Christmas Roundup

I’m a bit schizophrenic when it comes to Christmas.  On the one hand I can’t wait to put up my pretty tree and all my twinkly Christmas lights, and on the other it’s a time of year which often makes me feel incredibly lonely and isolated and brings on massive FOMO.

2018 sees my 24th Christmas with M.E. and the 21st Christmas I’ve spent alone (ie without a partner).  Most of the time I’m perfectly happy in my single-ness, but there’s something about being underneath a soft throw on my sofa, with the fire blazing and the lights twinkling that always makes me think it would be so lovely to have someone to snuggle up to, preferably someone whose fur doesn’t make me itch and whose beard doesn’t smell of tripe 😉

It’s also the one time of the year when I miss drinking.  I’d love to be able to just have a nice fruity Chardonnay alongside my sour cream n onion Pringles, or some Prosecco with my Christmas dinner.  I personally don’t think it’s too much to ask, but sadly my mast cells think differently.

This week has been one of the most stressful of the year, but I’m so thankful that now my Dad is going to get the specialist help and care he’s needed for so long and a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.  Whether or not he makes any kind of recovery I know that I have done my best for him and that’s all anyone can ask of themselves.

Friday night I had my parents over for dinner, alongside my two lovely neighbours, and we had a nice evening.  Because of my own health it’s not often I can do any of the social things that  healthy people take for granted, but I always make an effort at Christmas to host this one dinner party because it makes me feel normal just for a night, even if my normal is spending the evening with four people almost in their eighties!  It will be the only social event I will have over the holidays and the only time I will have any visitors to my home.  Even the sodding dog walker is taking a fortnight off, ditto the cleaner, so not a single person but me will pass over my doorstep.  It’s a bugger that I’ll have to eat all the After Eights myself rather than sharing them, but it’s just a cross I’ll have to bare 😀

I will visit my parents for a  few hours on Christmas day.  We will unwrap our gifts, have just a light lunch, then I’ll come home around 3pm, collapse into bed and pray there’s something decent to watch on the telly.  We have our roast Christmas dinner on Boxing Day, when my folks and I go out to a nice restaurant where a chef cooks for us and someone else does the washing up.   It suits us and means that Christmas is as un-exhausting as it can be.  The rest of the week will be like any other, with the added burden of having to walk Bertie twice a day every day and having to change my own bed sheets which nearly flippin kills me considering I have a king sized bed and a duvet cover that is evil.

I hope you all enjoy Christmas, whatever you’re doing or whoever you’re sharing or not sharing it with.  I shall leave you with a little ditty I wrote and which I put on my blog every Xmas because I can’t be arsed to think of a new one 😉  It is sung to the tune of Once in Royal David’s City.

Once in snowy North West England,
Lived a lonely, country girl
Mast cells that were sorely rampant
histamine that made her hurl
Jak she was that poorly child
M-CAD was that illness vile.

Subluxations sent to try her
Joints all wandering out of place
Splints and braces plus her scooter
helped her join the human race
Jak she was that poorly childmistletoe
E.D.S that illness vile

Monthly torture from her cycle
makes her feel that she is cursed
Menopause that drives her crazy
She’s not sure yet which is worse
Jak she was that poorly child
Endo is an illness vile

Nervous system going bonkers
Pins & needles all the time
She would kill to just get tipsy
she’s allergic to the wine
Jak she was that poorly child
POTS doth make an illness vile

She is tired beyond all reason
Half her life is spent in bed
That Hugh Jackman is her Carer
fantasies just in her head
Jak she is that poorly child
M.E. is an illness vile.

Doctors told her she was crazy
symptoms were all in her head
She just hoped they’d catch her illness
or that they would drop down dead
Jak she was that poorly child
Chronic illness truly vile.

Tests which showed she’s really sickly
She had known this all along
Blew a raspberry at the doctors
who all said there’s nothing wrong
Jak she is that poorly child
Finding proof, though, was a trial!


merry xmas





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