the good ATM ) on purpose.

I got to thinking, I suppose my comfy chair is my lighthouse.

 I look through the window most days, watch the passing dogs taking their owners for walks, the mail person nearly knock said owner over on their motorbike.

I watch the birds come and go to the bird bath, which I monitor on a daily basis, like a good lighthouse keeper checking his ... what ever he checks.

Then once maybe twice, I jump in my boat, well the bus, and go to the town to do a food shop.

Now this for me the chronically sick one, is where I may socialise for the time, perhaps a coffee with a friend, a quick conversation with the shopkeeper. 

Then i jump back in my boat ... yes we have already established its a bus... use your imagination.

 When I jump out of the boat, the tide is in and I have to climb the rocks back to my light house.

Nooo, I`m not crazy because when I carry shopping and try to walk it feels just like trying to walk against a current of water up to my waist, and the hill ( OK slope) up to my house .may well be the rocky mountains of rocky mountain places up to my lighthouse.

Recently however I did purchase a shopping trolley, which breaks my heart, as in my mind only old people use them. 

It is now hidden in the back cupboard in the unused room so my hubby doesn't find it, an either laugh or think  I`m.........

However dragging that thing up my hill..feels like I`m dragging the freaking bus.. Er i mean boat. no, no, NOOOO

Once back I sit in my chair just like .....

So when my hubby comes home and says as he always does

" how have you been today?"

I will reply 

                  " I have been a lighthouse keeper"

SO WHERE ARE THE COMFY CHAIRS???

OK I wasn't going to write another post quite so soon, leave it a week or so, so I don't burn out too quickly.
Because my life as you may have gathered, involves  me sat on my comfy chair in my living room.
Soooo not too much to write about unless you would like to know how many birds visited the bird bath today, or of how me and my toy Labrador had a disagreement over who finished off the pack of cookies..  I say it was him .. and I'm sticking to it!

By the way my toy dog is my hubby`s idea of a joke because I have bothered him months for a dog, Not funny!!!, in fact remember if you will an episode of sex and the city, where Tray bought Charlotte a cardboard  cut out baby?? yep get the idea?

Anyway back on topic I felt a sudden urge to tell you all about my day. whilst it was fresh in my mind and I was still passionate.
To be honest I really want a whinge to people who may understand.

Yesterday I went to a ...

Pain management introduction session 

"Wow and YEAY" I  heard myself cry, when I finally after weeks of being on a list received The letter. 

 The letter said this is an mandatory introduction to the pain management clinic and not a one to one session.
My wow and yeay has now gone to "huh? oh no" visions of myself sat in between a circle of people saying
  " Hi my name is Jo and I'm in pain". Not good.

After much debate and thinking I came to the conclusion that if I would like to see if there is any alternative medications that didn't ..

1) Make me retain weight ( and i have already told you its the toy Labrador that eat the cookies )
2) Make me constipated, to the point where I disappear at a dinner party for an hour crying in the toilet because I cant poo.
OR
3) It actually takes away the pain.

I would need to go to the meeting.

On the morning I was going I could finally take my 7 day ECG monitor off relief, until my hubby says

" I think you should keep it on for the meeting, as if its to weed out any drug seekers at least you look genuine, plus you have a solid reason you need to bugger off early... your a suicide bomber hahaha"

Thinks he is so funny!!
But annoying enough he may have had a good idea, so off I go itching and wriggling.

Ok I may have gone with a little negativity, but hopefully with an open mind and the thought maybe it won`t be too bad.

I walk into the building follow the signs to a room with a lady at a table in the entrance, she told the waiting queue to find their name and sign in. She then gave me a name badge ...... alarm bells..

I look into the room Phew no chairs in a circle, good sign, however the projection screens and booklets hmm a little worrying as too how long we were to be here ..
" 2 hours!!!!" I heard the man a few people in front of me shout.... my heart sinks.

So I take my seat among the mass of walking sticks and zipper frames, on a seat that was very small, very hard and too my mind not what people in pain should be made to sit on for 2 hours.

No I am sorry, Some of you out there may have even been to a session like this and really enjoyed it.

But for the love of god....... who in their right mind would make people IN PAIN sit on a hard little chair for TWO HOURS to listen to doctors talk about pain??????

Rant over ...

Still I sat with the thought , this will be worth it, this will be worth it.... Then came the words

"This is only an introduction, after which you will be placed on a weight list for 2 - 18mths"

At this point being a suicide bomber really appealed to me!!

We sat and listened to Dr Hayes talk quite a lot about why we get pain, different types of pain and what the difference between  different pains were.
In fact all we could ever want to know about pain. whilst, wriggling and fidgeting about IN PAIN. 

By this point they had realised that people where looking a little distracted and fidgeting, (cant think why), So much so the rather strong for her size lady in front, swung her arm back and promptly smacked me on the head. (I was trying to txt on my phone discreetly caught out )

So we are told we could walk about for a few minutes. At which point I promptly head off in search of coffee, thinking of a table of refreshments they may have laid on...

Nope, refreshment consisted of a glass of water the lady begrudgingly fetched from the staff room for me, as the tea and coffee vending machine had broken down.....

DEAR GOD!!!!

When we went back inside they talked about different drugs .. (er I mean medications), now even the old guy in the corner who had been asleep for an hour woke up at this point,

The audience did I must say get a bit rowdy at this point, in fact I swear I heard the rant of
" give us our drugs, give us our drugs now"
Although this could have been just me in my head,

She, the Dr talked about how perhaps the weaning off of the stronger meds such as morphine may be beneficial, and replace them by other technique's. which had also been mentioned earlier when talking about relaxation, and positive visualisation., yoga and mediation.

" So if I come off my morphine where do I go from there?"

shouted a large tattooed man from the back

" Meditation, and yoga" says the Dr but we will discuss options when you get an appointment.

I have two things to say ...

1)  They have made this poor man listen to Them for two hours only to tell him they can't tell him anything untill he gets an appointment

and

2) I'm not a judgemental person or one to stereotype people but who could imagine a large man clearly involved in a biker group meditating his way through yoga to relive his freaking pain!!!!!

So home and rested,  I await the honoured appointment.

Still in pain,but at least I have a coffee and sat on a god damn COMFY CHAIR !!!!!

SO HAVE I PASSED ???

All throughout life we have taken or sat tests.. spelling tests, exams, practical exams, driving tests and probably many more.

We patiently wait for the results of these tests to hear whether we have passed or failed, what grade achieved and where we go from here.

When it comes to test of the medical kind, we have waited patiently for a yes or no.. Yes you're pregnant, no you don't need glasses and even yes you have cancer.

We are programed to expect results either positive or negative to any test we take. ...

So what happens if there is no conclusive yes no, pass or fail answer??

More often or not, this for us, the chronically sick, is a reality, we may not get conclusive answers,instead we get responses like ..

"Well its not showing this" or "Its showing this and er well we are not really sure" and "Although we know its not this we still actually don't know what it is, but hey we will do another test"

Even if we get a definite answer we don't then get the actions that usually proceed a medical fail, such as...

" Ok you have .... so we will do this,and this and then you will be fine" instead we have responses such as ...

" Ok hmm take this pill and this pill, but we don't know if they will work, if not er not sure, how about a pain clinic?"

Sound familiar?  

 Still we endure them and they range from the uncomfortable to the downright painful to the embarrassing.

Here's a few I've endured, I'm sure you have many more.

The blood test

Now depending on how experienced your nurse or the doctor is depends on the experience you have, and if you're anything like me it counts! 

Iv had nurses that have been fantastic I couldn't feel a thing bliss. 

Then I have had the handfisted clumsy oaf who forgets there is an actual person attached to that arm. 

One doctor in the ER got that flustered after the third attempt at putting a cannula in that I could have actually felt sorry for him, if it wasn't for the fact there was not blood all on the floor and running out of my arm!!.

The ECG

This test involves them placing stickers over your chest and sometimes back and legs, They then attach wires to the little metal poppers on the sticker so they can read the electrical pulses of your heart. 

This may take a few minutes laying flat, or 24-48hrs or 7 days where as you carry the recorder device around with you. 

I have had all of them over the course of a lifetime and most recently over the course of two years as like now... 

Now I am walking around like a Cyber Man with wires everywhere, and I`m going to be like this for another 5 days arrg. 

I have tried covering them up with scarves, but in a 32 degree temperature I either die from heat exhaustion or I`m stared at even more for being the only person in the country wearing a god damn scarf!

Then there`s the itching after a while the sticky tabs start to itch, itch so much I'm sat on the bus either scratching my self in various places like a flee bitten dog, or I'm trying to ignore it and end up wriggling like I need a wee.

 Now the upset and paranoia has set in, lets face it who wants to be laid in bed next to a Cyborg, 

 ...I'm thinking my husband is going to be repelled. 

This is not helped by the fact i heard ..

"Hmm I'm not going to cuddle you I may yank a wire out by accident"

So I lay in bed, again in 32 degree heat, with a bloody t shirt on!

Talking about feeling my husband will be repelled.. 

The few minute ECG ..

I had been taken to the ER on day, as usual first thing they do with me bloods and ECG. So the nurse says take your bra and top off and lay on bed, hubby is stood in corner, usually he is not in with me. 

So there I lay, and if you're anything like me, boobs go to the side, well mine practically disappear under my armpits!

 I do not allow my hubby to see this at home, its either bra on or laid with arms positioned to avoid the bad boob look ... come on ladies you know what I'm talking about!

Anyhow here's the worst bit the nurse actually lifted up my boob to place a wire underneath..

I was MORTIFIED !!!

These are only a couple of examples there are also the..... 

MRI tests ... 

Where Iv found myself in a tube realising I need a wee and I'm actually claustrophobic!

Echocardogram test...., 

Which is basically a ultra sound but combined with Fibromyalgia not good as the probe instead of gently gliding over my ribs feels like a brick smashing them. Again this depends on how hand fisted the sonographer is... 

And yet again we encounter the bad boob look!!! ..

THE HEART CATHETER test.... 

Which involved placing a thin tube up my groin into my heart and camera through that.

This is where I found myself naked from belly button down, trying to explain to a lovely male student nurse holding a razor up,... 

Than I had indeed given myself a Brazilian, and didn't require his assistance...

This took some time!

 I suppose some good results have come out of my tests iv been able to share with you a few stories, share some of my experiences and hopefully you have had a little giggle in which case my tests came back ...

Positive :-) 

 You can also follow me at ..

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Chronic-illness-support/290993151091842

MEDICAL MUGGLES THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE CUTE

From being a very young age we are taught to respect our elders, respect our teachers respect authority and most of all to respect the medical profession. The doctors/consultants/surgeons  "quite literally we put our lives in their hands" as my mum would like to say. The ones with all the answers to heal and mend us, but what if..         

THEY DON'T HAVE A CLUE???

Every appointment I go in wide eyed and enthusiastic, hopeful that this time they will have the answers "the magic pill". Every time I come away let down and disappointed vowing I will never see that doctor again! Which of course I do, or I swap to another and go through the same roller coaster of emotions again and again. 

Even worse if I swap as with every new doctor comes the look of horror when I list my conditions. 

 Its not just hope and disappointment that we can feel when dealing with the medical muggles ( The not chronically sick ) its fear and doubt, fear that they won't believe us, fear that they will think we are exaggerating our symptoms or drug seeking. 
I even find myself praying that the they find something bad in my blood results, or in one of the many other tests I have to endure. In fact sometimes I think  "OMG  I have that Munchausen syndrome thing"

So much to this I find myself worrying when on a " good " day when I can walk a little faster than a snail, what if Dr Disney ( my consultant, and yes he is really called Disney) is driving past and sees me and thinks oh she is ok, she is walking fine, nothing wrong with her!

Now you may think this is a very odd thing to think, but only in Australia would this happen. Well infact it did, well as close to...

On a rare day I had arranged to meet a friend in a coffee shop near my home, I had seen a lady with two dogs on the field opposite playing a little too close to the road for my liking. So on seeing my friend sat at a table, I walked in telling her the story, not too loud but its a very small shop. I walked back two steps to the counter and I heard  "hello"  which I completely ignored as it would not be me, I don't know anyone.

( a brief explanation , I am from the UK and live in Australia )

Anyhow again I heard "hello" I turn round to see OMG Dr Disney. I then promptly turn bright red and waffle nonsense and find myself giving a not needed explanation as to why I was in the coffee shop like a guilty pupil being caught out by her teacher Arrrrg.

The other emotions we may come across whilst dealing with the medical muggles are emotional attachments or...

 THE DR CRUSH!!!!

To my mind sometimes when we the chronically sick see more of our doctors or specialists than we do some of our own family and under such emotionally charged reasons. it is understandable we may form emotional attachments to the medical muggles. After all they see us at our worst, most vulnerable and may sometimes have mopped our tears. Again it is understandable that we feel that they see us more than a medical number they see US. 
Now I don't mean this in any sexual context whats so ever. What I mean is we think they perhaps are our friend or confidant.
One example of this.. I swapped Dr`s for locality reasons, and I actually felt guilt and worry that I had upset him almost like I was cheating by seeing another. In reality he would have not noticed or bothered in the slightest as I was Just on patient in probably hundreds walking through his door!

What happens if your Dr is younger than your granny / grandad, has their own hair and is quite frankly a little bit cute???

Here comes the CRUSH. Still not a bad thing in my mind, I mean what's wrong with a little eye candy, little bit of the old butterflies when you have to go and face sometimes nasty procedures? NOTHING!
As long as you see it for what it is a little crush to see you through the horrible bits and nothing more then fill your boots you deserve it you go through enough
My crush is yep you probably guessed it ..

DR DISNEY

I let myself indulge in this crush as I feel its my minds way of helping me deal with what i'm going through, and besides I know he is too young for me, is happily married and sees me as nothing more than a medical number .... Oh yeah and I love my husband lol
It did also help me through a particularly difficult procedure, a camera was to be passed through a tube to my heart via my groin. To help get me through was coffee chats with my muggle girlfriend deciding what Disney character shave my lady garden into!!! 

So my dear chronically fabulous  and muggles thats just a little walk along my path of medical discovery. Sure I have more tales to tell and thoughts to voice but for now ..

lots of gentle hugs 

chronically Jo

p.s you can also catch me at ..

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Chronic-illness-support/290993151091842
http://www.pinterest.com/chronic-illness-support/