The 5th of January.
I had a really good sleep, although some weirdly complicated dreams. One involved Victoria Beckham being a dog with glorious pink hair. As you do.
Decided to ring the dental hospital again because the ulcer on top of my tongue is making it difficult to eat stuff. Chewing is hard. Unfortunately, the usual receptionist (the very obliging David) wasn’t there and the guy today didn’t understand that I am special and they always squeeze me in. Then it turned out Mrs. Richards wasn’t even there, but John Higham was in this afternoon and he could fit me in because he is an angel.
I did a blog post, then continued with the crocheting of the blanket. I also went to say hi to the kittens after they all mewed at me while I was in the bathroom, and I ended up getting damp jeans because I sat on a bit of blanket that they like to knead and suck on simultaneously (I know, it’s disgusting, but they think it’s like their mum).
After lunch, we went up to the dental hospital and saw John, who looked at my tongue, and didn’t really want to give me another injection because it is just uncontrolled steroid into the bloodstream, once it leaves the tongue, so instead he’s prescribed this steroid paste stuff that I have to put on. I’ve been warned that it is gritty and gross but I’m sure I’ll cope. It can’t be worse than the sensation of vomiting up chunks of your own dead stomach tissue into your mouth.
The 6th of January.
My arm is stupidly, uncomfortably big. I can only just get a jacket on now. I really hope this venogram happens PDQ because I want to be able to wear clothes other than huge jumpers.
This morning, I went out with Shaki to meet a new fosterer. We spent about an hour and a half there with her, her husband, occasional cat-sitter (who will also be a registered fosterer) and current cats. One was not at all interested in investigating us, but the other one was in my jacket, scarf, bag and Shaki’s skirt. She was wanting much petting.
Once we’d gone through all the relevant information, we then made trips to Lee’s, Lydon’s and Pets at Home in search of the gastro food to tide our kittens over until they go on Sunday.
This afternoon, Daddy and I went to see Rogue One (finally). We were the only ones in there which is always fun, and it meant that I wasn’t annoyed by anyone else. The film was alright – I was almost irritated that it didn’t then go into episode IV with the destruction of the Death Star, but it was enjoyable enough. I liked the sassy robot.
This evening I’m trying the steroid paste for my mouth. It’s not so bad.