My Clementine

i have decided that my cyst is of the utmost importance in my life right now and set about making calls and chasing medical professionals. My Cyst is about the size of a clementine and compared to my usual golf balls and grapes it is quite alarming to see it slowly ooze from me. 

I was put on progesterone last year which was to prevent any further endometriosis growing and cease further pain. I paid £5000 privately to be put on this medication and told to join the thousands of others that the NHS cannot cope with. This means I have to wait a month to see my general practitioner and months on end to see a Gynaecologist. I have been waiting a FULL year to see this one. I asked straight out for an oopherectomy and was denied even though I was paying for it. Now I wait and wait and wait and wait. Cysts bursting inside me like infrequent fireworks as and when they choose to grow. My life is still suspended wether you like it or not.

Two years ago I was a voluntary patient in a psychiatric hospital in Ireland. The Doctors sat around a table and laid out a plan for me to have a hysterectomy and then a 28day phychiatry programme to get my mental health back on track. I refused. I wanted my family around me if I had any major surgery and I was so suicudal I knew would just keep going if left to my own devices. I look back on that plan and wonder how my life would have been if I had stayed. That was suicide attempt number one of five. 

Battling the medical service is hard work and I just cannot let it depress me again, I really cannot let that happen. I know what I look like to them. I’m perfectly normal on the outside but the pain on the inside can stop my whole life. Full stop. I need supportive friends, family and mostly a General Practictioner!

 It is too early for me to be reflective about what happened. Even talking about suicide is abstract from me; I know I did it but it is like talking about a different Me. I can see that the baby steps I took last year have led me here but I cannot tell you how I made it this far. Today I miss my therapist and need her to lean on, to talk to about my clementine, she would understand that the clementine is scaring me, making me panic and feel vulnerable. She would understand that it is not the blood I fear but the mental demise of spinster life.

My clementine has awakened old anxiety and problems not yet conquered. My clementine tells me I am not yet ready to move on. My clementine wants me to accept who I am and why I am. My clementine is the last challenge in a long five year battle with myself as enemy. My clementine will show me the road to my acceptance. 


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