The 25th of May.
Oh, God, I feel so awful. I didn’t fall asleep until past four am, so I had about five hours, but it was hardly of any reasonable quality. This is obviously not helping me feel any better, and my skin has decided to erupt so that’s good. I also have absolutely zero voice today – I can only whisper, no matter how hard I try.
I have been sat in front of the TV all day. I don’t have the impetus to do anything, and everytime I do move, I have a major coughing fit. So yeah I’m a mess.
In a tiny bit of good news, the blood pressure tablet I’ve started doesn’t seem to have inflated my feet yet.
The 26th of May.
I feel better having had some sleep. I took two Zopiclone and a nearly uninterrupted eleven hours of sleep. This has meant I wasn’t awake, coughing all night long, so my throat had a rest and doesn’t hurt so much today. I am hoping I feel the same tomorrow – to have improved again might be asking too much. Today has been very much the same as yesterday, except I had my hair washed.
It’s been on the news that a man has gone to Dignitas and the assisted dying debate has been reignited. In all honesty, I would like it to be legal. For purely selfish reasons. I know that I am going to need care for the rest of my life, and if it gets to a stage where my parents can’t take care of me, I wouldn’t put that burden on my sister, and I don’t have the funds to employ a full-time carer. I’d have nothing else to live for, so yes, I’d like to be able to have a lethal prescription that would end it. I can’t go to Switzerland, so a reliable set of drugs would be the best option for me. If I decide to go, I want to be sure that it’s going to work.