The past five months feel like a blur. I haven’t been even a fraction of my true self since I first felt pain in the right hand side of my back in late March, turning out to be a kidney infection making me the most unwell I’ve ever been in my 32 years of life.

And little did I know what the aftermath would hold. Scans showing other issues and more blood tests than can surely be normal for an otherwise fit and healthy young woman. After tests and scans and more tests and more scans, the outcome seems to be an accumulation of polyps growing on the lining of my womb and also in my gallbladder. The answer? Fuck knows because that’s all I’ve been told. I’m waiting for referrals that could take months, I have no answers and an ever growing head of anxiety. And chronic fatigue? Yes, that may explain why I’m falling asleep on the couch every night at 9pm and after a days work have no energy to do anything else, but how do I navigate that? Do I just live with that forever now? Is there a way to manage it? I wouldn’t have a clue because I haven’t been told anything beyond “this is what you have”.

Oh, and then the most recent blood tests (repeated after they got lost by the lab the first time) have shown up on my NHS app as “abnormal” but I can’t speak to my doctor about it because she’s off until next week. So yet again, I’m left in limbo. Lingering with a head full of thoughts. So, naturally, I turn to Google. And there it is: confirmation that as human nature we expect the worst case scenarios. With a positive outlook and scrolling past “the worst”, what I’ve understood all appears to link together and explain quite a lot of what I’m feeling. I’ve been told it’s “normal” to feel so unwell after my body went through trauma of such a severe infection, but this is anything but normal. Especially for me, usually so bubbly and energetic.

I know I’m going to be okay, nothing is life threatening but these past five months have been life altering in a huge and horrible way. I spend time desperately trying to process all the snippets of information from the doctors and reading into the lack of detail. Realising the reality that may shape my future. Tears and wincing in pain have replaced my smile and my smile, my most prized possession, is what I’m known for. It gets me in (and out of) trouble and has made me all of my friends in equal measures. But then I get onto that topic, where are they? It’s a natural part of ageing and growing up, we all disperse and spread our wings. We all have our own lives and that comes with our own issues and choosing how to process them. Friendships are forever there, but in the darkness it feels even lonelier without the physical presence of friends. Life is busy for everyone, but life feels particularly heavy and lonely right now.

The light of my life is my boyfriend – my rock, my confidant and someone who has grown to be my everything over the past two (ish) years, post divorce, as I’ve found my way in my new life. And someone I am lucky to share my life with, yet someone I am afraid to discuss the depths of my health issues with. Not only because he has his own issues, both physical pain and personal, deep set emotional dramas he is processing and the last thing I’ve ever wanted in life is to be a burden, but because I am scared to say some parts of it out loud. And, frankly, I am fed up of my life lately being overtaken by talking about how shit I’m feeling… all the fucking time. Besides, it’s all related to the female anatomy and things that I barely understand myself, so how would he understand? He has no answers or solutions and in his nature, he just wants to fix problems and this is one he can’t fix, so I choose to stay silent. So I go at it solo. Like the strong independent woman I strive to be, only now I’m lacking the strength. Any kind of strength.

Overcome with weakness in fact. And in moments of weakness, I weep. I question. I wonder. I search desperately for positivity and motivation but with a fuzzy head and pain in my abdomen, I struggle. So I wait. Trying to go about my daily life as normally as I can, but drained of all the energy I was once proudly full of. This can’t be it, surely?