I have a good GP.

For the last few weeks I've had a strange sensation in my throat...a bit like swallowing something without having chewed it properly - like a potato chip that's too big. Or more precisely, it feels like I've swallowed a new potato which is very slowly making it's (tight) way down. Uncomfortable indeed.

The doctor thought he'd treat me for oral thrush (one pill) and told me to see him again in a week.

I went today for my follow up and explained it hadn't gone away, but that I also now experience that same 'new potato' feeling in my chest. Is that what heartburn feels like? It doesn't burn though...

Not oral thrush then. Am I stressed? How are things? Any issues? Anything else you want to tell me? All these questions from a concerned GP suddenly had me tearful and confused. Was there anything that was getting me down? Could it be that I'm lamenting the next stage of my life when Josh goes to kindergarten? Surely not. I'm looking forward to some "me time". What then?

He asked me if I was happy here. If I was fulfilled. What had I left behind in South Africa? What kind of lifestyle? Friends? Family?

I gave him a brief summary of my time since I've left SA, including all the travel I did with Ben, how we finally settled in London after 4 years traveling, how having my brain haemorrhage put a halt on things before trying for children. I told him how Ben loved life in London, but when Mia was born, it coincided with a lot of friends and family leaving London, leaving me more isolated and with less support. How we moved to NZ and had Joshka...what a wonderful family Ben has and how supportive they've been to us. I told him how I'd started writing (this blog) to try and find something funny or amusing or beautiful to comment on and how it helped me to get out of the dumps. I recognised then that I may have been a bit depressed, but this 'vent' seemed to help things. I thought I was doing ok?

I told him about the heavy legs too.

He told me that the reason he was pressing on with all these questions was that he had for a while suspected that I may be somewhat depressed. He wanted to know how long I had felt like this. He asked about my family- brothers and sisters? Parents? Have I resolved my feelings about my parents divorce?

Well. I sat there all tearful and confused, but a little relieved too. Perhaps he's onto something? And surely it will help to get some treatment?

He explained that like the legs on a chair, the most stable and therefore best solution would be to have four legged "plan" or approach.
1. Talk to a phsych (-iatrist? or -ologist? I never know the difference, but I guess I'll find out).
2. Do some excercise. This has been what has been keeping things under control for me so far, or as my GP said, "keeping a lid on things" - keeping things from boiling over. I've been really happy lately with my netball training and am glad to be part of this group.
3. Get some spiritual guidance/release. He was quick to add that he didn't mean religeon, but rather some creative outlet - painting or drawing or something to channel the creativity.
4. Drugs.

Number 4 being the least important overall, but important to start the ball rolling, to get the treatment going.

I was stunned.

The most scary thing about those 4 things, without a doubt, would be to talk to someone. And the stigma that goes with it.

He pointed out that if he thought I had a heart condition and sent me off to a cardiologist, I would have no problem with that. I agreed. He said this was no different: an illness. To be treated.

But if I go on these pills will it be for the rest of my life? NO! Is it cureable? YES!

It was long appointment. I'd actually made one for myself and one for Joshka, but Josh had long since fallen asleep on the floor and was sleeping peacefully, so it was a good thing to get all of this out in the open. Verbalised.

Once out there it's a bit easier to accept and to deal with. It's the doubt that it the hard part. So although I feel quite vulnerable right now, I am grateful for the time taken by this GP to get to the bottom of things. And with regard to the throat, it can also be a symptom and is quite common, of depression. That same feeling that hits you when you're watching a tear-jerker movie - a lump in the throat. Apparently...

Tonight Mia told me she loved me the most. "You're the best mummy in the WHOLE world mummy. I love you SO much. I like your hair mummy. I think you look pretty."

Earlier after coming home from the doctor she asked me: "Are you sad mummy? Why are you sad?" I told her I didn't really know why I was feeling sad, but that I was fine. When she heard that she wanted to know if I could read her the new library books they'd just taken out. It made me smile. My little gem.