Swingball and socialising

Well, it definitely wasn't a placebo. Up until Wednesday I was still waiting for the worst of it to hit. I told a friend on Wednesday morning that although this drug had not produced the hellish nausea and fuzzy head of FEC, I had my suspicions that it was working under the surface on a further "darker" set of side effects.

I was right. By Wednesday tea time I had the most horrendous heartburn ever. My chest felt so odd that I seriously started to wonder whether I was in fact getting some sort of dreaded infection instead.

Then the predicted joint aches kicked in. Bit like someone insistently and frequently prodding you from inside your various limbs. Paracetamol sorted that to an extent and thankfully also dulled the heartburn although clearly one cannot simply continue taking painkillers for indigestion!

My temperature was not rising and I didn't feel feverish so I hoped it was just side effects rather than illness. Rang the ward first thing on Thursday for advice and they were great, said it sounded like indigestion to them too and suggested I ring my GP who could prescribe something.

I didn't ring that day as I wasn't sure whether I would have to go to the surgery and I didn't fancy doing that with two kids in tow. The joint aches continued and I felt justified in sampling my Co-Codamol that evening. Effective stuff.

The heartburn started to improve but I still rang the GP on Friday who was fab and prescribed (new and complicated name coming up) Omeprazole. I didn't even have to go in and see him, brilliant service. He told me that I was never going to get anywhere taking the likes of Gaviscon for this and the drug he has prescribed is an actual acid suppressant so it stops or reduces the production of acid rather than trying to deal with it once is is already there and causing a problem.

Mentioned to my mother in law about this and she said I must get some peppermints in. Yeah, and a bloody voodoo doll to go with it, that will be equally effective. She doesn't believe in pill popping. The Daily Mail says it will kill you, apparently. Not sure of her stance on chemotherapy... #door #horse #bolted #dailyfail

I felt ok on Saturday and went to a lovely BBQ party for my sister's birthday. Was still tired out this morning after all the socialising. A dear longstanding chum whose friendship goes back to our playschool days together was down visiting and popped round for a cuppa and a nice catch up this morning. Then me, Dan and the kids had a chilled afternoon in the garden. 

I finally persuaded Dan to erect the Swingball (ooerrrr missus) on his precious lawn and showed him a snapshot of my formidable skills in that department. 

Also started showing Abbie how to do it and she was really quite good at hitting it once Daddy stopped insisting she hold the bat in her right hand when she is clearly a leftie. Had many hours of Swingball practice as a young girl wearing out my dad's lawn at home before finally being banished to play it in the field at the bottom of our drive instead. And yes, I played it for ages on my own, I was an oddball loner.

It's actually a brilliant stress reliever. Think I may well take it up again now. Or just use the bat to fly swat anyone who annoys me, instead...?