The 4th & 5th; That kind of gut-wrenching, painful nausea that you know can only end one way.

The 4th of August. I have been sat in front of the computer in the dining room all day. More tickets for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child went on sale at 11am. 

First there was some stress because Chrome didn't seem to be downloaded on Mommy's account on the PC, so we had to do that before anything else. We got in the pre-queue easily; it seemed from Twitter that some people were having a lot of trouble. It didn't matter what time you joined the pre-queue between ten and eleven; your place in the ticket-buying queue was a total lottery. We got number 38515. Some people I know got a better place, some worse. We just had to wait. 

After a couple of hours, we were able to deduce that we were going to be waiting until about eleven pm. Mommy had to take Grandma for her ultrasound, so I had to watch the screen. The website that I'm not on sold out just after half past one, so I was really glad Christine told us to use Nimax. 

To pass the time, I have been binge-watching Fringe (I have nearly two seasons to watch before it expires on the 14th) and crocheting the cookie jar kitten. I have been taking the morphine and so far it isn't making a huge difference. It's only three doses so I'm not surprised; I think it'll take a couple of days. I haven't been sick though so that's a plus. I've finished the kitten, and now there's only 2414 people ahead of me. It's speeding up! I just hope we actually get some bloody tickets or I will probably cry. 

The 5th of August. 

Last night was one of the most awful I can remember having in recent memory. 

We got the Harry Potter tickets by half past seven, thank the literary/theatre gods, then it was teatime. I'd had my third dose of oramorph, and I'd felt a bit sick throughout the day but it had generally gone away. The evening meal seemed to make it so much worse. I couldn't face even taking my normal tablets at bedtime, let alone another shot of morphine. No more of that please. 

I had to get upstairs, but once there, I just couldn't leave the commode bucket. I knew I wasn't getting to sleep until I'd thrown up; it was that kind of gut-wrenching, painful nausea that you know can only end one way. I sat on the floor in my pyjamas with my dressing gown around me, switching between too hot and too cold while watching more episodes of Fringe, seeing as I needed something to distract me. Mommy stayed until about half twelve when I sent her to bed (there was no point doing it any earlier because she would just lie awake waiting to hear me), when I thought it might be getting better. I very slowly managed to take my tablets, but I didn't get into bed until about quarter to two. I watched one more Fringe, then lay not quite all the way back in the dark, holding a pillow/my forehead/digging my nails into my palms, listening but not paying attention to podcasts. This went on until half past four, at which point I was in absolute agony, far worse than the pain I'd been taking it for in the first place. Then I suddenly had to scramble out of bed and promptly vomited into the commode bowl, onto my pyjama bottoms and all over the carpet. I called out but nobody heard, then I threw up again, and again. I couldn't go and get someone because there was sick on the floor that I didn't want to stand in, so I rang our landline on my phone, and when it was answered I just wailed loudly. Mommy came back in (I realise from this description that it sounds like I live in a mansion and she was miles away but I don't and she was next door) and helped me clean myself and the floor up, thankfully having been asleep so at least one of us was. The throwing up did make my stomach feel better, and I was able to actually lie down comfortably. I think I fell asleep at about half six, then woke up at half eight and again at ten, when I thought I should get up. So, three and a half hours of sleep. I feel so rested. 

To the daytime! First thing was that we spoke to the clinical nurses again, who recommended Oxycontin and if the GP couldn't give us any today, to let them know and they'd sort it. We'd obviously missed all the morning appointments, so our next option was to ring or go and get an appointment in person at 2, and we thought in person would be better. 

We went out just after lunch, and got in to see Dr. Sangha at 4.20pm. He is my actual named GP so it's nice to see him once in a while. I needed to go into town for some bits for a care package I am sending, so we had a trip there to kill time. I got all the pieces I wanted from Tiger, coffee (desperately needed), some make up from Superdrug that I couldn't find in the one in Sutton, and a card and some tissue paper from Paperchase before we went back to the doctor's.

He was running late, so I finally got Animal finished! So at least being so sick has got things done. When I got called in, he had a reg with him (I'm sure they had a fascinating chat afterwards), and we discussed what I needed. We went through what I've had so far, and now I'm written up for oxycontin, oxynorm and ondansetron just in case I feel sick again at all. Hopefully I don't. 

Boots didn't have the oxynorm so we need to get that tomorrow, and maybe things will start to get better?