The hardest thing about skating is the ice

Heyy, 

Alas stepping onto the scales last week, a mere pound away from losing my first stone and 1.5lbs from seeing a new stone-zone I was silently disappointed. Can hardly remember the last time I was in the 17-Stone range?! Nevertheless, I had a good week, eating out three times and snacking most of Saturday night so can hardly be surprised. Unfortunately, the Saturday to follow was all about sore heads, and not the good kind!

My Nephew, or should I say, future Nephew (at least for the next few months) had a big birthday this weekend and as the birthday boy wanted to do Ice Skating, Mr Warehouse and I joined his brother and his young family and a few friends on the ice at our local ice hockey stadium to shred it in our blades. 

Now when the kids asked me if I had skated before, I didn't exactly lie to them, maybe just bent the truth. Honestly, I had only been skating a handful of times, and I mean a handful. I think the last time was with Mr Workaholic and his family in Hemel Hempstead, and even then I needed one of those kiddie penguin things. Nevertheless, I was older now, more mature and Dancing on Ice was a thing. So whilst I acknowledged I would not be doing a Disney On Ice recreation of pirouette's and jumps, I was hoping I may be able to do without Percy Penguin this time. 

Donning my skates, I was anxious as I watched on as each person carefully stepped onto the slippery ice. one by one they all skated off, gliding over the frozen water like fucking pro's. I was envious, to say the least as I knew, stepping out and sliding along a little I was not going to be as graceful. In fact, it took only a few tugs along the side of the rink before I lost my balance. Down I went. The only problem being is that despite my weight loss so far, all of me came crashing down. The first thing to make contact? My head. With the corner of the rink itself. Smacking my head heavy off the corner of the entrance I was dazed a little but knew I had to get up, for fear of embarrassment if nothing else. 

Suffice to say, Mr Warehouse was pissing himself, literally nearly dying from lack of oxygen due to laughing so hard. But, with my British stiff upper lip I (attempted) to keep calm and carry on. Slowly but surely my aching legs and arms pulled me around the rink, three times in fact, although not without my fair share of slipping, sliding and splitting (literally doing the splits like an X-Rated version of fecking Bambi). Yes, I fell over, but so did others, although I don't think that they were approached by two very concerned 14-year-olds asking if I needed help getting up like some geriatric old fart. After falling over several times and being overtaken by several children younger than myself I found a polar bear (not a real one) and continued to go round a couple more times with him aiding and supporting me. I had no shame. None whatsoever. I was Darcey Bussell. No-one could stop me. Apart from the ice. The ice stopped me a few times. 
"I thought these things were meant to stabilise you and stop you from slipping over?!" I exclaimed in my head as I headed towards Mr Warehouse and Co. on the other side of the Ice Rink. Needing a rest I stopped for a little, more so to give my leggies a rest more than anything. It's hard to relax any sort of leg muscle when your feet are strapped in tighter than a fat man on a rollercoaster and your only contact with the ground was a thin shiny metal blade. 

Sitting down, exhausted, Mr Warehouse made a comment about how I didn't look well. Truthfully I didn't feel well. I felt sick. Like as if I was going to vomit. My skin felt weird, like that kind of flu-ey skin you get when you are ill. I couldn't concentrate, my eyes desperately trying to focus on anything. Something wasn't right. 
"How hard did you hit your head?" Mr Warehouse said jokingly as he went to reach up to my head. And there it was searing hot pain spread across my skull. OWWW! Mr Warehouse face changed as it went from jovial fun on the ice to a serious and scared fiance. Reaching up to feel my head I could see why he was concerned. A huge lump had arisen. At the size of an orange, I knew that I had done some damage. I began getting irritable, shaking for no reason. I felt like I had been drinking for weeks and stopped, all of a sudden on some sort of come-down. I felt weird. This was weird. This wasn't right and I am not OK. 

I decided that as much as I wanted to I couldn't risk going back out on the ice, plus some little fuck had stolen my polar bear so probably for the best. I took off my skates as did everyone else and headed back to the car, a dull ache starting to set in. Everything hurt. Every step I took was going straight to my inflamed head. After a quiet car journey and a stop off at some shops for a drink and some painkillers, we headed (excuse the pun) back to my future In-Laws for cake and presents. I really could have done with going to Accident and Emergency but I didn't want to worry anyone or spoil my Nephew's birthday. 

After an hour or so I obviously wasn't looking right so Mr Warehouse made our excuses and left. After a little telly, I hit the pillow for an early night and struggled to wake the next morning, still with sore head and body littered with bruises. I was aching and I was tired but with a risk of concussion, Mr Warehouse refused to let me sleep any longer and instead we headed out to meet my Dad and his wife for tea and cake. That afternoon though I got my wish as I lazed on the couch most the afternoon snoozing in between pokes from my fiance just to make sure I was alive still. Even the weekly traditional roast dinner didn't sort me out and still even today at my desk colleagues referred to me as looking peaky and "not well". I spoke to HR who advised to go home, to which I replied that if I was paid to be off with sickness then I would, but I have a mortgage and can't afford time off. 

As I looked online at the NHS Website and their advice on Minor Head Injuries and Concussion, I knew that things are not good when on day two you still have symptoms. Now to be fair, it does state that if you have been knocked out but have now woken up, been vomiting or have been drinking alcohol then I should go to Accident and Emergency, but I haven't so it's OK right? The Website continues to states that it's normal to have symptoms such as a slight headache, feeling nauseous or dazed and these can last anywhere up to 2 weeks. 

NHS guidelines go on to say that to bring down any swelling holding an ice pack (or a bag of frozen peas in a tea towel) to the injury regularly for short periods in the first few days is helpful. Resting up and avoid stress is also advisable and to take paracetamol or ibuprofen to relieve pain or a headache but not aspirin as it could cause the injury to bleed. And whilst I have been at work today, it is probably not a good thing as further advise states that patients suffering from minor head injuries should not go back to work or school until feeling better and should not drive until fully recovered. 

At the moment I still feel sick and having to concentrate today at work was hard. The screens didn't help and where I was normally focused and on the ball I simply couldn't take it in, sometimes taking several attempts to read the simplest of sentences, not good for a busy and fast-paced environment. I will have to wait and see how I feel tomorrow, but if I am not getting paid then I won't have much choice, concussion or not. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Friends Are Medicine for the Soul!

Hello everyone, 

Following last weeks rather abrupt and a matter of fact way of saying that I am now accepted that maybe medication for my depression is just what I need right now, I am glad to say that I have probably had one of the best weeks so far in my treatment. The funny thing really is that nothing major has really happened to improved my mood apart from my medication. With this in mind, I have questioned as to whether I am suffering a placebo effect from just simply popping some pills. 

Opening last week's blog may have been quite blunt and to the point, but I must stress that I do not take decisions like these lightly and I have tried to muddle through for the weeks of cloudiness have now turned into months. I have tried not to not succumb to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues but truth be told is that I needed a fairly fast result in improving my mood and therefore my performance, both at and away from my desk. I know I need therapy and counselling, but I also need to block everything out as best i can and focus on my job as this is what matters and what holds the key to my future. This time the stakes are higher. There is so much more to lose. My job. My lifestyle. Even my dream home are all on the line. I cannot mess this up. Whilst the medication I am on make me feel quite queasy and nauseous most of the time, I just need to take the edge off and make everything a little less sharper. so I can concentrate more and focus.

With the doctor practically signing me away with them so easily last week or so, all with not so much as a confirmation of my mental state, I am glad to be feeling a little bit more back to normal. This is not to say that I can stop taking them as the effects are something that are to be built up overtime and whilst for the super long term I hope not to be on them I know I need them right now just to simply get by and block everything else out so I can focus on what I need to. Counselling has been getting better and a lengthy conversation about how I feel and how I have become to feel this way ensued this week with some ideas about how I can tackle or deal with the issues that I have at present. 

I know people are probably silently judging me or maybe they already have questioned how I can be so happy and jolly when I have depression, however I would first ask them to never judge a book by its cover as you never know what someone is going through or how deep their problems lie. Whilst most of the people around me have been wonderfully supportive I feel like somehow breaking your leg and clearly having it in plaster makes it easier for people to talk about a illness or being sick, but with disorders such as anxiety, depression and other mentally debilitating conditions it is not so easy. 

I learnt this weekend that I have some amazing people around me, in particular Miss Tweedle-Dee. Sitting in her garden, hot as hell and struggling with the ridiculous thirty-something degree heat wave we in the UK have been getting I realised I had someone very special to me. She in particular know that sometimes its not even saying anything at all its just sitting and being there to be extra company other than your own thoughts. And sometimes that is just enough. That is all you need. Someone so gentle as to pat me on the leg with a sympathetic look that tells me she knows exactly what I am going through and that it really will be OK in the end. Someone to give me a big cuddle and make everything not seem so awful. She is the best! 

Combined with the firecracker that is Miss Tweedle-Dumb I think we have an unstoppable friendship that has lasted years and will carry on through the decades and even across the pond. Obviously my heart will break when Miss and Mr Tweedle-Dumb leave for America but I know they will be alright and we can always visit, eat Twinkies (God I hate Twinkies), go shopping at Target and walk along the beaches of LA. And everything will be OK because it always is when you have friends like them. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx