Monday, 10th December:

So, my period hit, and I spent most of the last two days in my bed listening to my favourite podcast and watching a wonderful tv-show by BBC about Jane Austen’s “Emma”. The “Pride and Prejudice” show is next.

I had planned to go to Edinburgh today, as I think I mentioned, but I had to postpone that. As everyone does, I regret when I am unable to do things simply because of my health. And I often feel like I am wasting time when I recover. But that thinking is complete poop, if you don’t mind me saying that. It doesn’t matter how much time my body needs to recover or whether I recover from a cold or my monthly problem: I deserve to take all the time that I need to be well again.

And until then, nothing much interesting is happening, but I get to listen to my body and do whatever is best for myself. Today – maybe the first time ever – I decided immediately after waking up to stay home. Normally I take ages, convincing myself, if I just push my body hard enough, I will eventually make it through the day. I will get up, however horrible I feel, put myself into the shower and tell myself, that I am making my sickness up. Then I will stumble out of my house feeling like poop, but today, I did no such thing. I took myself seriously, texted my hiking friend, and instantly felt a tiny bit better in the sense of not discrediting myself. Plus, I should mention, she sent a really kind and understanding text as an answer.

By now, my pills are entirely working, and I get to enjoy my tv-shows fully. I am full of hope that tomorrow I will be running out and about again, ready for my last days here in Glasgow.

Sorry, if this post seems a little inappropriate… like something I should not speak about, but this is part of any kind of journey of mine (and any other woman’s as well), so I didn’t want to hush it up.

Hope, you are feeling a lot better than I am,

Mary