The 9th & 10th; It was agonising.
The 9th of June. I was wrong about thunderstorms meaning it would cool down. Still kind of disgustingly warm most of the day, but right now it's bearable. The kittens are too sleepy to do anything but loll around, yawning.
This morning, I wrote up a blog post and wrapped Daddy's birthday presents. I have been sensible this year and got him box-shaped gifts which make for much easier wrapping.
I was at Black Sheep this afternoon, getting my hair re-purpled. Started at 1.45, finished at 4.30. Still, there are much worse ways to spend an afternoon - chatting with lovely people, reading Animal by Sara Pascoe and getting my head massaged. That part always makes me want to just close my eyes and have a nap.
Once I was successfully mauve, we were done as I didn't need a chop just yet. Daddy and I had been considering a cinema trip but decided against it as today was going to be the only good day for gardening. This turned out to be the right move because we would've booked for the 3.40 screening which we would not have made.
Becky and James have just been round, saying hi to the fat kitties and collecting the tv that we've bequeathed to them. We mainly discussed that joys of kitten poo, especially in this heat. Splendid.
The 10th of June.
The weather is as bleak as my mood. Dark, grey and rainy. The scan at the Women's was an ordeal. Again.
I had a horrible night, dreaming of a fictional serial killer. Lots of podcasts were required to distract my brain so I could go back to sleep. This morning I made the last orang-utan leg, which was one small victory - I no longer have to do any more fur stitch!
The ultrasound appointment was twenty past three, and I was supposed to finish drinking a litre of fluid an hour before that, which I dutifully did. We arrived extra early because it was visiting time, but parking wasn't a problem. This turned out to be fortuitous because the lid hadn't been on my water bottle properly and it became apparent that I had a very damp leg. This meant we spent a good ten minutes emptying my bag and spreading its contents all over the back of the car.
I didn't have to wait long to be seen, and the first part of the scan, with the full bladder, was done pretty easily and quickly. Then I was allowed to pee, and had to return for a transvaginal scan which I had not been warned about. I had to strip from the waist down and lie back with my knees up while the technician tried to insert the wand. Obviously, it was agonising, and she persisted for what felt like forever without success. A consultant had to be fetched, who deemed the first pictures "too blurry", so I had to refill my bladder and be scanned again. 1800mls of freezing cold water later, I was feeling incredibly full and uncomfortable. Better pictures were obtained, once she located my elusive right ovary, and we left with me resenting my stupid body for not being able to accommodate medical implements. It's like my body's saying "Even if you could have children, you couldn't get them out this way!"
