The 4th of October. 

Last night was dreadful. The coughing would not cease, and I think the best chunk of sleep I had was between six and seven this morning. It hasn’t got better as the day’s gone on, and I just want it to be bedtime.

This morning I did a blog post, then I finished putting Heinz the Stag together, so all the little winter chaps are finished. The wool has arrived for some of the Christmas presents I’m going to make, although for some reason I ordered double of some of it so I’ve got to send a lot back. I blame illness. 

After lunch, Amanda came to see the kittens again, but she didn’t stay very long, I think because she felt bad because I was coughing so much. She suggested I see a doctor but I explained why that would be pointless. 

At half past three, Mommy and I went to the GP for our flu jabs. I stayed in the corridor, to keep my coughs to myself. I know I’m not infectious, but I don’t want to unnecessarily concern everyone else being jabbed. 

Oh, I hope tonight is better. I need a rest. 

The 5th of October. 

I just feel terrible. I had a better night but ugh, the coughing is still exactly the same. I move one bit of phlegm, and some more comes to take its place. 

My only triple out today was to the Women’s, where I was seeing Miss Byrom and Sue. While waiting, no less than four people asked if I needed water. Sigh. It was particularly bad – I feel like I need to wear a sign that says I AM NOT CONTAGIOUS. Thankfully it wasn’t busy enough for anyone to need to sit very close to me. 

The upshot of the appointment is that nothing can really go ahead until the anaesthetist is happy, so I need to see the immunology doctor about my white cells. She is away until next week, but her secretary is aware of the multiple people need her to see me. Hopefully that means I will see her sooner rather than later. 

I just want to stop coughing. I want to stop being in pain all the time. I’m so tired.

The 2nd of October. 

It is just relentless. Doesn’t stop. Don’t know what time I fell asleep. It was after Daddy got home, past one. 

Everything hurts. Both shoulders, all of my back, my ribcage. The only way I can suppress it is to lean forward, but that makes my back pain even worse. Thank god I’m seeing the pain doctor tomorrow. 

I went to St. Giles today to get a new compression garment. I met Jane, who is the one that works with Anne Dancey. She looked at a few different sizes, but actually the first one fitted. I’m not loving it – I forgot how squeezy they are. I’ve got to ring them in a few days if it’s okay and they’ll get the GP to organise a spare one for me. 

Henrietta is going today. She is not getting any happier here, so Shaki is going to take her back to the colony from whence she came. She’s well now, and has been spayed so can’t get pregnant again, so this is the best thing for her. She is not destined to be a pet.

The 3rd of October. 

My chest quietly rumbles on. If I’m not coughing, I’m burbling away. 

I think I had a slightly better night – I don’t think it took me quite so long to fall asleep. Not that it’s helped much. Still just coughing up phlegm all day long. It’s funny, the cough is so loudly phlegmy, yet people still offer me water like lack of moisture is the problem. It is quite blatantly not a dry cough. It happened while I was waiting to be called through in pain clinic this afternoon. Like I will drink the water and be like HALLELUJAH YOU HAVE CURED ME!

Speaking of pain clinic, Dr. Blaney does agree that steroid injections are the next step, as any stronger drugs are all opiates that will probably affect my breathing. However, he doesn’t want to do those until we know why my white cell count is consistently high. I get it – if we introduced infection into my spinal fluid, that would be a problem. So now we have to badger the secretary of the immunology doctor, and she’s not back until Thursday. 

The 30th of September. 

I had a lovely morning and a horrible afternoon. 

Another okay night, woken up by my alarm. I managed to get a lot of my morning coughs out of the way, then my favourite homeboy, Dan Alani came round! I took him in to the kitty room, where he greatly enjoyed meeting two new little mates. It is a novelty that does not wear off. 

We had a really nice hour and a half, catching up on each other’s lives. He is doing so well; I am very proud. We’re growing up! Where did the years go? Yet we can fall back into old habits like no time has passed at all. He gives the best hugs. 

He left to go to Aston Villa with Warren, and I had lunch. The cinnamon bun I bought yesterday was very disappointing – not much cinnamon and there were cranberries? Not okay. So I ate the blondie instead. 

Since then, the coughing has been non-stop. I feel wretched. I am so sweaty from the constant effort. And it is this that has lead me to the decision that I can’t go to Harry Potter tomorrow. I will ruin the day for everyone concerned, the day will be too long, and I will just make myself more ill. What’s worst is that it is my own fault for doing too much. My body is able to ruin anything. The lesson here: don’t make plans. 

The 1st of October. 

Ugh. I feel grim. I don’t know what time I fell asleep, but I woke up at half past ten when Mommy came in because I had slept through my alarm. Whoops. 

It has been made evident by the amount of tissues in the bin that staying at home was the correct decision. I did not know it was possible for the human body to produce this much phlegm. I’ve been able to spend most of my day in just a t-shirt because the amount of coughing I’ve done has kept me so warm. Sweating away. 

I’ve actually injured my left shoulder this afternoon while I was hurling my body forward. Oh, god. I at least managed to finish Chloe’s seal, so I can get that sent off to her as soon as I find an appropriate way to package him. 

Right, I think I’m going to curl up on the floor. Sometimes that helps. 

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The 28th of September. 

Nobody has more phlegm than me. My throat seems okay now, not really needing the Strepsils. I just cough a lot, and it is my signature cough that I have to do continously until the junk moves. Sometimes it takes a while, and I get a bit lightheaded. The ribs are coping today, I am just really tired. Praying it calms down by Sunday. 

This morning, I woke up early, and did a blog post, and coughed. Just coughed, up until about half eleven, when I finally seemed to get some rest, so then I got Simon’s hat out and started work on that again. 

After lunch, a couple came to view the kittens. I don’t think we’d been in the room even five minutes when Amanda said she was smitten. Not surprising – Harvey just wants to be pals with everyone immediately and Hugo is gorgeous, if less forthcoming. He became a bit more interested once we started playing and they were able to see what he’s like when he’s relaxed. 

They stayed about an hour, and left definitely wanting them. They can’t pick them up until next weekend but that’s fine because it means I get another week of petting. 

The rest of my afternoon was spent finishing Simon. I’ve still got Heinz the Stag to do, but I must do Chloe’s seal first. 

The 29th of September. 

I have a headache, I suspect from lack of oxygen during all the coughing – I checked my sats while I was having a fit and they went down to 92, and my heart rate went up to 140. It’s not great. 

I had a more reasonable sleep – my alarm actually woke me up today which is the first time in a while. We’ll see if that happens again or if it was a fluke. 

This morning, once I’d got through all the morning phlegm, I started crocheting Chloe’s seal. So far, he has a face. It’s going well. 

After lunch, Mommy and I went into town for toy stuffing, returning of Zara jumpers, and to purchase some baked goods from this place called Medicine Bakery which is only open on Fridays and Saturdays. Sadie went when she was home the other week and she approved. I bought a Nutella and s’mores kruffin, plus a cinnamon bun and a blondie. 

OH GOD SO PHLEGMY. 

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The 26th of September. 

Ughhh. So much phlegm. Bad night, full of coughing, sneezing, bleugh. This morning I wrote up a blog post, then it was time to try on more jumpers. Yes, more jumpers. I don’t know when this saga with my arm will end and Zara have an abundance of large-sleeved clothing so I’m taking advantage. I do at least know that I will be getting a better compression garment on Monday – Jemma from St. Giles rang and said she’d spoken to Andrew, who says it’s fine to have one, so maybe one that fits properly will actually help?

This afternoon, I’ve been crocheting the first of my little wintery chaps, Woody the Pine Cone. He is adorable, but he still needs some arms. 

It seems Christine is poorly too. She is also on the Strepsils and doing all the coughs. Hopefully she is tolerating it better than I am. Stupid germs! I’m pretty sure it’s just a virus, not bacterial, as the phlegm that’s come up hasn’t been green and it can’t be the pneumonia again because then the phlegm was too viscous to move. 

I miss Dean a lot today. I keep expecting to see his name pop up on my phone screen, thinking of things I want to tell him. Maybe it’s finally hitting me. 

The 27th of September. 

Another bad sleep, but I’ll just have to expect that while I’m ill. My throat was less sore, but that’s probably because I was awake in the night and had Strepsils. 

I think my nose is less runny today, but the coughing is much worse and more painful because all my ribs and muscles ache. Christine went home at lunchtime today so she is obviously not feeling great either. 

More crochet and TiVo. I finished Woody and started on Simon the Snowman, who currently looks like a tooth. The wool I had ordered to make Chloe’s seal came today so I can do that next. Can’t believe I had run out of light grey. 

I had a break from the crochet when we went to collect the kitties from the very after their neutering, chipping and vaccinations. Henrietta is sulking but the kittens are fine. We’ve got a couple coming to see them tomorrow and there’s no way they won’t fall in love with them so I’ll probably have to say goodbye soon. 

The 24th of September. 

Poorly. I had a massive sleep, aided by Zopiclone, which was good, but I’m not well. My sinuses are full of crap on my left side – my head is so heavy. Most of my day, I have sat and crocheted. I need to write up a bunch of blog posts but I have just not got the energy. Sunday Brunch, porridge, coffee. Curled up in leggings and another enormous jumper. 

Grandma came for lunch, and we had my favourite, venison. But then I spent a couple of hours upstairs on my bed, resting my back, trying not to feel like shit. I didn’t fall asleep, like I have been known to when ill. Oh, I just want to go to bed. Stay in bed. I’m so glad this week is empty. I need to regain energy for Sunday. Harry Potter!

The 25th of September. 

Bleugh. Definitely poorly. I woke up with a sore throat again, and my head is full of cold. I think I might have what Daddy had the other week – streaming nose, going through tissues by the dozen, feeling like garbage. 

I spent my morning putting together all the blog posts I have missed since the start of my busy week. The house phone rang while I was working, and Mommy was out, stocking up on decongestants etc for me, so I thought I’d better answer. Luckily for me, it was Christine, calling to update us on her chiro appointment for her dodgy wrist, and I had a little sneezing fit at her down the phone. 

When Mommy returned, she has also got some chicken and vegetable soup for me, so I had that with my Fudgepacker brownie for lunch, which did make me feel slightly better. 

Rest of the day, I have been sat in front of the TiVo box, finishing off one crochet project and starting another, some little wintery dudes. 

Rellik is on tonight so I can’t go to bed early again. I’ll try to lie in in the morning but if my throat is as sore as it was today, that will be tough. 

The 22nd of September. 

Hallo darling, 

It has been three weeks now, since you left us. I am recovering from my most hectic few days in a long time, which culminated in saying goodbye to you. It was a lengthy drive, and you would have told me not to come, that you didn’t warrant that kind of effort. You never could fathom how much you were loved. But I had to be there. I couldn’t let the last time I saw you be the last time we were together. 

This was never a place we were supposed to be. Everyone knows I’ve been to a lot of funerals. However, they are not the funerals of friends. I have said goodbye to many people, but they have most often been children, which is not to say I didn’t love them and was not devastated, but I did not connect with them the way I did with you. I am not only grieving over losing you, but all the years I saw ahead with you too. We have not just had a friend ripped away, but a lifetime. We were supposed to drink coffee and eat cinnamon buns together. I wanted you to see the end of the saga of my swollen arm. I wanted to see you with the hair I know you were so desperate to grow back.

Adam said it most succinctly, with his string of expletives during his speech. Fuck cancer. There is a part of me that has to slightly contradict him though. It’s the worst, most selfish part of me, but I think you would understand. It’s saying thank you, cancer. I wish to infinity and back that it had ended differently, but if I hadn’t been ill ten years ago, there might not have been any reason for us to develop the bond we did. I know that we shared things that you could not speak to anyone else about, and I hope you were able to find comfort in me. 

You were, quite honestly, one of the best people I have ever known. I have no other way to put it. Only someone quite so phenomenal could inspire the love that has poured out since your departure, and it was an honour to call myself your friend. I am so proud of everything you achieved, and what will be done in your name. Only you could have appeared in such flamboyant form, a rainbow on a clear day. Thank you for being here. For all of it. I love you. 

The 23rd of September. 

Oh god I am so tired. All I want is my bed. I had to be awake at seven to be at hospital for my nine o’clock eye appointment and finally the past week has caught up with me. 

I saw Carmel, the lovely nurse, and she checked my vision and my pressures, and I could read more letters than last time. Then Dr. Barry called me in, and checked out my eyes. He has changed some of the eye drops, and whipped out some of the lashes in my left lower lid. I made some comment about how there’s not much we can do about them, and he said actually there is! So I’m going to have electrolysis, which involves having local anaesthetic in the eyelid, then a hot probe put in the root and it kills the troublesome lashes. 

Back at home, we were just about to have lunch, when Jill from Black Sheep called, because Michaela’s half one client had cancelled or moved, so could I come in early? That was fine, so I ate my lunch (including my chocolate crodough, which was still good even after two days) and we went into Sutton. Just a bit of a chop, so I was only there about an hour, swapping baby photos and stories. 

Since getting back, I have just flooped. Had some hugs from the kittens, who have clearly missed me. Henrietta less so. I have tried stroking her with the roller a bit but she continually flinched and I felt bad so I stopped. Now bed please. When Strictly finishes I am off. 

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