Pfuse

Is it the good weather? The fact that exams are over? Or has my blog become so boring that no one reads it? Anyway, it is time to blog again.

The cool thing about my job is that actually I am not too busy and slightly under challenged. This gives me the opportunity to train to organize myself and all the other things that usually get lost on the long way of delivery. I also learn a bit of the diplomatic grass root work, which seems mostly long letters containing as much formal French as little information. It is like doing the internship I never did during my studies. Times of crisis are also a time of second chance.

Meanwhile my doc went on vaccation. So yesterday I was sitting with her replacement during the weekly checkup. Ironically it was the same doc who treated me at my first appearance at the emergency department back on Easter. He had prescribed me the first drug and said that all that had been done since was as he had done it also. He checked symptoms and side effects and looked actually like he was doing maths on his sheet, with the final result on the bottom of the page, while listening.
In a nutshell: compared to the state that I should have given all the medication I have swallowed since March I feel, well absolutely pathetic. As bad as this conclusion was, I had already heard it three weeks back. Still he tried to convince me again of the new medication.
I interrupted him saying that I had full confidence into the art of medicine (a lie, as actually it has been severely challenged in recent times) and that I was not questionning the new medicine. But that I was asking myself, that now, where I finally started a new job, I feared that another three week horror trip with sside effects making my stomach and all other organs roller cost could actually cripple me for too long to keep the job.
"I know." he said, meaning that he could not change about it. Me neither. By the end of the day my health - and life (I wished I could call this an exaggeration, but for hell's sake it is not, even if I am lying to myself about it all day) - prime.
I am sick of being ill. I am sick of fearing about my life.

He said he would send me the prescription by mail, but that he would like me to do a test first. I should take the night pill already at 7:30 pm. It should make me feel better for the night until going into bed.
"I am going to fall asleep instantly." I opposed.
"No, no! This is only an effect in the beginning. Now you have taken the pill for so long, this effect should have weakened. Try it and send me an email how it went!"
So I took the pill at 7:32pm. Around 7:40pm I felt pretty good. Around 7:50pm I left the computer, because I felt too tired. I made myself comfy in front of the TV. At 8pm I was sleeping on the couch like a baby, until at 10pm my mum woke me up with her most motherly voice: "Sweetheart, why don't you sleep in your bed?" making me feel at least 25 years younger.

This afternoon I sent a 3 sentence mail to the doc explaining what happened. He answered in a page long email about the importance of sleep and suggested to take the pill 1 hour later. I take the pill now (10pm) - and expect simply to sleep - joyfully.