Bloody crap is the short answer. I suppose that title is a bit misleading if we’re going to be really nit-picky. To get all technical on your ass, I’m only on the cusp on anaemia so it only comes in waves, every now and then.
However when it hits, you know.
It feels ridiculous. You’re a young woman ready to take over the world; so why are you struggling to stay awake past 8pm? Why can you not get through a weekend without a sneaky nap? It makes you worry; you are literally sleeping your life away. You could force yourself to stay awake, and have adventures; but you know that you will spend half the time wondering if it is too early to sneak off. Because let’s face it you are bloody knackered.
You feel sick, you feel like your swaying on a boat. You want to moan, complain and whine – you want somebody to come and buddle you up in blankets and tell you that it’s ok, possibly presenting you with some sort of spinach bouquet. Instead people ask if you eat meat. You do? Well you must not eat enough of it.
Weirdly when I’m at work, I manage to mainly ignore the symptoms. If you keep busy, and keep a steady supply of caffeine, everything’s ok. It’s only when you stop. It’s when you have to cook tea, and despite it being your absolute favourite meal, the smell is knocking you sick. It’s when you sit down to scroll through Twitter, and hang on why is it dark? How has three hours passed when you closed your eyes for a minute. You’ve had 8 hours of bloody sleep; you should be full of beans.
Then there is always the fear. Is this another bout of anaemia, or are you (god forbid) up the duff? You spend an hour or two doing mental maths, and double checking that little packet of pills to convince yourself you’re not. When I first went to the doctors about not feeling right, he asked a bazillion times if I was pregnant, then insisted on a test. He was so convinced; he convinced me and being a sane and rational 18 year old I obviously rang the boyfriend at work to declare I was pregnant. Cool as a cucumber, obz. Apparently the symptoms of anaemia are pretty damn close to being pregnant, who knew eh.
I guess I’m writing this post, and having a moan because I’ve been suffering from an extra-long bout this time. However the boyf treated us to tapas this weekend, where I ate every meat imaginable, and coupled with iron tablets I’ve felt slightly better today. Its 10pm as I write this, sat in fleecy pyjamas and a towel turban (natural sex symbol, if ever there was one) feeling pretty darn proud that I haven’t yet tried to have a power-nap. It’s my blog and I will celebrate silly little things like that if I want. Even if writing that sentence, did make me feel a little bit like a three year old.
In an effort to end this blog on a positive note, there are some good things about anaemia. You learn to appreciate things, whether it is the ability to stand in a kitchen while someone cooks and not nearly be sick in your mouth. Or the feeling of getting into bed after dreaming about it all evening. You also have a perfectly good reason to never turn down a sausage butty, cos girl gotta get her iron.