Time For a Bit of Reflection

I have my weekly pdoc appointment tomorrow. Recently, I haven't been writing all that much about how I have been going. Tonight then, I guess I should sit back for a bit and reflect on this past week.

So how have things been this week really? The first word that comes to mind is busy, primarily due to the visit from Hubby's mate from Victoria. From Wednesday through to Saturday, Hubby, visitor and I just didn't stop. It was certainly different to keep busy for those few days seeing the sights of our local region. I enjoyed (?) the opportunity to take numerous photos of our travels.

During the visit however, I found my mood to be quite changeable. To call a spade a spade, I was actually quite a moody bitch during this time. I was easily irritated (see "It Had to Happen ... Husband Rant" for clues). To be fair though, when I am feeling worn out I am quick to feel annoyed and generally bitch and moan. It's something that I am acutely aware of, so I do try to keep things in check with varying degrees of success.

Since the end of Hubby's mate's visit, I almost feel like I have been recuperating from all the rushing around. I've kept things very quiet. I've done little housework (Hubby's been on night shift anyway). Come to think of it, I haven't even left the house. This has suited me just fine.

One thing that I have neglected to mention here since it happened, was a phone call from my family on Sunday night. My step-mother, bless her, is really at me to look after my health a little more. For countless months I have been smoking like a chimney and it definitely shows. I have also put on a bucket load of weight. These two things combined mean I am breathing like a 90 year old with emphysema. It's something that hasn't really bothered me to date, and when I sit back and think about it now as I am typing, it still doesn't bother me. Hey, I know that this sounds stupid, but I have had a death wish for so long that it is just how my brain works these days no matter how good I am feeling within myself. Probably the cheeriest slant I can give to this situation is that I wish I was a little fitter. Not because I want to live forever (I want to live the shortest time possible), but because for the time I have left to live, it would be nice to be able to not struggle to breathe so much when I, for instance, have to go for a walk to a lookout or something.

Anyway, I could go on forever but I am conscious of the time because I want to get to bed really early tonight. I guess the point of this post is that my current mixture of meds is still working to satisfaction. I'm feeling fine. I'm feeling pretty much myself. However, I don't love life by any stretch of the imagination. If someone put a gun to my head tomorrow I'm not sure if I would plead for my life, say, "Go ahead, pull the trigger ... I don't care," or just stand there with a look of confusion on my face.