I had to make a gut-wrenching (pun intended!) decision this week. After taking 2 weeks of annual leave I was owed to bum around and try to take some control over this whole Crohn’s situation, I finally came to the (probably long-overdue) conclusion that I’m not fit enough to be at work.
I really like my job, and although there are aspects of it that drive me nuts and it is stressful, it is also very intellectually stimulating and energising and has occasions of absolute bloody joy. I have some amazing colleagues who are dear friends. And I don’t cope with boredom very well.
But the fact of the matter is that I work with people, some of whom are vulnerable, and part of my job involves making very big, life changing decisions for those people. With the crazed Prednisolone mood swings, I finally came to the conclusion that I am “not fit to practice” as they say. So for the first time in my life for reasons that do not involve having surgery, I’ve been “signed off”.
My manager has been very supportive about everything, so there has been no grief there. I saw my GP for a sick note today, and the first thing he said was “I was waiting for you to ask.” So no worries on any of that.
There just is an irony that in the whole time that I was being constantly physically sick with Crohn’s symptoms since the summer, that I actually only took three days off sick (all of which were when I was so dehydrated from being sick that I actually couldn’t physically stand), and what finally drove me off work on sick leave was not dealing with all of the Crohn’s nastiness, but the side effects of the bloody Prednisolone.
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