All about me

My story

vicky at pc gif My name is Vicky Stringer, I'm currently 30 years of age and I live in the United Kingdom; Swinton to be precise.
As you can see from my '100 things list' I used to have many interests, from wing chun to theatre to the simple pleasure of savouring a good book (sci-fi or fantasy of course) but though my interest in these things hasn't waned, my ability to follow up on these interests has.

You may wonder what prompted me to go to all this trouble. It is a lot of information, and I'm not a web designer. The reason it's such an interesting mix of colours (I hesitate to use the word 'foul' in conjunction with my work) Is that I have a friend with Retinitis Pigmentosa (night blindness) and these are the colours he sees best - I figured there may be sufferes of CFS or friends and family of sufferers who also have difficulty reading the more well known resource sites and so this is the design I have created. at some point I hope to have alternate colour schemes and backgrounds to choose from but for now, this is it. I became interested in using html through my first blog, being able to change the template fascinated me, which meant it changed quite frequently in the first year I had it.. I kept putting off doing an actual course for various reasons, first of all I didn't have the time because I was always working, then I couldn't afford to stop working to study.. Same old vicious circle.

Up until around the time of August 2004 I was working by day in a call centre doing 40hrs a week (plus overtime) and by night I was working as a bouncer averaging another 20-30hrs on top, none of which figured in traveling time between the 2 jobs and home.
Besides which I had a hectic social life and still managed to squeeze in a 2 hr wing chun lesson every week.

I was a busy gal.
I'd noticed I was getting tired for a while, I'd find that I was catching myself dozing off at work and that it was a struggle to concentrate fully on the things I was supposed to do - making lots of stupid mistakes, that kind of thing, but I put it down to the fact that I was doing too much.

Since my diet consisted mainly of takeaways and nourishment drinks and I averaged about 3 hrs sleep a night, it came as no real surprise when I became ill with a throat infection. On average twice a year I've suffered with that kind of thing since a bad bout of glandular fever as a child, but this time I just couldn't seem to shake it off, on top of which I was just so TIRED, not just tired where I wanted to sleep or needed a sit down, but shaking, double vision, feeling sick and can't get out of bed tired.

Now I hate going to see the doctor and will always try and self-treat if I think I know what's wrong with me but after 2 weeks of this, it was obvious something nasty had a hold of me.

Trying to find out which doctor I was registered with was quite a task in itself but the NHS office finally came through and sent me his details - sadly it was one on the other side of manchester where I'd lived with my husband prior to the divorce (yes, I'm a divorcee, happens to the best of us I'm afraid) anyhow, My best friend came up from London and dragged me over there so I could get a sick note and something to put me back on my feet.

They tested me for glandular fever but the test came back negative as I'd expected it would - I don't think anyone can forget what having that particular illness feels like, then I was given a 3 month sick note.
This basically scared the crap out of me - I've never been off work for more than a week (apart from the time I was on crutches following a motorbike accident) and to be told that I need to take 3 months off while they do extensive tests on me made me think something REALLY serious was up - cancer/ brain tumour type serious. In hindsight I think he only gave me three months so that I'd have a new doctor by the time it was up - he really gave the impression of not wanting to have anything to do with helping me find out what was wrong - he said that he "didn't know what was wrong with me" and that he would rather I saw another doctor since I no longer lived in his cachement area. His whole attitude was one of disbelief - in every consultation he would barely look at me and just seemed interested in getting me out of his office as soon as possible, I'm sure he was delighted when he found out I'd moved.

Anyhow, with quite some relief and no little trepidation I changed Doctor.
After one consultation he raised the possibility of CFS (chronic fatigue syndrome) and referred me to a specialist - all of this happened within the first 2 months, so I guess after hearing many horror stories from other sufferers I should be thankful for such a speedy diagnosis.

I have periods of being almost normal again - days of being able to go shopping, travel to see friends, though it's been a long time since I've been well enough to go out dancing.. But on those occasions I feel like a like a fraud being off work - so many times I've wondered if it's all in my head.. But then I crash, the aches returned and I end up spiraling down into a deep well of self pity.

To understand what it's like to have this illness is impossible unless you've actually had it yourself.
It's not all bad, my quality of life has improved immeasurably, I eat well, I have time to spare for family and friends - though not always the energy to use that time. I've caught up on my reading, I'm learning to drive (during my good stretches) and I'm learning to live with it and not beat myself up about not doing any housework for days on end as I lay around in my dressing gown.

A lot of things have changed for me though, I used to be the one to whom various friends and relatives turned to in times of crisis, I was always sensible and organised and always seemed to know what to say, this is definitely no longer the case.

Even the way I talk to people has changed, I now prefer communicating via email or text because I can take my time to figure out what it is I'm trying to say, when I talk on the phone or in person I stumble and get flustered and end up sounding like a moron - which stresses me out; I'm not an idiot, I'm just ill.

The easiest way to describe my communication problems is to liken it to the lip reading deaf. For them a conversation can only take place if they can see the other persons face, if during a chat the other person looks away mid sentence, the deaf person will miss some of what they're saying and possibly lose the context of what's being said and this is how misunderstandings arise.
It's a similar thing for me, only instead of being deaf, I have lapses of concentration and when that happens it's as though I've lost sight of their face and so miss half of the conversation, it's not that I'm not interested or I'm not listening, it's like I 'forget' to hear them.
When I'm like this it's very tiring to talk to people because I'm having to really work at following what's going on - it also means I'm filling in the gaps myself and so the conversation I think I'm having sometimes bears no resemblance to the conversation other people think we're having. It's confusing and frustrating to say the least. I can handle being tired now, but it's taken me three years to accept that I have no control over this, there's nothing worse than feeling like an idiot.

I can no longer cope with stress. The second I have a family crisis or there is a set back of any kind that leads to me feeling any deep anxiety - I have a relapse, this means I have had to resign myself to never going back to any kind of work that involves dealing with the public, most of my work experience is in those fields and so I'm trying to learn as much about web-design as I can in the hopes that when I'm well enough to do more than potter about on my own site, I can maybe earn a living that way. I'm also turning my hand to beading, I hope to have items for sale on eBay after christmas and these will be featured in the 'beaded creations' link you can see over on my personal site.

Despite this illness I have learned a lot in the last three years, not just about web design and beading, but about myself. I've come to believe that everything happens for a reason and that something bad happening usually leads to something good - something really good in fact, serendipity is probably my new by-word.