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Documenting not dying since October 2013.

The 5th & 6th; I am bitter.

The 5th & 6th; I am bitter.

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The 5th of November.  I hate Bonfire Night. I hate fireworks and bonfires. The brightness hurts my eyes and the smoke hurts my lungs. I hate them because I can't enjoy them like a normal person and I am bitter about it. At least now they might stop until New Year. 

Did a blog post this morning, no great excitement there. I could hear Mommy upstairs in my bedroom, hoovering, and it made me think about all the stuff she does that I can't and how I'll cope if it gets to a point where she isn't able to do those things. Hoovering, dusting, making my bed. I don't like thinking that far ahead. But the only way for that scenario to be avoided is for one of us to not be alive and I am not a fan of that idea. In fact, I can't bear it. Hence avoiding the future. 

Well, that was bleak. This afternoon, a lady called Tracey came with her partner to view Chester. He's nowhere near ready to go and she knows that, but they got to meet and she could see if he was suitable. We think he will be - he's going to be a friend for a sad dog. They left after about an hour, having provisionally agreed a date for adoption, which works for all of us because it means Christine will get to meet him too. 

The 6th of November. 

I was wrong about the fireworks. People are still doing it this evening, presumably because they are awful. Bah. And I woke up in a weird mood because I had the same dream about being a serial killer three times from different perspectives. 

So I'm tired. Physically, mentally. My muscles hurt from getting up from sitting on the floor with the kittens so every time I stand up I groan. Most of my day has been spent working on the last gnome, the biggest one. All his parts are now finished, so I'll assemble him tomorrow. 

I had to ring the GP because they'd called on Friday about a letter from the dental hospital. When I did, the receptionist said it was a secretary who'd phoned but she doesn't work on Mondays so I have to ring back tomorrow. Why a random secretary from the GP is ringing, I don't know. 

I'm really not looking forward to my lung function tests on Thursday. I know the results are going to be shit and I really don't feel like hearing for definite that the pneumonia and collapsed lung have resulted in permanent damage. 

 

 

The 7th, 8th & 9th; I didn't scream or even flinch.

The 7th, 8th & 9th; I didn't scream or even flinch.

The 3rd & 4th; Christmas Crafts ahoy!

The 3rd & 4th; Christmas Crafts ahoy!