Sunday, 18 October 2009

Day 9, and all is not lost

It's actually working. This may be a miracle.

Well, by 'working' we mean an almost 100% success rate (1 bad night out of the whole run so far), however it does seem to be making my control during the day absolutely rubbish and I wake up super-dehydrated.

However, I think the 'off' nights could be countered with less stress at work (snort snort, now's a good time) and keeping a bottle of water next to the bed. Not sure what to do about the daytime except to see if the urologist they may one day actually refer me to (still no letter...) might get me a doctor's note for a Kegel8. You never know!

Oh, and for some reason I seem to be losing weight at the moment. Go me!

Sunday, 11 October 2009

Deh 2, and Steerven has left the dyary room.

Successful night. Yay me! Maybe there's life in the old drug yet.


Then I wake up to a text from my friend: Stephen Gately from Boyzone has died. Why The Face?!? He was 33! Wine gums last longer!


I am sad, but in that odd "Perspective" way I had when I was 11 and knew I would never marry him because he was 20, had never met me and lived in Ireland: I'm sad because it seems he was popular in showbiz for being A Nice Man, and those people will miss him, and he was just getting to the age and stage in his c
areer where he had the scope to go out and do more things that would interest him. Also, I know he had a large, close family and a loving boyfriend, and they'll miss him too. He had a very strong faith so I hope that wherever he's ended up, he's happy there.

Yours,

Saphi Brown.

Stephen Gateley in "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" - photo by John Rogers ©.

Saturday, 10 October 2009

Day 1, the housemates are in the kitchen

Right. About to start D-P treatment, 200 mcg once at night, apparently (I sometimes wondered if the spray was ineffective because so much of it must go astray?).

However, I've been out with OH in the afternoon and again for dinner tonight, so my day has involved a pint and a half as well as a couple of little cokes and a late-night cuppa during Strictly. Plus I've been super-tired all day so I'm worried I just might not wake up until it's all too late as usual.

Does sugar intake make these things worse? Hope not. Wish me luck.

In which I get seriously hacked off

If you have read my opening gambit you will understand that I am a genuine adult suffering from persistent 'nocturnal enuresis' and am not having much of a good time getting it cured. I would also be very happy if someone were to stumble across the blog, realise that they are not the only bedwetter in the world over the age of 6 (according to stats, there are quite a few of us after all), and go out to seek medical help, or peer support (if there are these things on the internet...I'm not a champion of forums, unfortunately).

But today I have come back from a rather brief Saturday visit to my genial GP to find
a) for lack of any answers, I have been prescribed with a drug that I took between the ages of 6 and 18 with no visible effects* except to give me a mild fear of nasal sprays.
b) a scan I was given over a month and a half ago for an unrelated medical problem has still not found its way from the hospital to my GP, and I have to wait for the admin staff (who couldn't even be bothered to keep all their computers on until all the patients had been seen, so I couldn't book a blood test) to chase it up.

Forgive me for being annoyed that I have to continually draw the practice's attention to the fact that my medical records aren't being updated. And forgive me for being a bit upset at the notion of following the road of a drug that led me to various urologists who wanted to take my teenage self off various possibly helpful treatments at the time, not because they perceived they were working, but because they were costing the NHS money, so the sooner I could be weaned back off them the better.

You may think I'm overreacting, but when you've spent the last 3 months or so waking your boyfriend more nights than not so you can strip the bed, make the bed, make a mad dash past your sleeping housemates to boil-wash the bedding AGAIN and have a shower at 2 in the morning, and this has been your life for the last 24 years (replacing boyfriends and housemates with parents and siblings and other housemates, depending on the age), you might get a little upset, and maybe want a whole night's sleep (I love my sleep, me :)).

And I don't even have a tumble dryer any more.

In good news, I will eventually get a blood test (which will show that I am fine), and a referral from the GP to a urologist/incontinence specialist (who will scan things and conclude that my entire abdominal cavity is normal). I shall wait by the letterbox to see if anything comes of anything...I am living in a different city after all. They do things differently here. (A better class of drug dealer, for example).

I'll be back to catch up, hopefully in a better mood next time, maybe chatting about the odd other thing (blogging, I hear they call it). But for now I must be off to lunch, and take my parentheses with me.

Yours,

Saphi Brown.

*being relatively unassuming as a child I generally did what I was told medically, and it only occurs to me as strange now that no-one seemed especially over-concerned that I was treated for so long with something that didn't work.