The last time I blogged I was waiting to see if I would get my admission to the Royal Brompton down in London, after my previous admission had been postponed. Well I got my admission and I have been back home a couple of weeks. Haven't been on here much as lot happened during my admission. It wasn't a great visit, emotionally I was all over the place because I was offered Bronochial Thermoplasty and had a lot of think about. Can't say that I was offered a great deal of information or support whilst I was there over making a decision. Spent hours poring over the internet trying to find information and answers to the many questions I had (yes I know RBH should have told me, but with out going into a long story it wasn't forthcoming), spent a fortune talking to my family on my mobile (Our landline bill arrived this morning cor blimey, don't want one like that again, concerned hubby was also ringing my mobile). Came home from my admission emotionally and physically shattered, took a couple days out of thinking about what happened during my hospital stay, and decided to concentrate on something I was interested in.
Which brings me onto the title of this blog, tattoos I love them, always wanted one and have been looking into having one for ages. Hubby thought I would give up on the idea eventually, but me being the bloody minded so and so I am, I found a tattoo parlour with a highly experienced artist and so did the dirty deed last Thursday. And guess what hubby rather likes it, so I now have a dachie tattooed on my right arm. Of course it is still healing, but I am proud of it and love her (yes I have decided it is a her) just like my darling Lottie Daxie Dog. In fact having my tattoo has been a welcome distraction from my stressful admission to hospital. I am back in my world, in my comfortable place where I belong. I am me, I am Lottie's mummy and I am a wife.
Bronochial Thermoplasty is not for me yet, it is too much in its infancy, Bronochial Thermoplasty is offered to patients where all other options have failed. Brittle Asthmatics are considered to have a poor quality of life, and yes in some ways that is true, but for me I didn't feel that RBH were really thinking about me. That might seem a strange thing to say, I was offered no support or advice, they didn't really know me or what I felt about they way I live. I am glad that I have decided not to go through with it, I am glad I can be me again, feels like a weight off my shoulders, and possibly a place to put another tattoo :O)
Huggles to everyone Daxiemad and Lottie Dog