Decided last week I needed a haircut so booked an appointment for one last Friday at 3.30pm. It was going to be a test with my vomit OCD and dog dirt phobias, because I had the taxi journey there to contend with and then the long walk home. However, my hair needed doing and also wanted it done before going to physio the week after. I hadn’t got a taxi for about 6wks so this further heightened my anxiety, I was out of exposure practice.

The taxi journey didn’t go well. Usually I aim to get into the front passenger seat in a taxis(cos I reason there should be less contaminated), but due to how he parked I ended up getting into the back. I’d not been in the taxi for longer than sixty seconds before seeing some funny looking, possibly sick looking marks. I didn’t know what to do at this point, I just kept cursing at myself for getting in the back…’WHEN ALL THIS BLOODY PANICKING COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED IF I’D HAVE GOT IN THE FRONT’. My mind was spinning, my anxiety levels through the roof, and all I could think of was that this will be last time I’ll be able to use this hairdresser’s because I’ll have contaminated it after going in. This annoyed and saddened me at the same time because I’ve started to really like going there and get on great with the girl that does my hair.

The haircut went well, although at the back of my mind throughout was this feeling of contamination from the taxi. I was dreading going back home and maybe smelling sick on my jeans. After getting out of the taxi I saw I’d been sitting on another dodgy looking stain. I got home and duly told Mum all about it(God knows where I’d be without her right now). I asked her could she ring up the taxi firm and find out if it was something else hopefully other than sick. I then walked around around the block several times…having already walked about a mile from the hairdressers. Given my lack of exercise due to the severe pelvic pain I currently have, this is such a long way for me. The walking helped calm me down though, and I guess I was using it to delay finding out the truth about those car seat stains(AVOIDANCE). Oh and ashamedly as I walked back from the hairdressers over a motorway bridge, for a mini second, I did contemplate jumping off it….really. Then I thought to myself, DON’T BE SILLY, what if I fell and paralysed myself and then find out it wasnt sick…..it would my life over. I therefore kept on strong and after hearing what the stains actually were, boy am I now glad I didn’t do anything silly in my state of despair. The taxi man that day had driven some unruly kids and their Mother somewhere, and all the way there they were blowing bubbles out of a bottle, hence the bubbles popping and leaving stains on his seats……….PHEW. Now you could say that could be lies but the women in charge of the taxi firm on the phone has been amazing with my me and my taxi OCD fears, I believe this explanation.

I loved walking back from the hairdressers because it was a lovely day and it was nice inhaling the summer fresh air into my lungs. I also enjoyed the exercise, felt good to have worked up a sweat by the time I was home. I also enjoyed the walks around the block afterwards, even managed to see some dog poo and avoid walking in it without getting into a state. The problem the day after however was my back and pelvic pain, the walking after a sleep had left me in absolute agony.

So I wake up Saturday all stiff………….IN MY LOWER BACK AND PELVIS, I can hardly walk. By the end of Sunday I suddenly realised that by the end of that day I’d had about 250mgs of Tramadol in little bits to help the back pain. I usually have 100mgs daily of Tramadol and this helps the pain without stinging my sore ribs badly, or making me feel like a right nutter.eg depressed, on edge etc. Now I’ve had too much before occasionally in the past but I’d kind of forgot to be careful not too again……..it hasn’t happened in ages. Monday therefore was an absolute disaster, I felt terrible, awful. I felt soooooo tired, confused, disorientated, my OCD WAS THROUGH THE ROOF, I felt so on edge it’s beyond belief. I felt on the verge of tears all day. I had four showers due to feeling contaminated, and that’s a lot even by my OCD standards. I just felt completely worn out, both mentally and physically. NEVER AM I TAKING THAT MUCH TRAMADOL AGAIN, I’d rather suffer with the sore pelvis and back. Just need the physio help to enable me to take anti-inflammatory drugs again, as this would mean I could lessen the Tramadol. At the moment, I cant take any anti-inflam drugs without them stinging my ribs and making me feel very nauseous and ill. Today is Tuesday and although I am feeling less depressed and on edge, I can definitely still feel the after effects of taking too much Tramadol. I feel really drowsy today, can’t stop yawning and just got no energy whatsoever. It is just so lucky that my new big physio appointment is tomorrow and wasn’t today or Monday. The effects of taking too much Tramadol should be wearing off, indeed I think it has already started slowly doing so, thus leaving me to be able to cope better.

Tomorrow is therefore a very big day for me. After months of having scans and blood tests done, it’s all come down to this physio appointment tomorrow. The scans and blood tests didn’t show anything to explain my rib, shoulder pain and intense continual nausea, so I’m praying it is to do with muscle tightness .ie my ribs being too tight. A physio ages ago said my ribs were stuck and locked, so this is why I am holding onto this theory. I’m dreading it OCD wise, it’s going to be such a tough test for me. For example, going to somewhere I’ve never been before, so I don’t know as I write this, if it’s going to be OK contamination wise. I’m just praying I manage to cope and this trip does not blow up in my face. I need to go though because I need to try and get better and so get my life back. The alternative is not going and in twelve months time things being exactly how they are now………..and that’s desperate. Fingers crossed the physio helps and it then enables me to take the OCD medication, which frustratingly, I can’t do at present. Then I will encouraged to get more CBT help for my OCD. I just need the day to go well. I need to have been able to cope OCD wise and that the physio guy who I see gives me hope, hope for the future. For lets face it if the person in question does not have any hope left, then what really is the point of life itself?

Let you know in my next blog how this trip to the physio’s went.