The 10th of October. 

Oh god. I feel like nothing I'm wearing is clean. We've had a very poopy afternoon. 

This morning was acceptable. No poo on me. Did my blog post, said hi to the floofers, etcetera. Had to watch Friends instead of the news because it was all irritating and depressing. Boris, Trump, Turkey, just awful. 

However, after lunch, Mommy went to look in at the kittens and Blanche had done a terrible poo in between the litter trays, and was refusing to eat. I texted Shaki for her advice, and she said to ring Lydon's. I did, and all the vets were on lunch, so I relayed all that had happened to the woman who answered the phone. She couldn't advise me, but said she'd get Vicky who saw them on Monday to ring me when she was back. However, a few minutes after hanging up, she called me back and said she'd spoken to her manager who said to just bring them in. See you at half past four!

I then didn't really want to leave them alone, so I sat on the floor against the wardrobe (really very painful for my bum) and watched the first episode of the new season of Riverdale on my iPad while keeping an eye on who was eating and moving and pooing. Riverdale had me crying pretty much throughout. The scenes when they were all reminiscing about their memories of Fred, and when they brought his body back with the police escort and the streets were lined with the whole town. I was a mess. Not literally though, like I was later. 

When it came to time to go to the vet, everyone was good. However, pretty much as soon as we got in the car, I'm pretty sure Blanche did a poo, because it was just horrible diarrhoea. They all then wanted to get away from it, so were scrabbling around the carrier, screaming tiny mews and basically just getting it all over themselves. At one point someone wiped their pooey foot on my pocket, so then I ended up squashing myself up against the door of the car so no one could touch me. 

At the vet, Danyl gave them all an antibiotic jab because they have not improved in the way they would if there was no infection, and we have tablets to carry on with for five days. Plus we have four more boxes of gastro food! Please god let the combination work. Obviously I had to hold them all and touched their pooey bodies, so was very conscious of any upsetting bacteria on my hands. 

When we got them home, we decided to give them a little clean with some warm water, just to get some of the shit off. As we were getting the stuff ready, somebody did a wee, and someone did a poo that just got smeared all down Bramble's side! It was all so incredibly disgusting, we all had to have a cup of tea afterwards. So so gross. 

The 11th of October. 

I do love not being covered in plop.

Slightly early start to the day because I was off to the QE again, this time for my yearly chat with Andy Toogood about my thyroid. We got there a little bit early, so it felt like I was waiting for him for a while, but he was actually only running about ten minutes late. He had an Argentinian doctor called Natalia in with him, who was here seeing what we do. From my appointment, she'll have learned about falling out of my chair, my cataracts, and my very long list of drugs. He felt my neck, got me to swallow, ordered some blood tests, and liked my necklace (guess which one it was). 

Got home about twelve, and it was just the sort of day that required beans on toast for lunch, which we ate while watching Nish do very upsetting things on The Mash Report. Oof.

Mommy went off to Grandma's in the pissing rain, I made a hot chocolate (again, because of the weather) and watched the next episode of The Blacklist. Very much a filler episode; nothing really happened to move the season's story along. And for the whole time, it was quite clear that the podcaster was the murderer all along (sorry if that has spoiled it for you). 

Kitten time, after that. They might still be in the cage, but I thought they might like some company. They were all pretty sleepy, but I occasionally heard a noise or two when they would wake to eat or use the tray, which they are now doing, I am pleased to report! We have gone nearly a day without any accidents (touch wood)!

Today's dodgy film choice was brought to you by Netflix, a rather low-budget "thriller" called Level 16, about a school for girls where they learn the basics of being "feminine" in the hopes of one day being adopted by a good family, but is that all? No, obviously not. You want spoilers? Okay. Think "Get Out", but instead of old white people stealing the whole bodies of young black people, they're just stealing the skin of young girls because this is what plastic surgery is in this world. The girls are drugged to stay docile and sleep for 19 hours a day, waking in shifts. Every so often some are selected to be taken upstairs (while knocked out) and are viewed by buyers who want to wear their skin. There are some questions like "What are the vaccines for?" "What are the weird marks they leave behind?" "Why do the guards only speak Russian?" "Who is the man in charge we never see?" "Where does the money go?" "How old really is this headmistress?" I could go on. It's rather ridiculous, and a smidge too long, but I've had worse afternoons.