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The 8th of February. 

I am so tired of spending every morning coughing, over and over, having to bring up crap from my lungs repeatedly. It takes hours to subside. I haven’t got an appointment for Andrew’s clinic next week yet, so tomorrow I’ll have to ring the lady I spoke to last week again. 

It’s been another rather nothing day. I have crocheted two coaster-type things, although they’re a bit big so are more like doilies. I am a grandma. 

We watched another episode of Case – it’s only on All 4 so we have to be proactive in watching it, otherwise we’ll forget and I do want to know what happens. I find it difficult to tell all the blonde Icelandic girls apart; they all look so similar. There’s another, similar drama starting soon called The Team so hopefully they’re different enough for us to keep them separate in our minds. 

Nothing else. Just want to be back to normal size. I’m doing a talk for some Marrow volunteers next week and it would be so nice if I didn’t have to wear an enormous jumper but I suspect I will. 

The 9th of February. 

So it seems 2017 is the year I become a pensioner, as I’ve made about five doilies in the past two days. They’re my new scarf – when I’m bored and have no larger project, make a coaster/doily. 

This morning, I made a purple coaster, and this afternoon, I did a larger, doily-type one while listening to 69 Love Songs by The Magnetic Fields. They have such a wealth of material, I wish I’d known about them back when they might have toured. 

I had several phone calls to the hospital, trying to make sure I was going to get an appointment for Andrew’s clinic next week. I talked to the lady from last week, but she had no paperwork about me, so then I spoke to his secretary who was able to sort it out very efficiently and I’ll be seeing him next week. Apparently the compression garment people have me on their list as needing one urgently but still no idea when that might progress. 

This evening I had another Cats Protection meeting, although this week’s was not as long and I have no jobs to do. I am good at being the host, providing biscuits and doing admin. 

The 29th of January. 

My arm has not gone down at all. I think we’ll be phoning the booking co-ordinator in the morning, not to actually arrange something, but she might be able to help us work out how to proceed. What’s ridiculous is that I will probably be able to get this surgery relatively easily, but if I had an aneurysm or something, it would be a lot harder to pin down. 

This morning, I stayed in my pyjamas and blogged. I had Shreddies for breakfast for the first time since my mouth flared up, and they’re not as good as I remember. Might have to rethink my choice of morning meal. 

Most of the day, I’ve wanted to just retreat from the world because what Trump has started is so bad already, and I am sickened that there are people who think he is right. Disgusted by the actions of our unelected Prime Minister. The only heartening thing is the amount of people protesting, who refuse to submit. I hope he does come for a state visit, so he has to come to a city to a Muslim is the mayor and see the thousands of people who will not stand for his new brand of fascism. 

The 30th of January. 

No arm progress. I made some phone calls but by the time I got the number of the woman I need to speak to, she had gone home, so I have left her a message. I’m having a minor panic because my jeans feel tighter around my right leg today and I can’t tell if I’ve gained weight or if my leg has swollen up. I can’t use the scales to check because they can’t be relied upon while my arm is the way it is. Ugh.

I had a mini Cats Protection meeting with the homing team this morning to discuss some creases that need to be ironed out. It was meant to be just a brief chat, but turned into an hour and a half discussion. We did at least make some decisions and I’ve got one job to do but it’s not urgent. 

This afternoon, I did some CP adoption admin, and Mommy and I watched the first episode of Case, a new Scandi-Noir on Channel 4 that has already drawn us in. My copy of The Good Immigrant arrived, which I bought with my Amazon voucher that I got for participating in the Anthony Nolan group on Thursday. Really looking forward to getting into it. Also I am greatly enjoying the photos from the Birmingham anti-Trump protest – wish I could be there but it’s not advisable. I cannot afford to get sick.