house of three corpses.

Casa Del Punk is in a bit of a rotten state right now, and not in an awesome punk rock “fuck yeah Johnny Rotten!” kind of a way either. We’ve all been lying around moaning with fevers, delirium, the shakes and feeling quite poorly, and feeling generally pathetic because we’re not getting on with it like we should be — I’m getting Ross to help every five minutes with Bea, and he’s looking at me like I’m being the biggest drama queen on the face of the planet, my mama is taking loads of time off and poor Miss Bea is trooping along with the worst elephant cough ever heard. We finally decided to go to the doctor yesterday at 8pm, all three of us. We trekked out the the after-hours clinic, which is a bitch at 70 bucks a pop, but we just couldn’t get it together for the day surgery.
So the results? Bea is the healthiest one of all of us, she has a little viral cough but is generally fine. My poor mama has cellulitis, some horrible tissue infection which is creeping up her skin at a rapid rate and making her hellishly delirious and sick. I had to draw a line with magic marker around her infection, if its worse tomorrow I have to take her to the hospital (God knows how, I can’t drive…) And me? I thought I just had a reoccurring case of tonsillitis, but I actually have glandular fever (mononucleosis) and may be sick for weeks. This, while it seems stupid, has actually made both of us feel a little better, because at least we know we’re justified in being pathetic – we’re actually very fucking ill!

Kissing disease.
This is my current morning cocktail, with another identical one at night and lots of codeine when needed. With my new doses of Valium and Epilim (mood stabiliser) included on top of my antibiotics, I’m sitting on a hefty intake of almost 20 pills a day. Let’s hope these actually do something besides just destroying my liver…..

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