One Thousand & Eighty Three

Theme: Tramadol

Aunt Irma is here and I had work. I went to work and made it through hand over. I nearly vomited three time's. I ended up being sent home. Certain people were pissed off. I could easily see why the nurse from the previous shift was annoyed because it meant she had to stay behind. However, a senior healthcare assistant came into the room just about to go home and asked me what was up. I told her I'm not feeling well, and that I usually take oramorph when I'm like this, but can't take it whilst I'm working, so I've just took tramadol (which no longer works). She just gave a bitchy look said "well" and walked off. I understand that I shouldn't have came in, however, if I called in people would be bitching, if I attempted to do the shift, like I did, and went home, people would be bitching. I figured I'd rather attempt it and go as long as I can. I'm just so useless. Never good enough. Fat fat fat. Ugly. Pathetic. Everyone hates you. Stupid. If she say's anything, which I know she will, I'll just say to her I would gladly give her the pain and do her shift's for her. At the end of the day, it's not as if I went home and got ready for a house rave. I went home and spent the night with my head down the toilet vomiting.

I feel so low.

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