Monthly Archives: March 2013

Home management tips for people with no energy


One of the most frustrating things about having long-term health problems is managing a house. If I had it my way, I would live in an immaculate palace. The surfaces would gleam, rooms would be tidy and the air would smell of fresh spring flowers.

Sadly, this is not the reality. The amount of compromises you have to make in managing your health condition(s) can be huge and extremely depressing. It never fails to drive me nuts when I have to go through yet another illness period in a house that I am unable to clean. I’ve had to accept I can’t have things the way I want. I’m constantly compromising on the standards I would like to live by.

Ultimately, it’s about priorities and assessing what’s really important. Health has to come first, and if I don’t have the energy or stamina to look after the house, there is no point pushing through it because I’ll only make myself feel worse. In the past I would make myself completely miserable by saying things like ‘I’ve got a messy, dirty home. I’m a complete failure as a human being.’ This just made everything worse. Not only did I have an illness that wasn’t my fault, I was calling into question my whole worth as a person!

Over the years I’ve learned to give less of a fuck about housework and stuff. I’ve also devised a few methods of creating the illusion that the house is cleaner than it actually is. Here are some of my top tips for home management when your body is ravaged by shit that’s out of your control.

1) Accept that you can’t have things exactly the way you would like. This can be difficult, but I re-frame it as ‘I’ve chosen to put my health first.’

2) Establish what you cannot compromise on and prioritise this. For me it’s having the dishes done and making sure the bathroom is clean.

3) Think about what you notice when you go to other people’s houses. I don’t go in looking for dirt and dust. I notice whether a house is comfortable and homely and whether I feel relaxed there. I do notice when a house is super clean and spotless because I feel slightly uncomfortable and like I might get in trouble if I make a mess.

4) Dust is unpleasant, but look hard at where it really accumulates. I’ve noticed that you can only see it on glass, the TV or dark surfaces. So I dust these more often and leave the rest. You will be surprised at how many weeks, or in my case months you can get away with not dusting white surfaces or pine wood.

5) Changing pillowcases once a week gives the impression of a fresh bed without having to destroy yourself changing sheets and duvet covers as well.

6) Keep all plants well watered and attended to. Nothing says trampy home like a wilting or brown-leaved pot plant. A house full of thriving greenery gives the illusion you are more on top of things than you actually are.

7) If you have piles of stuff that needs organising, sorting, sewing or dealing with, hide it in a cupboard until you are able to tackle some of it in small chunks. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ is possibly the greatest saying applicable to my home management approach.

8) If there are any areas of the walls needing attention, such as patches of dirt, damp or peeling wallpaper, just cover them up or hide them with pictures and furniture until you have the strength to tackle things head-on.

9) Keep a handful of Sympathy or Get Well Soon cards stashed in a drawer. If faced with a prospective visit from people you feel may judge your living situation, whip them out and write them to yourself. Explain that you have been too ill to sort the house out. You must have been if people sent cards!

10) Assess how much guests need to visit. I’d love to invite people more often, but I find it hard to relax when I haven’t been able to clean or tidy the house. Sometimes it’s just easier to go to their house or meet elsewhere. If you haven’t been to my house for a while, or ever – this is why!

11) Buy clothes that don’t need much ironing. I live in soft, stretchy materials and actually can’t remember the last time I ironed anything. If you have to wear shirts, iron only the collar and cuffs and put a top over them. Never, ever iron bedlinen. The creases drop out overnight anyway. Or put a throw over the duvet cover if any residual creasing remains.

12) Assess your laundry situation. Do things need washing all the time? You may think they do, but give them a sniff and you might change your mind. Anything that is not directly in contact with your body can be left for a lot longer than you think. I like a layered look, so I’ll wash a t-shirt and leggings I’ve worn, but not the dress I had over the top.

13) Assess how much shopping and cooking you need to do. It’s a long-standing joke that I eat at the carvery on Tuesdays and Fridays every week. Much as I enjoy a carvery, it happens mainly because I don’t have much energy to shop and cook. The carvery is also a lot cheaper than it would be to buy roast dinner ingredients (£4.19) and it’s a relatively healthy choice. Shopping and cooking also results in washing up; yet another chore which I’ve managed to wipe out with this arrangement. When I do shop, I opt for quick to prepare, healthy items. Then if I’m too fucked to make a meal, at least I’m looking after myself as best I can. My favourite go-to choices are Uncle Ben’s Express Wholegrain rice (microwaves in 2 mins), ready cooked prawns and ready to eat smoked mackerel, salad, tons of fruit – especially chopped fruit salad, vegetables, houmous, natural yoghurt, nuts and seeds, oat cereal bars, fresh soup, rice cakes/oat cakes, Innocent smoothie and muesli.

14) Only hoover the bits of floor you can actually see. Don’t move heavy items of furniture to hoover underneath. Refer to the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ philosophy.

15) Use lamps instead of overhead lighting. Low light = less visible dirt.

16) Change your expectations of yourself and the timescales you give yourself to complete tasks. As I mentioned in my previous post, ‘The Power of Small Goals’, I am a bugger for having lofty and unrealistic ambitions. This also extends to what I’d like to achieve at home. If you would like everything in your cupboards sorted out, as I dearly would, don’t expect you can do it all in one day. Divide up the jobs into manageable chunks and pick one or two at a time. Chip away at the ongoing jobs and you will be surprised at how satisfying it can be to reach a small goal.

17) Open windows daily, even if it’s Baltic outside. It will freshen your home and hopefully blow some of the dust away.

18) If you are too ill and fucked to do anything, it can help to think of the ‘bigger picture’. I remind myself that in the great scheme of things, having a clean and tidy house isn’t that important. I’m pretty good at assessing how much I can realistically do now, so if there is limited energy, I’d rather spend it on doing something more interesting instead.

If any of you have any more tips I could add to my list, please rush them to me on the immediate!!


The power of small goals


I’ve always been someone who likes to set goals. They are usually big, if not grandiose and cover all aspects of my life. The timescales set to achieve them are just as ambitious.

I’ve always thought you can achieve anything if you put your mind to it. I think it’s important to know what you want out of life and live to your full potential.

I think this ties in with being a perfectionist. I’m someone who pushes themselves to the extreme.

I’ve achieved a lot in life, but one thing that’s always annoyed me about myself is that I think the goal setting is enough, without planning how I will achieve said goal. I have vague ideas and will generally head in the right direction, but find it hard to work out a logical plan showing how I will get there.

I’m also not very good at accounting for life getting in the way.

Or accounting for whether the goals and timescales are realistic.

The goals are also in a fixed and immoveable state, and I find it hard to be flexible over what would constitute achieving the goal.

Then when there is no sign of me achieving the goals anytime soon, I beat myself up and feel horrible.

For the last 5 years, life has been very difficult indeed. For those who have not read my earlier posts, my Dad died suddenly and I suffered a period of severe Depression and Anxiety. My ongoing health problems (Neutropenia) were even more difficult to manage than usual during this time and just when the mental health problems began to improve, I got diagnosed with M.E.

For those who are not familiar with it, M.E stands for Myalgic Encephalomyelitis and is otherwise known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I can sum up the condition by saying it involves feeling totally fucked all the time. You have less energy than a corpse and your brain becomes enveloped in a thick invisible fog which makes it hard to carry out any kind of joined-up thinking. You are essentially fucked over in mind, body and spirit.

Although the official medical consensus was that the M.E resulted from a bout of swine flu, I’m convinced that it is the result of years of strain from severe Depression and Anxiety.

This period of bleak wilderness was largely defined by a complete lack of control over my moods, health and energy levels. I wasn’t too concerned about achieving the big goals I’d set up for myself, but it was devastating that I seemingly couldn’t manage even the simplest tasks.

It’s always been important to me no matter how incapacitated I am to achieve something every day, even if it’s just doing a sink full of dishes. I hate to feel that I’m just existing. It makes me feel like a useless blob of nothingness. I’ve never been any good at relaxing either; I don’t believe there is an ‘off’ switch anywhere in my brain.

There is no cure for M.E, but I was offered NHS support which involved attending a management programme. Through this excellent support, I started to see that my attitude towards myself and my unrealistic goal setting was actually making everything worse.

I was taught that the more I pushed through M.E, the worse it would get. It was unbelievably difficult to accept. I had to learn the limitations of my energy levels, assess them on a daily basis and not go beyond them. If I did there was ‘payback’, where I would end up fucked for days or weeks afterwards.

It’s only now, 2 years after diagnosis that I can accept it was the wake-up call my body and mind needed. I had to accept I was overloaded with stress and that my body had manifested this as illness. Any unrealistic goal setting, or doing too much had now become a punishable offence.

The therapist I saw during this time helped me see that I didn’t have to constantly achieve things at every stage of my life. She said I had achieved things in the past and would probably achieve things in the future, but for now, maybe I wasn’t able to achieve much.

I realised that if I was going to get through this terrible time, I had to completely change my expectations of myself and what I could realistically accomplish. It was difficult, because it felt like I was changing a fundamental part of who I was. I was worried I would become lazy without the grandiose expectations of myself and the desire to push through problems no matter what. I worried people would think I wasn’t trying hard enough.

At first it didn’t sit well at all. I was signed off work sick and too ill and exhausted to go out much. It seemed my body had came to a complete standstill. I was stuck in the house looking like shit, feeling like shit, surrounded by shit. The fact I had no strength to deal with any of it sent me mental.

There was no way I’d admit to how bad things were or ask for help. My partner knew obviously, but I wouldn’t ask him to do things in the house as I liked the way I did it better.

At heart I am a blitzer – if something needs doing, or if I start a project, I carry on until it’s finished. I sulked and felt bitter that I couldn’t blitz the house and the many other things on my ‘to-do’ list. I ignored the advice I’d been given and did stuff anyway, even though it wiped me out for a disproportionate amount of time afterwards. I wouldn’t do a small part of a job because it annoyed me to leave things unfinished. I felt a sense of entitlement that I ‘should’ be able to do what I want, the way I wanted to. So, for at least 6 months after the M.E diagnosis, I was in a weird state of knowing I had to change, but feeling unable to do so.

The irony is that part of my job involves helping people to break down tasks into small manageable goals. I’m very good at doing this with other people’s tasks, just not my own!

One of the main things pissing me off was that I couldn’t read books the way I used to. In the past I could finish a book in a weekend, but now it takes 6+ months. I have to keep re-reading the first chapter because I’ve forgotten what’s happened. I decided to try the ‘Quick Reads’ series, which were much shorter and manageable. One book I read was called ‘How to Change Your Life in 7 Steps’ by John Bird (founder of The Big Issue) He talked about the concept of tackling goals in 3% stages. It didn’t matter what the goal was, just estimate what 3% of it was and do that much every day.

I had a go, even though it felt silly. I wanted to re-organise the bedroom but was reluctant to tackle it in case I did the whole thing and ruined my energy levels. I deduced that 3% of it constituted the piles of shoes everywhere. Half an hour later I’d finished arranging them into hanging organisers and the floor was clear. The incredibly difficult part about this was stopping. I felt desperate to carry on with another task and it was mentally painful to resist.

The next day I made a pile of clothes for the charity shop. The day after I tidied some drawers. After a week I could clearly see improvements and I began to feel a sense of satisfaction with my achievements. It’s still not finished a year later because it needs decorating from top to bottom, but I know one day it will be.

Another area which bothered me greatly was the lack of writing progress. Everything had ground to a halt when my Dad died, yet I still hankered after the big goals. I wanted to finish a book I’d started, complete a home study course in freelance writing and become a published writer. My therapist suggested I write 100 words a day of anything and see where it went. I remember feeling almost offended when she suggested it; this seemed like such a shitty little goal which wouldn’t go anywhere. But in the spirit of John Bird’s 3% approach and the success of the bedroom project, I began to try. I started early drafts of this blog. I was so pleased when my first blog post came together, even though it took months to write. I realised that my goals connected with writing – to connect with people, engage with them and make a difference in some way, were happening as each post was uploaded. I got instant comments and feedback which verified I was on the right path. I’d been so focused on the elusive ‘publishing deal’ that I was unable to think flexibly about different ways I could achieve what I wanted with my writing.

I think I still have a long way to go. I constantly feel as though I’m having to un-learn everything I’ve known thus far. M.E is a thankless condition, but it’s taught me valuable lessons about listening to my body and working within my limitations.

I’ve learned never to underestimate the power of small goals. I’ve also realised there is a lot of enjoyment to be had on the journey towards goals. Now there are no deadlines, no timescales, just ideas, small steps and progress in the right direction.

A sense of perspective


How many times have you heard “There’s always someone worse off than you!”

I used to think there was nothing more annoying. You know it has a ring of truth, but it feels as though your own problems are being minimised or not taken seriously.

One therapist I saw for Depression asked me to grade myself between one and ten to show how bad I thought my problems were, with ten being as bad as things can possibly be. I settled for seven.

He told me he used to work in a psychiatric ward where people were so depressed they couldn’t wipe their own arses. Bearing in mind this new information, he asked me to score myself again.

I concluded that as I was in full control of my arse wiping and had never ever missed a wipe, then maybe I would be around five out of ten.

Some may say his approach was unorthadox or unprofessional, but I thought it was hilarious. I like straight talking and it gave me immediate perspective on my situation.

It’s important to take Depression seriously and make sure other people do too. It can be horribly debilitating and I’m not denying that. But sometimes I think it can be helpful to recognise that even though you feel terrible, it is entirely possible to feel a whole lot worse. I knew that the extremes of Depression could be hideous. I knew it from my own experiences, those of friends, people I’d met in self-help groups and from everything I’d seen, heard and read about on the subject. I thought I was pretty well informed on how bad it could be. But it was completely outside my comprehension that you could be too depressed to wipe your own arse. It boggled my already boggled mind.

With physical illness, I think it’s easier to gain this kind of perspective. I’ve suffered with Neutropenia for 15 years and although it is shit, I get a reality check every time I go to clinic appointments. I’m under the same department as all haematology related conditions and I’ve spent countless Friday mornings sat in the waiting room with leukaemia patients, counting my blessings that I don’t have cancer. Even when I was hospitalised, I could see from looking around the ward that things could be worse. No-one had any hair, there was a woman opposite whose leg seemed to have rotted and the lady in the next bed to me died overnight.

With mental illness it’s all hush-hush and to a large extent, invisible. You know it’s happening and that people are suffering, but because of the stigma surrounding it, no-one talks. It’s difficult to know or see the extremes of how it affects people.

The arse wiping revelation made me more inclined to appreciate how well I was functioning, even though I felt awful. I could see that there were levels of not being able to cope that I hadn’t experienced. It gave me the jolt I needed to appreciate what I was doing to help myself. I realised I was one of the lucky ones; I’d been able to get up, deliver myself to a therapy appointment and tell somebody what was wrong. There were times when I hadn’t been able to do that, but even the worst nadirs of my life were still met head-on with acceptable personal hygiene and usually make-up too.

You could even argue that the people lying in hospital beds with unwiped arses were not as bad as they could be, because they were still alive. They may be in mental hell, but they had found the strength to hold on and not kill themselves.

I think perspective can be gained in many way. From being told home truths like I was, or by going out and looking for it. I thought I’d seen and heard how bad Depression could be, but I clearly didn’t have the full story. I know it’s hard to look for perspective when you are depressed, but I think it’s important to try, or at least be open to it.

If mental health issues could be normalised in the same way as physical health problems, I think it would be a lot easier. It doesn’t matter whether you have a physical health problem yourself or not, we all know people who are suffering and it’s easy to see the ones who are suffering more than you. If mental health problems were out in the open, it would stop people judging themselves for having difficulties and feeling as though their experience is the worst ever. If everyone talked openly and honestly about how things really are, it would be much easier to place your own problems accurately on the scale.

Plus, if you ever did find yourself so depressed that you couldn’t wipe your own arse, you could answer the critics with, “Actually, there aren’t many people worse off than me.”

Medication Wars – The Patient Strikes Back.


I think I’ve made a monumental leap forwards in coping with my mental health issues over the last 5 years. However, during the last 12 months I felt like I kept hitting a brick wall in terms of making further progress. The thing with me is that I am never satisfied with ‘good enough’. I will only stop trying to improve my situation when I feel as though I have the best possible outcome. As far as I could see, the brick wall was the physical health problems I have – Neutropenia and M.E. I don’t think I have truly accepted until recently how utterly depressing and miserable it is to live with them. If the causes of my depression were on a pie chart, these illnesses would account for half the pie.

I knew I was not going to live a happier existence unless one or both of the illnesses was minimised to a smaller sized portion of pie.

In my last blog, I spoke of devising my own treatment regime for Neutropenia, which contradicted advice given to me by doctors. My way proved to be MUCH more successful *smug face*.

For the last 15 years, this has involved taking injections with horrible side effects, so that I can minimise my risk of infection and not die from said infections. I take the injections at weekends because they are so debilitating; if I took them in the week I would not be able to work. The side effects include nausea, vomiting, bone and muscle aches, headaches, exhaustion and an overall feeling similar to having flu.

When I first started to intercept the cyclic pattern of my white blood cell count, I took 3 injections every other weekend which gave it a massive boost. I stayed relatively well, but my weekend was obliterated. It was a less than exemplary situation to work all week, be fucked all weekend, then work all week again. I had to try and do all my chores, see people, maintain my relationship and chip away at my writing goals in the good weekend. I missed out on daylight, exercise, interaction, nights out, hen nights, weddings, christenings, shopping, parties and other events if they were on the injection weekend. I entered a book I was writing into a competition and won a weekend residential writing retreat, but couldn’t go on it as it was an injection weekend. There was no cash prize alternative.

As the years went on, my resentment and bitterness grew. About 5 years ago, I decided I couldn’t be arsed with losing whole weekends any more. I decided to conduct some further experiments with my medication and over the next 6 months managed to get down to 1 injection per weekend. I took it every Sunday and dropped working Mondays as I still felt bad the day after. So I was losing 2 days a week but at least every Saturday was my own. This was slightly better but it has been a bastard if I want to go on a trip, visit anyone or if anyone wants to to visit me. I can’t go away for a whole weekend as I’m ill on the Sunday and it’s a waste. I’m not up to having guests for the weekend because I can’t cope with them when I’m ill on the Sunday.

As bad luck would have it, a lot of my friends and family are not based in my hometown and it’s difficult to see them because of the weekend injection issues. Luckily, I only work in term-time and can see people in the holidays, otherwise I would go properly fucking mental.

I’ve estimated that since I got diagnosed with Neutropenia in 1998, I’ve lost approximately 1,200 days to feeling ill with injection side-effects. Then there are the actual illnesses and infections I’ve had on top. I was going to work out a separate figure for those, but calculating the first sum has broken my heart somewhat.

I’m now at a point where I can’t be arsed losing 2 days a week any more and feel up to another round of experiments and tweaking my medication. My doctors never inform me of any updates or suggest anything new, but thanks to the miracle of the internet and Facebook support groups, I am fully au fait with improvements in the world of Neutropenia.

It seems my U.S Neutropenic friends are able to take the injections I’m on in a very small daily dose, so small that the side effects are greatly reduced. This has been widely recommended and supported by the Severe Chronic Neutropenia International Registry, who are based in Washington, USA and are currently overseeing developments in treatment.

Sadly, these injections are not available in the UK, but that hasn’t stopped me trying to get my paws on this daily dose booty for about a year now.

I’ve been given the knock-back by five different consultants last year, who have refused to even look into it for me. One hinted at costs, but that seemed to be the only factor I could see which was realistically hindering my progress.

I was assigned a new consultant in January this year and finally, I seem to have found someone keen to support and help me with my medication issues. He concurred that there was no daily dose injection in the UK but offered to try and find a smaller dose of a bio-similar medication to the one I am currently taking. By the power of Google he found one in 5 minutes! But, the hospital wasn’t licensed to stock it so he had to put in an appeal to his managers.

Lo and behold, the entire haematology department is not shit and my request was authorised!

On Sunday, I had one of my new injections for the first time and I am glad to be able to share this special moment with you. The dose is approximately a third of my old injection, so I’m taking a risk in reducing my medication. However, all the improvements in treatment that I have achieved thus far were as a result of risk and experimentation.

I’ve still had side effects. But I managed to write a rough draft of this blog and clean the bathroom. This is a first for an injection day!

I’m excited and hopeful.

However, I won’t be stopping until I’ve got the drugs the Americans are on.

How to juggle health problems


I am laughing at my own title because I’ve made juggling health problems sound like something you can do after reading one blog post. It isn’t easy of course, but over the years I’ve learned a thing or two and I wouldn’t mind sharing some of it with you today.

Life can be a right bugger. As if being predisposed to mental health issues wasn’t enough, my body is also wracked with physical complaints. I was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder called Neutropenia in 1998 and then M.E nearly 2 years ago. Neutropenia is a condition where the numbers of bacteria fighting white blood cells (neutrophils) are very low. This means I am prone to constant infections and I’m unable to fight them off. I have to take injections which boost my neutrophils, otherwise I could end up seriously ill, or dead. The injections have terrible side effects and make me very ill too, but I have no choice other than to take them. The M.E invloves crippling fatigue, aches, pains and ‘brain fog’, where I am unable to think clearly. Lovely. Both are lifelong conditions. I’ve often wondered how far they are all interlinked. The neutropenia was deemed to be idiopathic (without known cause) while the M.E was apparently as a result of contracting swine flu.

I’m sure there are environmental and physiological factors at play which determined my susceptibility to these illnesses, but not one single doctor has taken into account the fact that they both appeared after the two major mental health crises I had in my life.

Without wanting to be over-dramatic, I did think it would be a miracle if I got out of these episodes alive. Lo and behold, here I am, but it seems my body is still bearing the brunt of the shockwaves. It’s proof, if any was needed that the mind/body connection is real and tangible.

If I am feeling bad, which is a lot of the time, it’s not easy to work out which of the issues is causing the problems. If I am physically unwell, I automatically feel down too. But sometimes when I’m down I think that seems to make me more ill. It’s a bit of a chicken and egg situation which is hard to separate.

Sometimes it causes more trouble that it’s worth to try and pick out which illness is causing the problem. Better to just accept that I feel shit and see what I can do about it.

My approach to the problems I face is to always keep trying to improve my situation by whatever means. I’ve made huge advances in controlling my depression and anxiety because I’ve had them the longest and been able to try so many different approaches. Ultimately, if you make it a priority to live the best life possible under your current circumstances it can be very empowering. In my experience, there is always something you can do to improve how you feel. I’ve struggled a lot with the Neutropenia, as it’s a rare condition and doctors haven’t known the best ways to treat it. I’m still chipping away at controlling it because I don’t think I have the best outcome I could have yet. The M.E has been a real kick in the teeth as it seems to follow it’s own rules and I’m still learning to fathom its mysterious ways. I know that as time goes on, I will be more able to decipher its patterns and behaviour.

The main challenge of living with multiple health problems is that no one doctor will oversee the whole of your care. I see separate consultants and specialists for each condition, so until we develop a more holistic healthcare system, I’ve decided to be my own doctor.

Yes, a doctor has studied at medical school, but I can access much of the same information they can through the library and the miracle of the internet. Yes, doctors wear white coats but that does not mean they are clever. It means they are stupid, because it’s very difficult to get blood and guts out of whites. It would be way more practical to wear maroon or navy.

Only I can know how things feel for me and how my health problems are interlinked. Plus, I’ve got more time than they have to research rare blood disorders and think creatively about how to manage them.

Every single improvement I’ve made in living with Neutropenia was as a result of my own intervention and suggestions and NOT because of anything a doctor did for me. I’m sure they are much better at dealing with more common problems, but if I had followed their instructions I would still be in and out of hospital and seriously ill. I took it upon myself to experiment with the timing of my injections and would you believe it, I did a better job than they did. My neutrophil count is cyclic – which means it goes up and down, usually in a 3 week pattern. I was told to take the injections when I started feeling ill, but that was already too late. The decline of neutrophils, along with increasing infection meant that the injection was similar to shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted. Yes, they might have stopped me dying but I had fuck all quality of life. I decided it would be better to intercept the neutrophil count on the way down, before it went too low and an infection appeared. I approximated that this would be every 2 weeks. I suggested to the doctors that maybe 3 injections over 3 days at this point would massively intercept the process and bring my neutrophils back up. It did. Within 3 months I had stopped getting severe infections and could resume my daily activities. My consultant declared that I now knew more about Neutropenia than he did.

It’s a mistake to think doctors know everything and know what’s best for you. In my experience they don’t, and you should be careful about handing over your power to them.

As I see it, we don’t have a choice about what happens to us in life, but we can choose what we do about it.

My health complaints have buggered up my life in so many ways and caused me so much grief. It was a massive effort to think about trying to change anything for the better when I was flat on my back in bed after being fucked over by my mind and body yet again. But if I didn’t, what would be the alternative? I don’t want to be depressed and ill forever and miss out on life. I know there are some conditions which you can’t do much about. I’m certainly not advising that people alter their medication or treatment without carefully looking into it and considering all the options. It’s the mindset of change and improvement I am promoting.

No matter what cross you have to bear, ask yourself honestly – have I done everything I could to realistically improve my situation? Are there other options besides the ones that are right in front of my face? Of course, there comes a point where you have to accept you have done all you can. I know I can’t eradicate my health problems completely. But I can take responsibility for them and not expect the NHS to come up with all the answers.

In next week’s blog – read all about how I challenged doctors AGAIN and got results!!