Well I'm officially well enough to go to work.
My chest is still a bit noisy and I've been given another course of antibiotics to stop anything flaring up again. However my oxygen SATs are normal, back in the 90's, and I have no temperature or wheeze. I feel OK, a little tired, but I'm told that will improve after a couple of days of normal eating.
I'm now in a quandary as I'm really pleased I'm well again but I really don't want to go back to work. I've been so relaxed and felt, most of the time anyway, healthier for it that I don't want to end up as stressed as I was at the start of my holiday. Of course the only person who can stop me being stressed is me. I've just got to stop caring so much and trying to be better than my fitter colleagues in an effort to prove my worth. I know I do it but can't stop myself. I always feel as though I have to work twice as hard as everyone else to prove that my illness doesn't matter. It's a really stupid thing to do because I was ill when I applied for the job and was totally up front about how bad it could get and yet they still chose me. I feel nothing but sympathy and support from my colleagues, well most of them, so why do I always feel guilty about being ill? It's crazy, crazy, crazy! I'm just going to have to adopt a more laid back attitude, it's not as though I'm deliberately being ill to piss people off, I can't help it but if some choose to think that way then that is their problem not mine.
So back to yesterday. I ate a full meal comfortably and that sort of opened the floodgates. I downed steak, a rare treat, sweetcorn, peas, carrot and swede mash and mashed potato. I then tackled two peaches, two packets of crisps, an apple and a bag of cherries. I stopped for a couple of hours and then had two slices of toast and another peach. Around eight I was starving again and so did something I've never done before. I ordered in pizza! I had a delicious six slices of cheese, onion and tomato which disappeared in double quick time. Andrew and Peter were guarding theirs in case I started stealing. It cost a fortune but I loved every cheesy morsel and it looks as though I've managed to make up for a week of not eating in one day, bonus.
Today I am much more restrained and so far have just had the usually toast and tea for breakfast. I'm fancying a light salad for lunch and then I'm settling myself down for an afternoon of tennis. Well is is my last sick day so why not?
So next blog will be Wednesday, enjoy the tennis and COME ON MURRAY!
My chest is still a bit noisy and I've been given another course of antibiotics to stop anything flaring up again. However my oxygen SATs are normal, back in the 90's, and I have no temperature or wheeze. I feel OK, a little tired, but I'm told that will improve after a couple of days of normal eating.
I'm now in a quandary as I'm really pleased I'm well again but I really don't want to go back to work. I've been so relaxed and felt, most of the time anyway, healthier for it that I don't want to end up as stressed as I was at the start of my holiday. Of course the only person who can stop me being stressed is me. I've just got to stop caring so much and trying to be better than my fitter colleagues in an effort to prove my worth. I know I do it but can't stop myself. I always feel as though I have to work twice as hard as everyone else to prove that my illness doesn't matter. It's a really stupid thing to do because I was ill when I applied for the job and was totally up front about how bad it could get and yet they still chose me. I feel nothing but sympathy and support from my colleagues, well most of them, so why do I always feel guilty about being ill? It's crazy, crazy, crazy! I'm just going to have to adopt a more laid back attitude, it's not as though I'm deliberately being ill to piss people off, I can't help it but if some choose to think that way then that is their problem not mine.
So back to yesterday. I ate a full meal comfortably and that sort of opened the floodgates. I downed steak, a rare treat, sweetcorn, peas, carrot and swede mash and mashed potato. I then tackled two peaches, two packets of crisps, an apple and a bag of cherries. I stopped for a couple of hours and then had two slices of toast and another peach. Around eight I was starving again and so did something I've never done before. I ordered in pizza! I had a delicious six slices of cheese, onion and tomato which disappeared in double quick time. Andrew and Peter were guarding theirs in case I started stealing. It cost a fortune but I loved every cheesy morsel and it looks as though I've managed to make up for a week of not eating in one day, bonus.
Today I am much more restrained and so far have just had the usually toast and tea for breakfast. I'm fancying a light salad for lunch and then I'm settling myself down for an afternoon of tennis. Well is is my last sick day so why not?
So next blog will be Wednesday, enjoy the tennis and COME ON MURRAY!
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