I am dreading going back to work on Tuesday. I've been doing various psychological exercises, some art, (will post photos as soon as I can locate camera borrowed by daughter) and a heck of a lot of wondering why on earth I am here. Found out yesterday I had reached the limits of various funds on my medical aid from my little jaunt to the loony bin. (It's true what they say: money can't buy happiness but you sure can get to be miserable in comfort!) Had I known how much it would all cost I might have opted... um... some other option, but let's not go there.
Now follows a round of motivation letters from doctors, treatment plans, progress reports, "ex gratia" submissions - man, I've gone from being an eccentric but fairly normal person to being a 'case' about whom various reports are being written, faxed and emailed around. (What are they saying about me? Is it time to develop paranoia too?) ;)
One day at a time is the order of the day.
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