Home Not-So-Alone

As I lay (sit? I'm propped up on pillows, so neither really apply) in bed with my ancient Macbook wheezing away at an acute angle on my knees so I can see the keys, I have to wonder what on Earth happened to this year and how I got into this position. I know that a large proportion of the global populace is wondering exactly the same things in this year of hell that 2020 has become, but bear with me and I'll explain what this means to me personally.

As a young 20-something I always felt like there was something I was supposed to be doing - there was a job out there that was my 'calling'. An unexpected diagnosis of eye cancer turned out to be the indicator that pointed me in the direction of Therapeutic Radiography - the treatment of cancer (and some other things) using radiation. I quit my job in retail management and enrolled on a three year, full time degree and qualified with a BSc (Hons) First Class award.

Fast forward 10 years and I am a Senior Therapeutic Radiographer with a heap of clinical experience who is dedicated to their job and the care of their patients. Unfortunately, a rare neurological condition that I had been fighting on and off for a few years raised its ugly head again and I had to have surgery to fit a VP shunt to keep the pressure in my brain steady. As usual, I had a phased return in order to ease back up to the full hours and duties required of me in an NHS Radiotherapy department.

This time turned out to be different; instead of getting gradually easier, I was finding it harder and harder. I was exhausted. After months of on-off sick and failed phased returns, I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. My employers and I tried everything - adjusted hours, adjusted duties, closer parking - but nothing helped, and with a global pandemic to contend with, things looked bleak. I went off sick with little hope that I would return and sure enough, two weeks ago my contract was finally terminated on grounds of ill health.

After 12 years of hard work to become one of the most experienced radiographers in my department and overcoming eye cancer (including losing my left eye), Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension, hearing loss in my right ear, chronic pelvic pain and depression, it was CFS that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

So here I sit (lie?), a 41 year old woman who is stuck in bed today because of vertigo, trying to make sense of a year that keeps getting worse on a truly frightening scale. I have to admit that it hasn't all been bad this year; I have a small business making custom and character themed dice boxes, chests, roll trays, and dice jewellery for Dungeons & Dragons players, and recently launched my own website and store. However, the pandemic did mean that what should have been the biggest convention of the year for my little side hustle - MCM Comicon at Excel in May - was cancelled, along with pretty much every other convention across the world.

Like millions of other people - including my husband - I chafe at being stuck at home. In his case, being a self employed profession has meant a drastic drop in income which only adds to the stress. Like millions of other couples we bounce of the walls - and each other - vacillating between apathy and boredom, desperately looking for DIY jobs and impatiently waiting for the weekly Saturday night zoom quiz with out friends.

There are those of us who are enjoying this state of lockdown; our two cats are thoroughly enjoying having both of us at home to provide endless circuits of petting and cuddles. And its these two furry a-holes that are keeping me mostly sane as I float from day to day, feeling utterly lost and worthless without the job - no, life - that I adored. Sure, there were days from hell and moments of heartbreak, but I always felt that what I was doing had purpose and meaning. The smiles and kind words from the patients warmed the heart and fortified the soul, but no more. Not for me. Not until I can get better.

My thoughts are with my colleagues on the front lines as they continue to provide the best care they can in a rapidly changing medical landscape. I hope to rejoin their ranks one day; but for now, I will paint boxes and teach myself computer coding, because you never know what fresh hell 2021 might bring.