The 7th of September.
Things are not so bad today. I was concerned this morning when I was still in pain every time I took a step, but this evening it is not so terrible. I have hope that tomorrow might be tolerable.
Not much action to report. Mommy was out with Grandma most of the morning, taking her to Good Hope to have her eye measured for her second cataract operation. I wrote up a blog post and did some crocheting – I’m making a scarf with some of the nice wool I got last Christmas. I also occasionally poked my head in on Rufus who was being very chatty. It’s been a long time since we had a cat who miaowed this much.
This afternoon, I’ve been planning what I’m going to say on Tuesday at the Anthony Nolan event I’m speaking at. I have to condense my diagnosis, treatment, transplants, life afterwards, Anthony Nolan’s part in the transplant and how I want the future to look into five minutes. I think I’ve got it down, I just need to see how long it takes when I say it out loud.
We’ve let Rufus out of the cage. It has not made him any less talkative and he keeps scratching the armchair instead of the post but I’ve been allowed to stroke him so we’re making progress.
The 8th of September.
Going to Trine about my back was certainly the right call – I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Harland next Thursday. Hooray!
It’s okay today; bad when I expect it to be, but I can get out of a chair and walk around without wincing. That probably won’t be the case when I have my appointment because I’ll have been in my wheelchair pretty much all day Tuesday and it will hurt. I was in a chair most of this morning, but it was at Black Sheep so I was comfortable. I was getting my colour touched up and was there from 10.45 until 2. It’s amazing how time flies in there. I read a decent chunk of The Bone Clocks and caught up with Apple’s announcement from last night.
When I got home, there was a message from the place Trine had referred me to, so I called them back and sorted out my appointment. Then they rang me back because they needed my NHS number so they can get my MRI results, so I had to run up the stairs to get a letter with it on, then I had to try to tell it to the chap while also getting my breath back. Not easy. I am so happy to know that soon we’ll have some answers. Then I ate my lunch and went to see Mr. Chatty Rufus. I made him purr! I tricked him by stroking behind his ears and he liked that. Didn’t want to be picked up though and I’ve got the plaster on my hand to prove it. Baby steps.