Just a funny mail
I have written the mail below somewhere beginning 1999 and put on Dutch ME-Net, but I actually had written it earlier to my email-friend:
Recently I had a depressive mail, now a funny one. Can you see how quick it can turn with ME-patients, sometimes even within an hour (at least with me). Before you start reading it first a bit information: 1. to see if rivotril and sinequan really works and not just a coincidence I quit taking it a couple of days, of course after consultating my gp. Just to see if I would sleep without and what it will do with my muscle spasms, if they would become worse. The tablets would still work for about 2 days. And as you can read below this is about right, the first time I still slept reasonable, as for the second night... well read on. The third night I have slept reasonalbe, but this can be due to a bottle of fruit-champagne (mmmm). The muscle spasms by the way get more and worse, so tonight I start with the tablets again. Besides all small things that make life easier are taken along. 2. The guys I an talking about are Tim and Linda. The letter below was written to them (which they have received yesterday and I already got a nice letter back from them in which they have introduced themselves again so I know their names again), but because it is so funny I also put it here so you guys have something to smile about. 3. You have to know that I absolutely can't tolerate any music at all, I get extremely sick of it and it's just like it draws all my energy away (and that tiny bit I've still left I need to write emails).
Oh what a night (20 - 21 February 1999)
Second night I haven't taken rivotril and sinequan and I think it's slowly worked out. I went to bed at 23.30h because Henk was tires, I wasn't after our nice phone conversation. At one point I had to think about Poesje again all the time, shit, try not to whine, must think at something else. Shall I stand up and put on some music real loud. Yes, I'd like that. Oh no, then Henk will be woken up. Poesje why did you cross that street? Yak, I want comfort. Have to call mom tomorrow that she brings me a bottle of alcohol, mustn't forget that. Shit I want comfort. Shall I stand up and make a cup of comfort (coffee, fake-coffee, oh well it's still comfort) and then go lay in bed in the living room. Think, think, finally after a long time: oh go to hell, what difference does it make how I will feel after walking so... ingeborg stands up, walks wobbly-wobbly from chair to closet to wall etc to the kitchen, gets the water boiler, puts water in it, grabs a cup, damn where is my coffee, shit, I am exhausted, I sit myself down on a chair in the kitchen and rest for awhile, little while later I am on my feet again and look for my cup of comfort, where is that damn coffee, fuck I can't find it anywhere, chair!!!! Sit-sit!! Damn how I get back to my bed and I still have no coffee, I WANT COFFEE. I dripped off to the bedroom, no coffee, wobbly-wobbly from wall to closet to chair to bed. Ooooh how sick I feel, damn again a soar throat on the left-side, fuck also my right-ear and oh what a fucking headache. And my legs, well legs, oooh how they hurt and how heavy they are seems like lifeless strawberry jam. Will quick pee in the bottle before I can't manage that anymore. Boohoo Poesje, boohoo, whining, crying, blubbering, sniffing in handkerchief. About an hour later I am a bit calmed down again. Will pee in bottle again before I can't manage that anymore. Oh how exhausted I am (paralysing tired, you know), shit muscle spasm, shit again muscle spasm, fuck take a breath ingeborg stupid bitch you forget to breath again. Well, that was a small epileptic seizure, should rivotril be worked out. Try to get some sleep, damn Poesje, don't think about her, thing nice stuff, what?, yes I know the phone conversation with those nice guys what are their names again and what did we talked about, damn it's so foggy here, you don't see a thing, where is my data-bank, damn they surely took vacation and even forget to let know, the asswholes. But what was I looking for, o yes that phone conversation with those dear friends to make me sleep hopefully. Damn I don't know anymore, that's what you get with that persistent fog, well then just try to sleep like this. 04.00h, 05.00h, 05.30h, 05.55h. What do I hear... TSJILP TSJILP Shit Mauke has captured a small bird. Whisper-whisper Henk, I think Mauke has caught a bird, go rescue him. Gruh, growl-growl, will check later, snore snore. Well then try to ignore and try to sleep. TSJILP TSJILP Mauke no let the bird be. Poor little bird, shall I rescue. Oh boy will my legs manage that, those strawberry jam legs. Well it has to, can't leave little birdie on it's own. So out of bed, more wobbly-wobbly from chair to closet to wall to kitchen, where is the bird, bad Mauke. Hey no birdie, oooh that's outside the birdies wake up, brave Mauke, sorry about what I thought about you, you are a sweet kitten. Meanwhile I sit still/again on the chair in the kitchen, I can't get back, shall I wait till Henk wakes up and that he then brings me to bed in my wheelchair. Yes but it's only 06.00h, what time does he wake up, I can't sit waiting on that, where is that damn coffe. So I pull myself together again and stumble-stumble from wall to closet to chair to bed. Finally I lay down, oooh shit more nauseous, again that damn soar throat, oh no akso again mt right ear and oooh my head and my legs, now they feel like melted ice-crean (ice-cream is tasty, but I can't reach it). Real quick peeing in bottle now I still can. Lying-lying oooh am sooooo exhausted. Shit muscle spasm, oh not again, yep again a muscle spasm, luckily this time I don't forget to breath, that was again a little one, should rivotril really be worked out. Who were those dear guys on the phone again, that sweet girl of that boy who also lays in bed, what are their names again and where is my data-bank. Boy of that sweet girl who always lays in bed, if you see my data-bank please sent them back home so I maybe remember your name and the name of that sweet girlie. Must try to sleep, a new day is coming and mine isn't even over. 07.00h, 07.30h, 08.00h ahhh finally fell asleep around 09.00h. Shit 09.45h Henk awakes, am still so exhausted, want to sleep. Finally stood up at 13.20h, have slept a bit but woke up the whole time, maybe I will get some sleep later on. Oh boy mom will come soon with food and I am so exhausted, damn visitors. That reminds me of a Dutch song. HELP I am getting nuts, shall I put on some loud music and wake up the whole neighbourhood. I mustn't think of all that noise, but nevertheless I would like that a bit. By the way I have had already 2 cups of coffee (fake-coffee, no peep Douwe Egberts coffee). Well dear guys, if I am able I will call you after the visit, that is if I can find my data-bank so I'll know again who you are.
Even if I can't remember your names, a lot of love and kisses of me, my body (what's my name again... hello boy behind the computer what's my name. Boy behind the computer: ingeborg. Oh yes ingeborg. Well greetings from me, ingeborg that is, sleep well.
PS Everything written above is how it really has happened / I thought. Luckily I have meanwhile a part of my data-bank back and so thanks to the mail from Tim and Linda I do know their names again. However what we have talked about I still don't remember, but well this way you can keep telling each other something "new" over and over again.
Greetings and strenght, ingeborg (oh that boy begind the computer is Henk - my dear boyfriend).