Second Wave Scaremongering?

Heyy, 

Last week I wrote about the benefits of having to postpone our wedding and cramming in more holidays and living our even better lives, however, after some not-so-good news regarding a new opportunity I write in the same way I always do every week - Trying to look on the positive side of things. 

Week number thirteen and it honestly seems as though this will never end. Facemask for this. Queue for that. Cant go here and not allowed in there. It is getting boring and I am well and truly fed up with it all. Despite how tiresome I and many others are starting to or already finding lockdown and quarantine, I don't think we are near to the end as yet, especially so when figures from the BBC released today (Monday 10 August 2020) confirm that the number of new cases of coronavirus is rising and the death rate, though still in the low number in comparison to previous months, today is more than double last weeks reported nine. 

But is this scaremongering as the papers and media would have us believe or is it all comparative and respectful of one another? If you test more then you find more, ergo meaning the more that you test and trace this horrible virus, the more people will come back with having contracted it or be known to be infected, asymptomatic or not. It is a statistic that the more cases of detected COVID-19 the more deaths there will be as the Government grapple with the science and the research as we learn new things about it day by day and as the months go one we will be sure to learn even more. 

Is a second wave likely to happen? Well if the media outlets and news channels will have you believe, its definitive, and Mr Warehouse agrees. A keyworker himself, Mr Warehouse has some key insider information that makes us a little happier we postponed the wedding, although begrudging that an end is not in sight for no facemasks. BBC News confirms that whilst some countries are still dealing with large epidemics, but even those currently controlling the virus fear "the second wave" and that health experts in the UK are warning ministers to prepare for one following the decision to further ease restrictions in England from early July.

A conversation last weekend with my uncle over a much-needed coffee and break from the house we discussed this and the possibility that, much like the second phase of Spanish flu a century ago, the second wave was far deadlier than the first. 

Seeing a wave is simple - It is a prolonged period that rather than going down, cases and deaths continue to rise, hit a peak and then come down with each cycle being one "wave" of coronavirus. Yet there is no formal definition. "It's not particularly scientific: how you define a wave is arbitrary," Dr Mike Tildesley, from the University of Warwick, told the BBC News. For the scientists and virologists, the answer lies almost entirely with the decisions we make as members of the public and what our Government impose in terms of restrictions or easing thereof, so it could go either way. The potential is clearly there - the virus is still around and it is no less deadly or infectious than at the start of 2020. Only around 5% of people in the UK are thought to have been infected and there is no guarantee they are all immune.

Lifting lockdowns too soon and localised outbreaks not being dealt with in a serious and prompt manner could cause a second wave to start and ultimately if not dealt with swiftly can even help the steep rise in that wave. 

This all being said though, a news article from the express details quite the opposite, and that was released only just today. The risk of a second wave hitting the UK this winter has been quashed by a top doctor as the UK may soon have herd immunity he claims to the express. 

Official data from NHS England points to a huge drop in the number of coronavirus patients being treated in hospitals compared to during the height of the pandemic with one top doctor, Dr Ron Daniels, in Birmingham (one of the country's hardest-hit areas) noted last Thursday there were only three critically ill coronavirus patients across three hospitals which serve half of Birmingham's one million residents. "Comparing this with a couple of months ago, when we had almost 200 patients ventilated at any one given time, and this is a huge downturn," Dr Daniels says positively. 

Stating later on in the article that Britain is "almost reaching herd immunity" it is certainly some better news. And what he speaks makes sense. The pubs and restaurants and shops have been open well over a month now and as such the virus historically from records is that if you contract the virus and you’re going to end up in hospital, it is more than likely that this will happen within 15 days of contracting it initially. The drop of 96% since the peak of the UK's epidemic should ease fears of a deadly second round of the crisis details the express report, with some hospitals last week marking a huge milestone, declaring there was not a single COVID-19 patient on their wards. Hopefully, soon we can have more of that so we can all get back to fucking normal!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Uncertain Times

Heyy, 

What a different world in which I report to you this afternoon. Since last weeks frolic's in cocktail bars and fancy restaurants things have certainly not been the same. Here in the UK we have just had a public address from our Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, stating a national emergency against what can only be described as Pandemic upon unfathomable proportions. 

Several weeks ago we heard whisperings from the East regarding COVID-19 - A new illness that can affect your lungs and airways caused by a virus called Coronavirus. However, Coronavirus isn't by itself a new thing as MERS (Middle East respiratory syndrome) and SARS (severe acute respiratory syndrome) which, having killed more than 1,500 people between them since 2002 is slowly being caught up by its new cousin on the block, COVID-19. 

The source of the COVID-19 coronavirus is believed to be a food market in Wuhan, China which sold both dead and live animals including fish and birds. The risk of viruses and cross-contamination from animals to humans is more likely in places such as this because hygiene standards are difficult to maintain as well as them being typically densely packed. Whilst there is speculation that the original host is thought to be bats who may have infected live chickens or other animals sold there, the animal source of the latest outbreak has not yet been identified. That being said, Bats are host to a wide range of zoonotic viruses including Ebola, HIV and rabies, which seems unfair given how cute they are! 

Quickly spreading across China the first European country to be affected was Italy. Hitting the headlines every day with its mounting death count suddenly it went from a bit of a laugh about how someone should let Ozzy Osbourne know, to now being a little more worried that it was getting closer to our doorstep. Soon enough the UK government announced some advice, although not at all helpful considering that it is typically cold and flu season. The NHS website states that a high temperature whereby you feel hot to touch on your chest or back and a new, continuous cough (coughing a lot for more than an hour, or 3 or more coughing episodes in 24 hours). The Italians seemed OK though, they were still out partying (literally), getting their hair done and visiting restaurants and cinemas, everything was fine apart from a few small northern villages. But things got worse ... 

Early last week things started to move and move quickly. On Tuesday 17 March, moneysavingexpert.com explained easily how banks had agreed with the Chancellor that they will offer 'forbearance' (tolerance and help) on mortgages. This means they all should offer those struggling a three-month 'holiday', allowing customers a temporary break from having to make mortgage payments during this time. Something which helped when Mr Warehouse called me from the bus home explaining he was being sent home sick because he coughed when asking about sick-pay during this period of uncertainty. For us, keeping up with bills and putting food on the table was never really a challenge - until my Fiance's salary went from £300 per week to £70. 

Realistically it should help and maybe get us out of what could have been a very tight hole in the next few weeks and months. Although after spending four-and-a-half hours on hold to our mortgage company on Thursday and then a further 3-hours on Friday morning I was finally able to speak with someone. Feeling embarrassed I mumbled my way through the phone call with a lovely women who explained that there was nothing to be embarrassed by and that everyone is in the same boat and to not worry or panic. And so, for the next three months, we won't pay anything, then when our mortgage repayments resume, the total we owe would be spread over the following remain years on our term, realistically seeing a very small uplift in future payments.

Several days later, the UK Government announced a continuity of the COVID-19 Coronavirus package to help people affected by the pandemic which including a sweeping pledge to pay 80% of employees' wages if they are not working due to illness. Boris and the Chancellor said that they will make sure there are measures in place to cover 80% of the wages of 'retained' employees (Retained being those who would otherwise have been laid off due to the knock-on effects of the coronavirus pandemic). Obviously, there is a limit to the amount paid will be capped at a maximum of £2,500 per month / per employee, all to be issued through grants which can be paid out to any employer.  moneysavingexpert.com confirms that the Chancellor says the scheme will be open “before the end of April”, and wages will be paid backdated to 1 March. Hopefully, this will help many people who would have otherwise lost their jobs. 

Although it seems that these measures did not go far enough as soon enough Boris and his Pals in Parliament had announced that as of Friday 20 March, all schools will be closed, though they'll remain open for the children of 'key workers' – for example, NHS staff, police and delivery drivers – as well as the most vulnerable children. Then came the entertainment cull - Tens of thousands of pubs, bars, nightclubs, cinemas, theatres and restaurants across the UK shut their doors for the final time as after Boris Johnson imposed a nationwide lockdown from Friday evening. 

What with all the panic and pandemonium I am hardly surprised that the supermarkets and shop shelves were empty. With a huge surge in demand from shoppers, many of them unnecessarily stocking up on essentials and products such as toilet roll, hand gel and paracetamol, it was becoming increasingly hard to get in some places and find just the normal day to day items to feed your family. it quickly became out of hand, to the point of which normally I would be joining Mr and Mrs Jones in buying out 40+ bog rolls and 80 boxes of pasta shells, but I didn't, because I am not a fucking idiot. Sure enough, the stock became less and less to the point of which Mr Warehouse had become aware we had not seen a fresh loaf of bread or toilet tissue in weeks. 

Going back to basics, we thought like our grandparents would have and headed to the local markets and butchers in search of fresh fruit, veg and meat. But there was nothing. Arriving at a local butcher, calling earlier that day and being promised that shelves would be stocked, there was nothing. A pack of sodding bacon and sausages, by which point, when we came to leave, were snapped up by another desperate customer. Heading to Lidl up the road I thought we would chance our luck. Mr Warehouse and I were able to pick up a few little bits to see us through, mainly some meat for meals and that all-important pasta and bog roll. It is sad to think that as a result of peoples lack of empathy and greed that Supermarkets and shops have been forced to bring in significant restrictions. Limiting shoppers to buying a certain number of the same item, restricting opening times and in some cases stopping accepting online orders altogether. But with shops and stores like ASDA and Iceland introducing the "silver hour", a priority shopping time (usually the first hour of the day) for the elderly or vulnerable it certainly does something to restore your faith in humanity. 

The last week has been strange, to say the least, especially working from home - Now that was odd! But with a live televised statement from Downing Street from Boris Johnson stating a new strict curb on life in the UK to tackle the spread of coronavirus, things certainly look like they are going to change even more. As the UK death toll has reached 335 (as of Monday 23 March 2020) the prime minister has announced that from this evening people must stay at home except for shopping for basic necessities, once-daily exercise (as if I did any exercise anyway), any medical need and travelling to and from essential work. Announcements include that all shops selling non-essential goods such as clothing and electronics are being told to shut and gatherings in public of more than two people who do not live together are to be prohibited. And what if people do not follow the rules? The UK police will have the powers to enforce them, including fines and dispersing gatherings. Scary measures when I am less than six-months off being a Mrs ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

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

Implant not Impregnate!

Heyy, 

Sitting in the surgery doctors waiting room to say I was nervous was an understatement. I was anxiously tapping my foot on the floor as I answered questions about my sexual health. Have I ever been paid for sex? Have I ever been forced into sex? Have I ever had abusive sex? Some of the detailed questions were strange, but I suppose they have to ask them as nurses in order to safeguard, both as an arse-covering exercise and to flag up any would-be problems or concerns. And so here I was for my fourth implant exchange. 

Looking on the NHS website, Nexplanon, otherwise known as the contraceptive implant is a small flexible plastic rod that looks a little like a match stick. It is placed under the skin in your upper arm by a doctor or nurse and releases the hormone progestogen into your bloodstream to prevent pregnancy. Lasting for 3 years, it is more than 99% effective and can be useful for women who can't use contraception that contains oestrogen.

The science-y part states that the implant steadily releases the hormone progestogen into your bloodstream, which prevents the release of an egg each month AKA your period.  It also thickens the cervical mucus, which makes it more difficult for sperm to move through the cervix, and thins the lining of the womb so a fertilised egg is less likely to implant itself and cause that dreaded pregnancy! 

The NHS website also states that you can have the implant put in at any time during your menstrual cycle, as long as you're not pregnant. If the implant is fitted during the first 5 days of your menstrual cycle, you will be immediately protected against becoming pregnant, however, if it's fitted on any other day of your menstrual cycle, you'll need to use additional contraception (such as condoms) for 7 days, although if you ask the sexual health nurse or doctor they will usually provide you with as many as you need in a nice little discreet packet, almost like a goody bag or sticker like from the Dentist. 

Some of the reasons to choose the implant over other forms of contraception are that once the implant is in place, you don't have to think about it again for 3 years and is very useful for women who find it difficult to remember to take a pill at the same time every day like me. Obviously, the implant can be taken out if you have side effects which could include periods may become irregular, lighter, heavier or longer but once removed your natural fertility will return very quickly. As soon as that implant has been removed, you'll no longer be protected against pregnancy. You can also use this method until you reach the menopause when a woman's monthly periods stop naturally.

Another common side effect is what I have most of the time which is called amenorrhoea when your periods stop altogether. It's not harmful, but you may want to consider this before deciding to have an implant if unlike me you prefer Aunt Urma staying more regularly. I think this, along with the fact I am incredibly forgetful and blase about the small stuff in life, means this is perfect and I only really need to think about it when I am having it exchanged and replaced. 

I mean obviously, it goes without saying that some medicines can make the implant less effective and that it won't work or protect against sexually transmitted infections (STIs), so you may need to use condoms as well if you are not familiar with your bed-fellow. I think I found it especially useful when I was dating (although this feels like many, many moons ago now) as I was not only using condoms but also relying on my implant too as a sort of double barrier, just in case the condom split or came off. 

To have it removed as I have this evening is simple as well and mostly pain-free. Starting with a local anaesthetic to numb the area on the inside of your upper arm, the implant is then inserted under your skin (mine was after the doctor made a tiny cut in my skin and gently pulled the implant out). It only takes a few minutes to put in and feels like having an injection so you won’t be in need of any stitches afterwards. 

As I type to you all tonight I have been through this very quick and simple procedure several times over and, like me, when it's first put in you may feel some bruising, tenderness or swelling around the implant. My arm is killing me right now, mainly because the nurse took it out and nearly forgot to put me a new one back in, by which point the general anaesthetic had nearly worn off so inserting that little stick felt like pumping molten chilli sauce into my arm. But I am now protected, at least in part from Mr Warehouse's super sperm. His whole family seem to be able to procreate at a somewhat incredible level I don't think I have ever encountered before. 

Don't get me wrong, as the day approached and even this afternoon as I thought more and more about it I know that this will be the last time I will have it going in as I will not be finishing the full term until September 2022. If Mr Warehouse had it his way we would have had children back when we met, aged twenty-two and me at twenty-three. I, however, prefer the more planned and thought out route, choosing to get life to a more stable place, with a house and well-formed relationship to steady the unpredictability of a child. And to think that the next time I lay down on that bed, fist punching the air will be when I have made the decision to breed and make more little me's!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

An Amicus Curiae

Hello, 

Sat waiting for my appointment at the doctors Saturday morning I was I was anxious to say the least about what the doctor's and medical professionals would say. After my most recent appointment with them they had advised to continue my medication whilst I awaited an appointment where I can be seen through the NHS for counselling but this seems to be harder than you would have initially thought. 

After a few counselling sessions earlier on in my treatment process, I was unable to continue with them due to the high cost of the sessions themselves. They certainly helped but at £70.00 for an hour long session it was certainly not something I could afford right now or keep up, although that being said I was and still am eternally grateful for the help received. During those early therapy sessions, I finally opened up to the realisation that maybe medication is just what I needed at that point and with that I went to the doctors in order to get a quick fix. 

I'm sad and almost ashamed to admit that my work was suffering  and with a House move in the works I couldn't loose this job. As my social life dwindled also because of everything that was going on, I had, stupidly really, tried for the last few months (because the weeks of cloudiness beforehand had now turned into months) to not succumb to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues. Truth be told is that I needed a fairly instant result in improving my mood and therefore my performance, both at and away from my desk. The tablets used to make me feel quite queasy and nauseous most of the time but I knew they were good for me and what I needed would come soon. I needed, still do really, therapy and counselling and I need to talk about it, not medicate it away.

I have spoken before about how I was shocked that the doctor handed them out so easily, asking me very little questions about what is going on in my life to make me feel like this and how I am feeling. Unlike before there were no silly questionnaire about how depressed I am or the likeliness that I might top myself on a scale of one to ten.Every other time I have been to the doctors (not that there have been many, gosh makes me sound like a right nut case, but there have been a few occasions) there has always been a lengthy conversation about how I feel and how I have become to feel this way. Strangely I feel as though there should have been at least a little bit more push and pull. Then again maybe it was obvious and looking at my medical history it seemed the best thing for me. Initially when I went to the doctors in May of this year I was told that I will be placed on a waiting list for free counselling through the NHS and was told it would be roughly a three-month time slot from when I was referred. 

Obviously I continued with my therapy sessions and when they came to an end I went back to the doctor in order to have a check-up generally on the medication that I was on and it just so happened that it was coming up close to the three-month mark in July. I was told that it would probably be better if I went to speak to the Bedfordshire Well-Being team which were based outside of the doctors surgery and whilst part of the NHS were a different entity that could help. It was here that I learnt that it can be anywhere between eighteen-months and two-years. Certainly not the three-month time slot I was given when I first started back in April / May. 

After a meeting with a lady at the Bedfordshire Well-Being team, it was suggested by several mental health practitioners that I undertake what I thought was going to be a group therapy counselling session lasting 5 weeks. I thought that we all walk into the room sit down in a circle and say "Hi, my name is blah blah blah and I have a problem with abandonment issues particularly to do with my parents". Unfortunately this was far from the case and in actual fact it was a rather patronising lesson in what depression is and how it will make you feel. 
"No surprised that I have found it completely unhelpful as I am here because I have relapsed" I thought during my first two sessions. I am already my own well-being expert. I know the issues I have and ways I can slip back under the darkness. I already know how it feels to be depressed and I know what I need to do in order to get out. As narcissistic as it sounds I know what I am on about as I am already, at the grand old age of nearly 27, an expert of my own mental health issues.  

It was at this point that I spoke with the doctor and she confirmed that it would not be wise to stop medication and advised that in most circumstances medication is taken for a minimum of six-months, however with everything still quite unstable in my life in terms of my housing situation as well as my issues with family members, by the time the six-month anniversary comes around in October I probably will not be cured. I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I felt much better. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. 

Struggling I took the decision after talking with the Bedfordshire Well-Being team and several of the staff there I ended the patronising group lessons and have since then been in vainly trying to find anywhere locally that will be able to see me at such a short period of time that are not grossly expensive is almost nigh on Impossible. After a long sit in the doctors waiting room last Saturday morning, I saw the doctor (a different one every time I have been I must admit) I expressed my concerns to the them who promptly told me that it was a difficult position to be in for everyone involved. On the one hand going to my GP and seeking medical attention for my mental health was and continually is a great step in making myself better. As a result of that directly I have been put on medication to treat and improve my "chemical mood", something in which I feel is benefiting me greatly. Whilst awaiting it be one-to-one counselling via the NHS, there is very little that anyone can actually offer that will be of any use or help. 

Whilst I appreciate that the NHS in England is definitely under a huge strain, it is fundamentally wrong and critically important to increase the waiting times to a better standard.The thing is, if I broke my leg on the other hand they would try to operate as soon as immediately possible, having me in and out of that specific treatment quickly and efficiently so as to move on to the next patient. And yet for mental health it appears as though there is a lack of understanding in terms of how life threatening and dangerous it is for patients to wait to seek treatment. As with a broken leg mental health can become infected very quickly and easily causing more and more damage, and yet despite all of this the waiting list in the UK, at least for England anyway, is minimum of eighteen months and two years. 

Whilst the medicine I am on made me feel queasy and nauseous in the beginning, that has now subsided and I am now left feeling quite positive and happy in myself and my life generally although this doesn't stop the pressure that I feel from loved ones and frankly it is becoming a little too much to bear sometimes. I know that people mean well and that in reality I am of the knowledge that I need to sort out these issues but first and foremost, I need to sort myself out. Trust me when I say that it is simply a long story that I may share with you another time, but for the meantime I am doing as well as can be and battling it through to make the best out of what I have. I have been in touch recently with a couple of charities local to Bedford, one of them called the Amicus Trust which have said that they are able to give me some help with free counselling sessions in order to work through my problems as quickly as possible so that life can get back on track. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx