This week I’ve made inroads towards cleaning out my metaphorical closet. By which I mean that I have deactivated Facebook, AKA the thief of time. I have decided not to contact anyone who never contacts me unless I instigate the communication. If they’re thinking of me, then they’ll be in touch. If they don’t get in touch, then I know where I stand. This has made me rather sad but I think it’s for the best.
I’ve had a return visit to the GP. I couldn’t remember the name of the one I saw last time (turns out she was called Dr Brew believe it or not!) You’d think I’d remember that FFS!
Saw a different dude who was more than happy to give me another note up until the end of April. He also gave me some tablets which may help to take the edge off during our flights to America at the weekend. A bit of Florida sun and stalking some Disney princesses might be just the job.
I psyched myself up to take my sicknote into work myself today rather than have my friend take it in. I wanted to know I could get through the door without throwing up or having a panic attack.
Meanwhile, at the weekend we go to the U S A. Naturally I am more worried about not being let in on some Visa technicality by Donald Trump’s rigorous new travel laws. Or being shot in a drive-by or a carjacking. Or suffering a calamitous rollercoaster ride at one of the dozen or so theme parks. Or being eaten by an alligator, or worse still, one of my kids getting eaten.
These things are scaring me more than the more likely scenarios that our house will be burgled while we are away because I have now let the world know that we will be away. Or that the degus and the hamster will die or the cats will die at the cattery.
Maybe I should take
all some of those tablets the doc prescribed.
I think my transition into dementia may be a very smooth and seamless decline.