For 44 years, I was laid back/bordering on cavalier about my health. Literally couldn’t give a shit. Felt good or bad or whatever but never thought much about it.
The last 18 months I am just obsessively thinking there is something wrong with me but I’m also convinced I am making it up.
I feel awful but it’s just so linked to my mental health and I feel like my body is doing weird gas lightly shit to me. Just done reading and rereading old blood test results, and fucking cancer symptom check lists. Want to go to sleep.
I saw gp today about breast swelling and thankfully have breast clinic appointment on Friday. I really know it’s fine, but I’ve had a couple of weeks where I haven’t been ill and so I’m just annoyed to be back in this place again. The doctors appointment has of course triggered a whole loads of other physical symptoms which are very much not real ones.