The roller coaster ride is getting rougher… Give me a break!

All right. Let’s face the truth straight away shall we? When I give you guys the hard facts, I’ll then go into detail, more about me because simply put, there isn’t any good news to say about JP at the moment, other than that he is possibly dying. Why the fuck was there a day that I’d have to write that about this amazing kid. I don’t know him personally, but Jesus! The family definitely gets journal readers to get to know him from a distance! All he wants is to be a typical child, but unfortunately his body isn’t responding to treatment at the moment. As much as his will is there, his fragile, frail body is no following it because the flu has damn well got him. Hopefully with a bit more time his body will start to fight the infection, that is if somehow the doctors can get his immune system to start working. His condition is basically that he has no immune system, so he needs medicines and fluids to help his body fight infections and to keep whatever limited immunity he does have. So that’s the news. Pray that he won’t get any worse! They haven’t even changed his life support settings at all. If they can’t adjust his life support in two days, the parents are unfortunately going to have to say goodbye. That is the sad truth, as it stands today. We seriously need to rally for this boy. His site is and it’d be nice if people would at least read the site, even if they didn’t write a message int he guestbook. As much as JP loves messages, he loves the prayers, thoughts, etc, going up for him. Either way, he needs drastic help, more than what the doctors can give at this stage. All they’re doing now is keeping him alive for long enough for JP to hopefully heal. On Monday afternoon I’ll write another update to let you know how he’s going. He has won his battle, but he needs to win on earth, just like every other child does when they’re sick. I couldn’t care less about the scars, I couldn’t care less about anything really, except that he suffers a hell of a lot less than he’s doing now! I know that’s tough, being that he does have a few physical disorders, but the fact that he loved going to school, tried to keep his grades up, tried to live his life as though he was normal, even though he knew his limits, tried to just be a normal ten-year-old boy, is good enough. As much as nobody wants him in pain, and he was in a bit of pain before he got this flu, he still had a good enough quality of life to say that hey, he could still keep going had it not been for this fucking buggerlugs! Poor thing, you’ll be all right. Just keep fighting man! Please, please let your parents know that you want to stay here, you don’t want life to be too hard for you and for them, but since you had a quality of life before you got sick, you should still stay here know matter what the doctors think of your medical status! Please tell your patents that! They’d really appreciate it. Come on, we’re gonna cheer JP on until he hits the other side! On this earth that is.

Now on to some other news which will rip the guts out of you guys. My stomach was almost a literal mess last night. Um, what I hate to say is that my eye is worse. Again,, I’ve had to go up on the pain medication. It’s a sad state of affairs when I have to go from taking Panadeine Forte once or twice in a while, to needing to take it more often than that. I took some last night, I took some this morning. I may have to take some again this arvo, depending on how my stupid ugly eye feels. Right now it feels like there’s a piece of gravel stuck in the side of it, but on the eyeball itself. The rest of my eyeball feels like it’s full of salt water. It just stings, it fucking hurts as well like sand is being poked into it as tightly as possible. And when I blink,, it feels like I’m trying to get rid of that piece of gravel, and that causes pain like it’s blinking out but won’t come out. The codeine is dulling that pain right now. I’m basically gonna have to take Panadeine Forte soon, then in a few hours, nurofen plus, then possibly tomorrow, Panamax and nurofen plus, then maybe Panadeine Forte after that. Since I have to make the stuff last because I’ve only got two doses left, I can’t decide how I’m going to time it right so that I can take my last dose of Panadeine Forte on Monday night or Tuesday morning. As much as I don’t want constipation issues happening, my eye is worse than that. At least I can have a few gallons of water and relieve the constipation. At least it’ll take two days to go away and I’ll be fine. My eye pain is fucked, it’ll never go away without surgery unfortunately. I’d rather suffer from something that is definitely controllable and curable and fix it later, after I’ve relieved suffering that will not go away. This is sad. I guess I’ll be addicted to codeine next week. I used to need codeine only sometimes, but now I’m needing it every single day, not just every second or third day, for the convenience of keeping my pain under control. Now I really need it to keep the pain down,, because it’s no longer under control with a touch of codeine and lots of Panamax and nurofen.

I guess I’ll be buying Panadeine Extra tomorrow. It’s only half a dose of Panadeine Forte, but honestly, my eye isn’t under control anymore. As of now, I’m simply dulling my out-of-control flare-ups. I’m even gonna tell the pharmacist that I’m more concerned about incurable suffering at the moment, let’s fix the drug problems when I’m better, because at least they’ll be gone in two weeks. It’s not like I allow drug problems to happen because I have nothing better to do. I figure that drug issues are the lesser of the two evils at the moment. Maybe I should just take nurofen plus now, it can’t hurt to have a bit of extra codeine in the system, just so long as I don’t have too much! At least I’ll only need Panamax later, and my eye pain will be there but won’t be unbearable. I’ll just drink a few big bottles of water to keep my fluids running through the guts correctly. I think life is so fucking depressing when I have to keep my medications at my bedside like a dying person. It’ is fucking sad. But oh well. My eye will get fixed on Wednesday. If it isn’t fixable, I’ll be waking up to a big fat dose of valium and some bad news. It’s all fine. It can’t be any worse than this. It is a fantastic life I live really, because other people have it worse than me, they’re dying as I write. So really I have a fucking great life. I just want less suffering in it, and it’ll be enjoyable, not just fantastic. I feel like I’m living a good life that has no joy in it because it’s full of shit that if it wasn’t there, I’d be cruising along quite happily. The only drama I have in my life is my eye, and I’m too lazy to get off my fucking ass and go for a friggen walk more often. They’re my two problems I have. The rest of my life is fine. Let’s fix my eye and get rid of the medications, and I’ll be jumping around like a dog who has been caged for months. Oh yeah, the weather is hot, but I can get a taxi home if necessary.

It’s not as though the family is gonna let me put Troy in their car. They’re such great help when I’ve got Troy and I’m stranded somewhere because I can’t get home without a taxi driver. That’s right, I’m crazy because I spend eight dollars on the occasional taxi, but the same people won’t pick me up if necessary, if Troy is with me? Thanks family. I’ll remember you for sure when I fall over half dead one day. You won’t save my life, somebody else will. I might just accept strangers into my life as family, since they fucking well do a better job of respecting me and being a brother and sister to me. Some strangers won’t talk to me either, but at least most of them have the guts to say a quick hi and walk away. I could honestly survive without my family. They pretend to be there for me all of the time, but really they’re only there when it suits them to be there. I’m fine with suiting other people when they’re helping me get from A to B, but if they can’t suit some of the things I want, like occasionally putting Troy in their car to get home if I need a lift, some of those little things I need help with, then I won’t be there for them. I have to put my life out for other people because of whatever reason, but the same ones are too fucking stuck-up to put themselves out for me when it comes to something minor. That’s ok. I’ll just slowly fade away from my family one day. I won’t abandon them overnight, I’ll just sort of fade away gradually over a few years. It’s a pity I can’t cut my doctors out of my life like that. They’re too scared that I’m going to kill myself without warning, so they keep tabs on me as though I’m a prisoner. I’m basically a free woman, only with invisible monitors on me, blipping and beeping to let the doctors know that I’m still alive. They’re pretty fucking well right for being that way though,, because yeah I might just hang myself without warning anyone or even myself. I don’t have enough time to prepare a comfortable suicide plan anyway, because I have a few people around me that I love, only a few people though. And there’s Troy. And there’s the doctors keeping me going back and forth from appointments so often that when I think of a good time to go, suddenly I’ve got an appointment next week or next month, that I’ve said I’d turn up to! So I can’t actually get away without warning them! If I were to successfully kill myself tonight, my Uncle would find me on Tuesday and alert the police and the hospital, and everyone else. My success would be slim though, because somebody would catch me and secretly ring the ambulance and I’d never get a warning, other than Troy running to the door, somebody blasting the thing open, and grabbing me and throwing me into their car faster than you’d toss paper into a bin. So I can’t even successfully kill myself. All that considered, I think of the people I love talking too, the people I’d miss. I’d miss Troy terribly. And because of Tuesday and Wednesday’s happenings, I won’t be committing suicide anyway. So there’s no point of even thinking of what method and the how and why of it anymore!

There’s too many observant people, too much hope for me now, considering the stuff my doctors have lined up for me. I guess hope is a good thing, but at the same time I don’t appreciate any of the suffering I’ll put up with next week. Hopefully I’ll be kept in hospital for longer so if anything goes wrong, I won’t kill myself out of insanity. That won’t be good. Once I’m started, everything that I find of value in my life is forgotten for long enough that I’d do anything stupid to get out of the current bad situation. So it’s gonna take a lot of sane people and medications to keep me happy and out of the woods. Nan and Pop aren’t sane, so they’d better not dare turn up to spoil my progress over next week. They do nothing to help me get better. “Just accept your problems”, or “just accept that getting sick is a part of life”, is their fuckhead attitude. I might, if they’d learn how to be part of the real world and possibly accept that these problems and sick issues don’t have to be borne forever. Then again, it’s my life, so if I don’t accept spewing up as a normal part of my life, that’s my decision. I’ll do anything to stop it from happening at any cost. If helping myself get over sick issues and so forth with whatever trick that works for me, makes me happy, then I don’t expect two dickheads trying to change that. The next time they start a fire in me, they’ll be consumed by it. I tried to consume them last time, but my hero of an ophthalmologist stood in front of me and separated me and my firebrands from Nan and Pop. He didn’t want my horrible grandparents looking at my evil frown and my eyes, which I’d held open like I was gonna keel over. Well, sadly I nearly did keel over, and Nan and Pop had to watch that! At least Pop stood near the doorway of the room while Nan stood back a bit. Not that they care though, sickness and health is nothing to them, unless it’s about them and their suffering. Fuck everyone else and fuck the doctors, unless it’s their doctors helping them. Goodbye Nanna and Pop. I hate you and I never want to see you or talk to you again.

If they turn up to the hospital next week, I’m telling them they’re not welcome, a little bit politely of course. I’m not going into hospital to have visitors drag me here and there and rush me home when they want me to leave. I’m going into hospital to get better and to leave as fast as I can, when I am able to go! I’m the one that’s unwell, not the fucking embasiles who want me to go home. It’s the patient and the doctors who need to determine what happens, as much as the family wants to have the last say, thinking that they’re helping me when all they’re doing is pissing me off! At least while Nan and Pop aren’t there, the rest of them will be jeering me on so I can go home well, instead of going home as sick as a dog with the same amount of help as I’d need in a hospital. Right now it’s just a drama queen thing, but when it comes to the crunch, people won’t want me at home when I can’t manage my life I can assure you.

I can tolerate needing a bit of help for two days after my hospital stay. But going home when I can’t eat properly, feeling like I need to spew up bad enough that I’m too scared to eat or drink, like that’s all shit. Nan and Pop keep forgetting that it’s not food that makes me vomit. It’s the anesthesia that does that. But then they’ll admit it and act all unsympathetic as though I’m meant to feel good about putting up with it. They seem to think that I like to go to hospital and get attention because suffering must be a nice thing. Then they say that hospitals are full of germs and I need to go home sooner rather than later, and that I can’t go home without eating properly and going to the toilet properly and all that. And in the next breath they’re saying I’ll be in hospital for as long as it takes? Again, goodbye to them. Hospitals are full of germs, but so if my eye, right now. If I don’t get rid of the germs here, I’ll be twice as sick as I ever will be while I’m in the hospital. And the only reason I’ll get sicker in hospital is because I’m probably already sick to start with! Hello, the saying would be, “You’ll get worse before you get better?” That’s not always the case, but the point is that when you’re in hospital, you’d probably want to stay there until you’re well enough to manage at home. Those fuckhead things seem to think I don’t have an immune system or something. There are people a million times sicker than I am, and they still survive going to the hospital every day, or staying in there for weeks or months at a time. It would suggest that maybe the fucking medical people in those hospitals would actually know what they’re doing most of the time. But no, dumbo Nan and Popsicle wouldn’t know that. And the mother-$ers would also not remember that doctors want people to be at home, but not if they’re not managing themselves well, and definitely if the patient thinks they’re too unwell to manage without help for another day. I’m about to blow my fuse, so I’m quitting the subject right now.

I decided to take some more Panadeine Forte. I can feel that eye pain fucking flaring up already. It’s bearable at this time, but if I leave it for one more hour, it wont be. It feels like the pain that doesn’t control very quickly with weaker medications. Last night when I took nurofen plus, I had a bit of trouble with my eye. It wasn’t really bad, it was just there. That was even with the Panamax I took with it. I’ll see how I am in a few hours and test the nurofen plus with the Panamax. If my eye pain is still between 4.5 and 5, I’ll know that my eye definitely needs seeing to. I guess I could just take nurofen plus all day tomorrow, even though you’re only meant to take six tablets a day. Unfortunately my pain control is too fucked for that. My heart has just skipped a beat, because I’m so sad that it’s now taking codeine at a 60MG dose, to keep my eye soreness at between 3 and 4.5! Oh my fuuuuuuuuuucking God. I even kept the codeine at a minimum, only took the Panadeine Forte sometimes because that’s what the doctor literally ordered, did everything right. But um… Well the roller coaster is really taking a downhill, out-of-control twist. That’s right. My life is doing fine. I apparently forgot that I feel perfectly fine and have no problems to deal with. So now, I’m gonna have a loo break, get a sandwich so I can stay sane and not upset myself to feeling sick like I did last night, and come back to my air-conditioned room and play computer games while I go all lethargic, lousy as though I haven’t slept for years, and eat and pretend that life isn’t as bad as I think it is. It is all bull shit isn’t it?


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