{"id":8448,"date":"2023-03-13T18:02:30","date_gmt":"2023-03-13T18:02:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sebpalmer.com\/blog\/?p=8448"},"modified":"2023-03-14T07:00:13","modified_gmt":"2023-03-14T07:00:13","slug":"health-wellbeing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.sebpalmer.com\/blog\/?p=8448","title":{"rendered":"HEALTH & WELLBEiNG:"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Ok, so I\u2019ve spent all of today in bed<\/em>.* In this day and age that\u2019s like telling a C19th Mother Superior at the Convent you\u2019ve just spent all day sucking Satan\u2019s cock!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*so far\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Not this one\u2026<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

My feelings on this must in part explain my out of character subscription (lapsed; now that\u2019s in<\/em> character!) to The Idler<\/em>. A magazine whose title is more exciting than most of its content. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Nor this \u2018un\u2026<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"
\u2026 butt this\u2019n.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, I did<\/em> actually do a few hours of horrid gruelling work. AKA trying to talk to people in the NHS system. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now let me get this straight; I love<\/em> the NHS. The fact it\u2019s become a graveyard of impenetrable obsidian obelisks is entirely the fault of money-minded capitalists, be they Tory or even, alas, New Labour. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Off on one of my tanned-genitals, eh? Cannae be helped, Emma Freud. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But back on track: I estimate 3-4 hours of today was given over to fall-out from a letter, sent by the \u2018proto-shrink\u2019 (Clinical Nurse Specialist), who saw me in A&E at Peterborough hospital, on Monday. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rather naively, as appears to be my way so often, I thought I was there for my own care. Reading the summary letter made me feel it was actually a Stasi fact-gathering exercise. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Depression can lead to paranoia. I know that. And maybe in part this is a case in point. But points are precisely my, er, point\u2026 here. And the notes the lady took during my venting confessional, which I\u2019d imagined to be completely confidential, feel instead like exhibits A-Z of the prosecution!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What galls me most are two particular instances of miscommunication. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once during the conversation she – Danielle Jenkins – \u2018reiterated\u2019 a point she thought I\u2019d made, taking the polar opposite position to what I\u2019d actually said. I corrected her \u2018I thought you said\u2026 [the exact opposite of what I said!]\u2019 statement during the interview. This is not<\/em> mentioned in her summary. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Whilst by and large it\u2019s a fairly complete rendering of the meeting, in which most of the mistakes (or just lack of clarity) are reasonably inconsequential, there is one particularly egregious error.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And so it is that she lists another<\/em> thing she thinks<\/em> I said, which once again is the absolute polar opposite<\/em> of what I actually<\/em> said. Once would be simply annoying. Twice points to crossed wires, Major Misunderstanding, etc. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
How I love Viz!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

All of this leads me to conclude that I need to record such verbal transactions for my own records, and later \u2018proof\u2019 of what really transpired, if needed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At this point I feel drawn towards another apparent (it\u2019s actually very connected) deviation. There have been times – not at the moment thankfully – when \u2018conversations\u2019 with my father have actually really just found me listening to an open-valved high-pressure torrent of depressive effluence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad thinks, or thought at the time (at least so he would profess) that we\u2019d had a conversation. I sometimes got to the end of my tether, and would draw his attention to this. Only to be told my recall was obviously faulty. This has been a theme over my whole life. Differing recollections in which mine is always de facto <\/em>wrong. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This has not been helpful to the development of trust, in either myself or others. Nor indeed, in plain ol\u2019 mental fortitude. When doubting your own mind is drummed into you over a lifetime. It has a debilitating effect. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, I\u2019m absolutely adamant that in times past I\u2019ve sat through very depressing monologues from a very depressed dad, in in almost complete silence. Sonny hbsinged occasionally notice, and ask if I was still there! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And, rather tragically, I now sometimes find myself playing out similar routines, in certain scenarios, such as this recent interview at A&E. As much as I love and admire my father, there are also less appealing sides to him – we\u2019re all only human, after all – which I don\u2019t wish to copy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

POSTSCRIPT <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, I ran out of steam on this post. Much earlier in the day. It\u2019s now much<\/em> later. I did get up, numerous times, to do stuff; go to the loo, eat\/drink, etc. The real basics! But in essence today was a day of bed-bound R&R, rest and recuperation. And boy have I needed it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

After two very good nights sleep at my sister\u2019s (the second un-planned, at her suggestion), I wound up using a single zopiclone<\/em> tablet last night, as prescribed by Dr Joyce, earlier in the week. I was only prescribed the one, on account of the danger of my \u2018misusing\u2019 them, if I had more!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fortunately my mood has lifted considerably over the day. And esp\u2019 so since my darling wife came home, and both ministered to me, and gave me a kick right square up in my ass! She insisted I complete several minor chores before I could have dinner. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Kojak sings his signature hit into a very small edible microphone.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I doubt I\u2019d be here now, if it weren\u2019t for Teresa. Thank you, sweet-heart, for standing by me and being a rock, and a source of consolation and common sense. Who loves ya, baby! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Telly, on\u2019t Telly, like.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Ok, so I\u2019ve spent all of today in bed.* In this day and age that\u2019s like telling a C19th Mother Superior at the Convent you\u2019ve just spent all day sucking Satan\u2019s cock! *so far\u2026 My feelings on this must in part explain my out of character subscription (lapsed; now that\u2019s in character!) to The Idler. … <\/p>\n

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