Amy's Brain

The egg in my head

Update 12: Eggshit & Snot


warning snotty one

Eggshit

Eggshit, brexshit, it’s all shit. Also, I clearly can’t stay away from these puns. Must be the brain injury (and/or my comedy genius is unstoppable)

A while ago, my sister mentioned that it might be a bit unfair to miss out all the miserable stuff in my communications. She’s right, it’s not OK to suggest that I can handle all of this in a ‘hunky-dory-it’s quite funny really’ way. What if someone else gets really ill and can’t find the funny side?  Hang on a sec…. that’s me now. I’m sad and dying and it’s not fucking funny.

Then after the June appointment life began adjusting back to normal and I wanted to forget the brain stuff. I couldn’t forget about it but I wanted to. The bloody egg, despite its significant debulking, just comes popping up into my thoughts over and over again. Just when I think I’m getting on with things up it bubbles. “You do remember you’re dying don’t you?” it says. Fuck. I forgot there for a while. It was nice, I was normal me again but then bang “I think you’ve had a couple of hours / days too long. Don’t relax. You’re dying. You need to worry about it, cry about it, contemplate it. What’s wrong with you? You couldn’t possibly have forgotten”. So it comes; I worry, cry, research, build up some hope. I manage to stop contemplating death for a while and start enjoying life. Then, it starts again… “You DO KNOW you’re dying right?!”. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHGH. We’re all bloody dying, why is it just me that has to think about it all the time?

Do I cry at night when there’s no one there to hear? Yup, as quietly as I can so as not to wake up Dee and Ivy. Am I shit-scared of dying? Yup. Do I sometimes cry so hard that snot & tears pour out of my nose, dribble down my chin and soggying up any nearby sleeve, collar or random bit of fabric? Yup. How did that snot get on my glasses? Dunno, it just seems to get everywhere. Sometimes I have to turn the pillow over, not for the cool clean side but just for the side that’s not soaked with snot and tears. Imagine your own funeral much? I can’t help it. Whenever the topic of death comes up, my mind goes instantly to thinking about my own death. Imagine your future but without you in it? That’s not fun.

 


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