The 5th of September.
I had a fairly decent night, awake on and off from half four until half-seven, when I got up. I’ve had to keep reminding myself that it’s Friday, not Saturday for some reason.
Katie the nurse came to flush my line this morning, and I haven’t seen her since the 1st of August so there was a fair bit to update her on! The line was fine, and Mommy and I changed our dressing. The scab has all come off and it’s basically healed now. So I shouldn’t need the dressing for much longer.
I needed to replenish my stock of sweets (I have a little big by my armchair that I occasionally dip into) and get some more bedding and sawdust for Hamilton, so Mommy took me up to Tesco, M&S and Pets at Home. A lady on the checkout in M&S asked who I’d been fighting with, and I could say “the floor!”
This afternoon I have been writing. I finished off a piece about anorexia, and I am part of the way through one about mobility (or lack thereof).
Tonight I feel weirdly fluttery! It’s like my heart is racing, but from taking my pulse, I know it isn’t. It’s not fun.
The 6th of September.
Today has been alright. My body’s been a bit sleepy – my brain wants to move, but my body just can’t be arsed. It’s an odd sensation.
This morning, I read the paper, did some blogging and some other writing. I finished the piece on mobility. At least, for now. It all will need editing. I keep having ideas for other themes to explore.
After lunch, Daddy and I went to see The Guest. If you’re looking for some gratuitous violence, a bit of dark humour and quite a lot of brooding Dan Stevens, you’ll find it there. It’s not a massively thought-provoking film, but it provides a good time.
I had to use Daddy’s arm to help me get up the stairs in the cinema, and my arms are still a bit boggy. My feet are requiring constant elevation to stay a reasonable size. I’m not sure why – we need to discuss this with someone on Monday. Have photopheresis, see another doctor.
Today I have been overloaded with Tom Kerridge – he was on Saturday Kitchen Best Bites, then Paul Hollywood’s Pies & Puds, then on Women’s Hour on the way home from the cinema. Having also gone through both of his books, I am now just beyond desperate to eat at The Hand and Flowers. I need to eat his food.