The bad fortnight

A brief account of the week.

A rough few days. Not dangerous, just relentlessly unpleasant, the kind of unwell where you cannot read and cannot sleep and cannot settle to anything.

Reflux again. I slept propped up on three pillows and woke at two anyway. I have an appointment on Thursday and I am going to actually mention it this time rather than deciding it is not worth bothering anyone about.

Very tired. Not the kind of tired a nap fixes. I slept nine hours and woke feeling as though I had been awake all night.

Bad week and I am writing it down anyway, because a journal that only contains the good weeks would be a lie and no use to anybody reading it later.

Sore at the injection site for about ten days, a small firm lump under the skin. The pharmacist looked at it, was unbothered, and told me to move further round next time.

More when I know more.