Today

I’m using the notes app to write my entry so I can edit it before I post it. So much for not needing to rant! Well, apparently I’m wrong. Here we go, sit down for a while.

My doctor’s appointment went perfectly. One of my toes needed a major clean, it was full of shit and was getting sorer over time. The podiatrist reckons that whatever damage I may have done a long time back, has caused the toenail to buckle, and she said there’s no cure for it. So she cut it as much as she could and filed and cleaned it. It hurt like shit for a while, but she kept cleaning underneath it until it felt less sore. She cleaned my other toenails, a couple of them hurt a little, but again, there was sooooo much dead skin under them that any person would have sore feet if their toes were that dirty and grubby. So the doctor sanded all the dead skin away and cleared the shit off my toes, then had another look at the bothersome toenail. It’s the one on my left foot next to my big toe. She reckons that the skin and nerves under the nail are inflamed and irritated and that if it won’t settle, she’d pull the nail off my toe and cultivate that nail until the new nail was grown onto my toe correctly, or she’d totally cut the nail out and let a new toenail come from the bed. That’s absolutely disgusting but obviously she doesn’t want the nail to get worse or she’ll have to take the whole thing away so it can’t grow again, and it’s the last resort option.

Nan sat in with me. She carried on a bit, but that’s common among older people. She told me it’s a good idea to look after the body parts as long as you can. I agree partly. The body needs to be as natural as possible. But when it’s uncomfortable, the priorities change dramatically sometimes, and I’d rather be comfortable with less body parts if the uncomfortable parts can’t be fixed, e.g teeth, toenails, arms. legs, whatever. Try to fix your body, but if you’re that sick or injured or whatever, the body doesn’t need to put up with that crap. So I told Nan that I’d look after my body and keep all my body parts if I’m not in pain. I don’t believe in living a miserable life, I never have done. After a while Nan carried on about how I don’t look after my body properly, so I told her I’m too old to have everyone else tell me what I need and don’t need to do. Yes I may need professional help, but no amount of coaxing is gonna stop me from being frightened of the dentist, and if people don’t want me to be sick, then they need to keep me distracted so I don’t get nauseous. The podiatrist kept talking about everything else and not always about my grimy and grubby feet, so I had no reason to feel sick or spew. At the end of the appointment, the doctor told me that so long as she keeps the nails under control, I’d be right. She reckons I’m looking after my body as good as I can, and I’m not doing a bad job. So if Nan isn’t satisfied that I’m looking after myself, that’s her fucking problem. My teeth are disgusting, they need fixing really badly, when I’m zombified on valium that is. Nan tried her shit about the dentist, so I told her in front of the doctor that I’m set in my ways and I do things whenever I’m ready, no amount of
confidence will change that. She makes me fucken frustrated!!!!!!! My grandparents might be helping me, but they forget that they don’t live in my body. I even told her that when they’re not around anymore, my health wouldn’t be their problem. No person friggen pushes their weight around with me. I then told the doctor that of course she can tell me what needs doing, she’s the one fixing my feet. But I absolutely won’t change how I wear shoes for no doctor unless they have a good reason to tell me why I shouldn’t wear my style of shoes. The same goes for my arms, back, private parts, you name it, I don’t do what anyone says unless they have reliable proof that the way I’m handling myself is going to harm or kill me.

Besides Nan making me angry, I like this podiatrist, so I want to keep going back to her. I have another appointment in March, so I hope there will be more good news and that this toenail on my left foot isn’t any worse. There’s a few options she could try, but she said if I’m not in a lot of pain, she doesn’t want to make me suffer or take painkillers unless she really has to. I let her know I wanted to be told when I should take tablets before any of these appointments because I want to tolerate them as much as I can if she has to do any stupid procedures. But she reckons that for the next few appointments I won’t need medicine to help me. To me that’s good news! As for the dentist, I don’t want to hear about it till I get a letter. And if Nan doesn’t help me get my prescription to help me with that appointment, then I won’t be going. I’m living my life, I do not have to do anything I do not want to do!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m not here to be anybody’s puppet on a string. I’m not a fucking child, if I’m sick enough, not that I’d wait till I’m dead – but if I’m in enough pain, I will ask for help, or just accept help, or something. I do not need someone to clean my arse for me thank you. I’ll breathe for myself and that’s all there is to it. If Nan wants to tell me how to say please and thanks, then I think it’s about time I started opening my trap a bit more, and actually advocating for myself to get the help that I think I need, instead of letting everyone else tell me how I need help. I’m a grown woman now. If I have to be a five-year-old to suit Nan and Pop, then I can stop hanging around them and be a thirty-year-old around someone who wants me to be an adult.

It has been raining a lot for the past week. The heatwave is totally gone and I haven’t needed the air-conditioner at all. Hopefully the light bill won’t be as big as I’m expecting it to be! And this place, it’s really relaxing and the layout is awesome! I’ll never go back to lino again! Tiles are sooooo much easier to keep clean. All this crap about how slippery they are! Just be cautious and you won’t slip over. I happen to like my unit, and anyone who tries to talk me into moving somewhere else is gonna have a hard time getting me to cooperate. I like it here, I’m not having a lot of trouble. The washing machine outside is a bit troublesome because water and electricity doesn’t mix, but apparently no one else has been harmed, so I don’t know what to think. As far as I’m concerned, so long as I’m being careful, stuff what anyone else thinks or says. It’s my space in this house, everyone will do things on my terms. TThey can live how they like here, but so long as they aren’t trying to live my life, we’ll all get along.

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