Archives For august

The 31st of August. 

Mild improvement today? My eyes don’t hurt quite as much, and my sleep wasn’t as terrible. I suppose you can call that progress. 

This morning I had an appointment with Andrew, post-venoplasty. I showed him my still fat arm and he was very disappointed. I was surprised that he had expected it to work, frankly. The next option for him would be to put a stent in, but it would be pretty massive and made of metal, and it would stop any central venous access from my left side, which could be problematic. He has a multi-disciplinary team meeting on Tuesday with other interventional radiologists, surgeons and haematologists, and he is going to present my case to them, and see me again in six weeks. In the meantime, I’ll see Anne Dancey and the lymphoedema clinic, then we’ll see where we are. 

Popped into town afterwards where I bought some hand cream, moisturiser, and some drawers from Muji to tidy my make up area. Back home, I spent forty five minutes sitting on the floor sorting it out, which was very satisfying but very painful for my back. 

Had a breakthrough with young Hugo! I went to give the kittens some more food, and he came up to me with his brother and lay down near me, even allowing me to stroke him! I have no idea why or how, or even if it’ll happen again. I hope it wasn’t a fluke. 

The 1st of September. 

Another trip to London! This time, it was Daddy’s belated birthday present: the Pink Floyd exhibition at The V&A. Half ten train, arrived at Euston just after twelve. Train manager got the ramp for me because, quelle surprise, nobody there. We got a cab to the museum, when we met up with Christine and went to get some lunch in the café. I got a ham and Emmental baguette because everything else had spice and stuff in, then there were secret herbs in the butter that nearly made it intolerable. You think you’ll be safe!

Our tickets were for 2.30, and we had to get headphones for the exhibition (very clever, they could pick up where you were and play the appropriate audio), so we joined the queue of other organised people. We got in promptly, as did many others, so it was quite slow to get around – especially for me, as I can only move at the speed of those around me, and only see stuff when people aren’t in the way. I liked what I knew of them already, and there’s some stuff I heard that I’m going to look into more. I took a lot of photos. 

I bought two books on the way out (not Pink Floyd related) and waited for the others. They were watching the film at the end, which I had to leave because of blinding light. When they eventually emerged, we went to get coffee and cake. We decided to sit outside, which was a mistake because the wind was freezing. 

I wanted to see the Rachel Kneebone sculptures, and so Christine and I went to find those. The first one was fairly obvious, a giant column by the entrance hall, and there was a sign saying the rest were in room 21. However, once there, we could not see them. A volunteer saw that we were confused, and she went off to find out where the other sculptures were. It turns out that one of them got a bit broken, and they got taken away. She could see I was disappointed, and asked if we were interested in the Balenciaga exhibition. I said yes, but we hadn’t bought tickets. However, she said that was fine, and she’d get us in. Okay! So then we got to look around there at all the beautiful dresses. I discovered that Cristóbal and I share a birthday, and found a dress by Oscar de la Renta that I would gladly get married in. So stunning. 

We met back up with Mommy and Daddy, and it was time for us to return to our respective homes. Christine poddled off back to Twickenham, and the rest of us back to Euston. I bought some Pom Bears and a green juice for dinner, and a New Scientist to read on the way home. Pooped. 

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The 29th of August. 

Another bad night! I really don’t know what’s happening, if it’s my body or my mind that is the problem. I just want it to stop. 

This morning, I did a blog post, and had started watching The Mist yesterday, so I put that back on. I got a couple of episodes watched (Mommy had taken Grandma for an appointment with her consultant) and painted my nails, which was fun when I dropped my phone down the side of the chair. I was able to retrieve it without getting nail varnish everywhere, thankfully. 

Mommy got back around lunchtime, so we ate some food, then I went to let the kittens run around while I watched the final few episodes of The Mist. I think I am getting somewhere with Henrietta – I keep giving her treat sticks and the occasional Dreamie and I am getting hissed at less. The Mist has a very unsatisfactory ending – no questions answered, harmful stereotypes reinforced, cliffhanger finale. Do I want another season? Just answers would be preferable, I think. Bah. 

New Bake Off tonight. I have a lot of conflicting feelings. 

The 30th of August. 

Jesus, my eyes have been really sore for the past two days. No reason, and not much I can really do to alleviate the pain. More eye drops don’t really help. Blargh. I at least had a marginally better sleep, but the dreams weren’t great. 

I’ve done too much crocheting again, so my fingers are tired. The doily is so big, it now takes over an hour to do a round and it only grows. Really hoping I manage to get to the end without running out of wool. 

This afternoon, we watched the Horizon programme about psychopaths, then I finished off a round of crochet before going upstairs to listen to some podcasts and give my eyes a rest. Back downstairs, I let the kittens out and watched an episode of Sense8. Henrietta is coming a bit closer to me now, although we thought we might have a setback last night after she got her claws stuck in a blanket and completely freaked out. We couldn’t help her without getting injured, so I had to get an oven glove so we could remove her paw from its trap. She was not happy. Thankfully, today she does not seem too traumatised. Hugo is still ridiculous, climbing up my leg, but if I look at him, he legs it. More bribery required. 

The 27th of August. 

Slightly better night. I definitely slept more, and my dreams weren’t upsetting. Improvement all round. 

Sunday Brunch this morning, although the only person I really immediately recognised was Tori Amos. None of the comedy pals were on this week. Wrote up a blog post, and exchanged messages with Sophie about her and Pete’s twins, which I can now talk about because they have been officially announced. They were born a week ago, both still in hospital until they get a bit bigger. 

Grandma came for lunch, after an appalling lunch yesterday – wanted to make sure she had a decent meal this weekend. She was given “lasagna” but it looks like sloppy leftovers you wouldn’t even give to a dog. Absolutely fucking atrocious.

After lunch, I went upstairs and watched the last episode of Doctor Foster, then Penny came to visit! She has come home for the weekend so came to see the kittens and had a lovely time talking to Harvey in a ridiculous voice. We had to leave when a poo happened, so we went and ate chocolate and toffee cookie cake in the kitchen. I haven’t seen her properly for years so it was really nice to hang out. She is a babe. 

The 28th of August. 

I had sleep, but the dreams were not good. I am not happy with my brain right now – so many bad dreams, this is not normal. 

It is hot. Even I am actually too warm; I have had to take my cardigan off. Very unusual. Most of my day has been spent with the curtains drawn, crocheting. I think I may have actually crocheted too much, because my left hand is very achy now. No more today. 

This afternoon, I made myself an iced coffee, and it was so painful. The standing up to do so, I mean. My appointment with Dr. Blaney isn’t until the third of October, so until then, I just have to suffer. When I do have to stand, or sit in an unsupportive chair, all I can think about is being able to rest, such is the agony. Penny asked me yesterday what it was like and it is so hard to describe – it’s like there is a knife plunged into my spine and if just stays there, never abating. 

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The 25th of August. 

Ugh I had a horrible night. First, I had a dream that the muscles in my thighs had atrophied, and I was trying to walk around a supermarket with a trolley, but I couldn’t lift my legs. Then, I had another dream that I ate some sort of bud that would kill me, then I was crawling around repeating “Mommy, I ate a flower” when Gollum from Lord of the Rings started coming toward me, scrambling in a bridge position, and I woke myself up trying to kick it away. I had to listen to a lot of podcast to stop myself falling back into the same dream. 

I was glad to see daylight. Hopefully tonight will be better. This morning, I did a blog post, and went to see the kitties. I let Harvey out briefly, but then Hugo wanted to come out too and I can’t have them both running around while on my own. They can do that this evening when there are two of us there. 

I have been crocheting all afternoon – another doily. Going to be a big one. I decided I would start watching Doctor Foster on Netflix, as I want to see the second series and I only saw bits of the first, so I saw the first two episodes of that. I’m enjoying it – I cannot wait for the dinner party. 

The 26th of August. 

What a fucking garbage night. Again. It felt like I barely slept at all, although I must have done. I think I will go to bed early tonight, but that rarely works. I must have looked exhausted, because the chap at the cinema gave me a large coffee without me asking for it. 

This morning, once I had got myself feeling vaguely half-human, I said hi to the cats and then sat down with the crochet. I managed a couple of rounds, occasionally looking up at Saturday Kitchen, then stopped so I could concentrate on Only Connect. Can’t do missing vowels if I’m not paying attention. 

After lunch, Daddy and I went to see Logan Lucky. It’s a huge amount of fun – I was thrilled from the moment Parks and Rec’s Jerry appeared as Channing Tatum’s boss. I was in. Daniel Craig is having a lovely time being a bomb-making prisoner, and Hillary Swank turns up for a jolly. If you want a good, ridiculous heist movie, it’s for you. 

The 23rd of August. 

Another disastrous night. I seem to be incompatible with sleep right now – it might be time for Zopiclone again. 

Not a great deal to report today. This morning, I had a bit of kitten fun time before writing up a blog post. That took considerably less time than Monday, because I used a different app to upload the photos. Mommy and I had chiro appointments, so went out at half past twelve to be stretched and crunched. There was a lot of tightness in my lower back, probably from my long days in the wheelchair in the time between visits. I can’t wait to see the pain man again. Steroid injections please. 

Came home, had lunch, checked on kittens. Mommy went to Grandma’s, and I spent a couple of hours writing, then watched the season 3 finale of Buffy, realising the similarities between the Mayor and Trump. It would not surprise me if he wanted to become a demon. 

The 24th of August. 

I had Zopiclone and it was good. I slept until half past nine, and this morning I did some kitten petting – Henrietta didn’t hiss at me, and she even gave Mommy a friendly headbutt! Definite progress. Denise is coming round this evening to meet them and pick up paperwork, and Penny is coming home this weekend so she’s coming to meet them too. 

This afternoon, I had a hairwash, which will hopefully stop the green rubbing off on my pillowcase, as I discovered was happening last night. I had a quick look at my copy of James Acaster’s Classic Scrapes which arrived from Amazon, and I am very much looking forward to seeing him again in the autumn. Since then, I have been finishing off the doily, which now needs starching or something, to look how it’s supposed to. 

Sorry for the lack of words. Life is pretty banausic right now. 

The 21st of August. 

This summer has been such garbage. Last night I had to have my blanket on top of my duvet because it was so cold. I am wearing a polo neck jumper in the middle of August. Ridiculous. 

This morning I did a blog post which took forever to upload – I think I need to look at the app I use because I’m fairly certain that’s to blame. Spent a lot of time sitting with the kittens – still no joy from Hugo or Henrietta, they don’t want to talk to me. I think Hugo does want to explore, he’s just super timid about even leaving the cage. 

After lunch, I went to the QE to see Dean. When I arrived, a doctor was in with him, but Orlando was hanging around the nurses’ station so we went to the kitchen for a catch up. He was fascinated by my wheelchair, and I made him feel old because I told him about the decade anniversary. Dean wasn’t good – it is really hard to get his pain under control and until they do, he can’t have any chemo (if that’s what he decides he wants) or go home. He was making the small pain noise that I have made myself many a time. It’s involuntary and it means it’s really bad. I wish I could make it easier. I can’t bear to think of him like this. 

The 22nd of August. 

It would be so nice to wake up and not hear Donald Trump’s voice on the Today programme. It’s such a crappy way to start a day. Ugh. 

Morning was breakfast, bit of kitten petting and putting some crocheted goodies in the post for Peter and Sophie. We went out at half eleven because I was meeting Sadie for lunch at the Cereal Killer Café at twelve. Incredibly, she actually arrived before me. That never happens. It took us a long time to decide on what we wanted, despite us both having looked at the menu a lot online before going. I eventually went for the Chocopottomus, which is Coco Pops, Krave, and a Kinder Happy Hippo with chocolate milk, plus I had cinnamon bun cookie dough bites on top. Oh, the joys of being an adult. I am now hungry again so cereal for every meal is probably not a viable lifestyle choice. 

We had fun reviewing last night’s My Dad Wrote A Porno, her recent holiday, my new kittens and medical exploits. We also were very bemused by the twelve (ish) year old boy near us who looked like he’d been plucked from Saved by the Bell – white t-shirt tucked into some very dad jeans that were belted. He could only have looked more 90’s if he’d had curtains. 

Since getting home, I’ve had to get changed because I can’t seem to dress appropriately for the weather. It’s too inconsistent!

The 19th & 20th; So small.

August 21, 2017 — 1 Comment

The 19th of August. 

I can’t see this being a long entry. I woke up from a particularly horrific dream in which I was having some kind of scan, which I could see on a screen, and inside my belly was a catacombs made of my own teeth. It was very disturbing. 

This morning, I did a blog post while watching Saturday Kitchen. Then, the rest of my day was spent watching the other seven episodes of The Defenders, while I crocheted. Doing another doily. Mindless busy work. There was a brief, surreal interlude, in which a brass band marched down my street, playing a jazzy tune. I know it definitely happened because I filmed them as they walked away. 

The Defenders is very easy to binge watch. Sigourney Weaver goes full-on Theresa May in episode 6. Jessica Jones is still my favourite – I’m glad she’s getting a second season. 

Now, waiting on a kitten delivery. New floofs please.

The 20th of August. 

Oh lord the kittens are so small and cute. Harvey and Hugo are the babies, and Henrietta is the mum. She is very hissy and sighs with an alarming regularity, like she is utterly fed up. Must make her happier. Hugo is a scaredy cat, likes to cuddle up to his mum. I have petted him once. Harvey is my favourite because he is the smallest and he loves being stroked and played with. We have had a great time today. 

This morning was the usual, Sunday Brunch, watching Katherine school Tim and Simon on their casually sexist line of questioning. Plus popping in to see the kitties every so often. My cat whispering skills are going to be required with the two reticent ones. 

After lunch, I split my time between cat petting and crocheting. I have to be careful, going in to sit with them, because I lose time – I can just sit and stare at them for ages. So small. I wish they could stay this tiny forever.