As mentioned in my previous thread, I am pootling along doing a swifter withdrawal than I'd like-
am now at 0mg having gone from 15 from 30.
my partner works at sea for 5 weeks on, 5 weeks off. due to bad circumstances on both sides,
we had not seen each other properly for more than a day since autumn. so having waited a
loooong time, we were very excited to be reunited this week. alas, the timing of this could've
been better!
usually I go all out to make a real effort with clothes, appearance and the like when I see him.
due to the itchy rash, I had to bite the bullet and let him see me, au naturel, ahem.
notwithstanding him having to freeze due to the need for flat temp to be kept cool to stop
the itching, we had a rather Victorian bed arrangement. me on top of duvet in thin sheet,
him under it. not good for cuddling!
but the worst is yet to come, sigh:( within an hour of him walking in the door, I was struck
down by the mother of all diarrhoea attacks. now I am not a 'windy' person, and I would
rather DIE than do this in front of him! it being a small flat, there was no hiding this,
even in the bathroom. it just would NOT stop. I sat on the loo crying, and muttering
'oh god. oh god. not tonight. nooooo!!'
I looked deeply sexy in loose clothing and slippers, anything tighter making the hives erupt.
shared baths were a no no, due to me needing it cool. London is not warm yet and he had
just come from Africa lol. he suffered.
he suffered even more when the random irrational snapping started.
'you must be glad now I am here, as the cat won't wake you up in the night?'
'what are you saying!!! I love that cat! he was here when I needed him, YOU
weren't!'
poor man looks completely bemused and says 'okaaay?!'
the whole visit was an unmitigated disaster, and it is all Cymbalta's fault:)
however, we are still together. he must love me!!
