From May 6th 2022 Is it nearly bedtime yet? I mean, my evening bedtime. Not my afternoon bedtime. (Anyone would think I’M the three-year-old in this anecdote). When I go for my afternoon bedtime, my son usually has some quiet time in his bedroom. He normally plays with his toys and watches his kindle. Not…
From April 19th 2022 And here’s today’s chronically craptastic awareness raising anecdote: I took my son somewhere new to play today. He loved it – lots of variety with toys, sensory and messy play. It was fantastic for him. And I loved it too because I got to chat with other mums. But it was…
April 11th 2022 Welcome! My name is Emma, and I have very recently made the decision to start blogging. And why have I decided to do this, you might ask? Well, for a start, I went missing from the world for 3 years – and no-one even looked for me! Rude. I wasn’t missing in…
Being chronically ill is hard enough, without being chronically crusty as well. Here, I discuss my personal hygiene hurdles from when I was severely unwell through to the present day.
M.E Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (M.E) is a complex multi-system disease with a wide range of disabling symptoms. ME is sometimes referred to as chronic fatigue syndrome/CFS. Personally, I can’t stand that name as it sounds a bit like ‘Very Tired Syndrome’ – which completely undermines the seriousness and complexities of the condition. The fatigue associated with…
POTS POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. This condition results from a dysfunction of the autonomic nervous system – also referred to as dysautonomia. The autonomic nervous system controls all the body’s involuntary systems, like heart rate, blood pressure, and digestion to name but a few – which can all be affected in POTS. …
This post concludes my three-part journey to a diagnosis of M.E and POTS.
My journey to diagnosis was all-encompassing, and my health deteriorated throughout. It was pretty crap – although I hope my way of sharing it with you is less crap.
Here, I describe the lead up to realising I was unwell. It wasn’t a quick realisation; it kind of crept up on me, like mould – or festive weight gain.