So, tomorrow is physio day again and I am, predictably, not looking forward to it. This is the appointment I’d been thinking about cancelling since I got on the bus back from CA last time.

For a quick recap, the last time I was at physio, Physio G berated me about needing to use a wheelchair, denied that the major symptoms of joint hypermobility syndrome existed, and did his damnedest to insinuate that I was a big lazy failure. He then handed me a huge pile of literature about alternative medicine and lifestyle changes (Which boiled down to “lose weight”, “eat less”, “exercise more” and I quickly worked out that as someone who was clinically underweight, couldn’t afford more than one meal a day, and spent as much free time in the water as was physically possible to keep my strength up, it didn’t apply to me) whilst telling me that he was the biggest sceptic ever born, and sent me on my way.

Since then, I’ve physically gone downhill a little bit. Funnily enough, being thoroughly demoralised about being a drain on resources isn’t the most motivational thing in the world, and my swimming and exercise regimens have, commensurately, dropped off.

It’s now 02.00, the appointment is at 13.00, and I don’t think I’ll sleep before then.


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