The 15th of January.
My body decided to override the steroids, so I managed a tiny lie-in (by that, I mean that I woke up at eight instead of half six) and feel much better for it.
This afternoon, I had liver clinic. We saw Monica and Jane who both felt the need to stroke my coat as soon as they saw me. Whenever I wear my fur, people want to stroke me. I don’t mind; it’s a very soft coat. James was running a bit late but not too much, and he was very pleased not to have seen me over Christmas. He doesn’t want me back until March! When we got home, I got Mommy to push me round to Greggs for a gingerbread man as they made them on the Bake Off last night and I had been craving one ever since. It was good.
This evening I had an Old Hallfieldian Society meeting, and it went really well! It was a bit longer than usual (two hours!) with only six of us there, but one of the most productive we’ve ever had, I feel. Tim Venner gave me a lift home, only for me to discover when we were nearly here that he lives in Solihull! Bless him.
Got home at half eight, ate my fishcakes off a tray on my lap and watched the Bake Off on delay. I hope my brain winds down before bedtime.
The 16th of January.
Today has not been what one would call productive. I woke up at half seven from a horrible dream in which I was on my actual deathbed. I had my family around me and we all knew I was dying and everyone was crying, and I wasn’t ready yet – I remember saying “I haven’t written anything for my funeral yet”! It was grim.
All I did this morning was decide which birthday cake I want – it’s one from the Gü book which we haven’t made before, but everything else we’ve made from there has been tasty so I’m not worried.
I spent my afternoon in Bad Apple, having my hair dyed and cut. James and I did a little experiment with mauve, and now it’s sort of a lilac colour. Bit softer, messier. The mirror is a constant surprise. My face is getting too moon-like for my liking but it’s necessary. I hate looking like this but it’ll only be for a few more months. That’s what I keep telling myself.
I’m exhausted tonight – definitely having lorazepam. I need a big sleep. A really big sleep.