Archives For cats protection

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 4th of February. 

I do not like diuretics one bit. So much peeing. If this makes no difference to my arm in a couple of days I will be rather annoyed. More annoyed, I should say. I’d really like to wear jumpers that aren’t massive and coats that are actually warm. Sigh. 

Blog post this morning during Saturday Kitchen, then I had to be at Lyn’s house at twelve for another Cats Protection meeting. Part of it involved going down her garden, so I stayed in the house and made friends with her big black kitty. Very soft and floofy but also moulty, like Oscar was. 

It wasn’t a long one, but I was still quite hungry for my lunch when we got back. Then this afternoon, we have made Nigella’s quadruple chocolate loaf cake. It is a behemoth. 

Today is World Cancer Day, and I’ve been wearing my Anthony Nolan Unity Band. I can’t quite believe this year is ten years since I was diagnosed. I don’t know what I expected my life to be at this point – I suppose I thought I’d be fine, or dead. Certainly not this weird, in-between state, constantly breaking down in ever more creative ways. Sure, I’d like to be fine, but I don’t want to give up the good things in my life for that and I think I’d have to. I’m willing to pay this price. 

The 5th of February. 

If it’s not one thing it’s another. The arm is still exactly the same, and my back is really bad – the right side of my lower ribcage is super stiff, so deep breaths are a problem, standing and walking are even worse than usual. God I wish the bloody pain team would just give me an appointment so I could get a drug that works and doesn’t make me sick, unbearably itchy or incapable of breathing. 

Day largely spent in front of the television – Sunday Brunch and rugby, while I crocheted a sock. It’s just a practise, not going to be wearable, but if it works then I can do it again properly. 

This evening, I’ve been out at The Glee to see David O’Doherty. I planned on using the lift as my breathing is still worse than usual, but then I was told to ask inside the venue and they’d take me to it. Unfortunately, that kind of defeats the purpose because to get to the lift, I’d have to leave again to walk to the back door where the lift is, which makes me breathless anyway. So I climbed the stairs, and was taken to my seat which of course was as far from the door as possible. At this point, I was out of breath to the point where it scares me. I just have to sit and wait for it to get back to normal. 

The show was great, just what was required. Denise from Cats Protection was there with her husband and we were saying that we really needed some relief from the awful world. He definitely was that.

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.

The 17th of January. 

I have a venogram appointment! I checked on myhealth this morning, and I am booked in for the 25th at 9am. No letter yet, that will probably be tomorrow, and will include more detail. Looking back at previous venograms, there have been occasions when the venoplasty’s been done immediately, and when I’ve had to go back and have it another day. Fingers crossed it’s the former but I have no clue. 

This morning, I wrote up a post and painted my nails while watching Theresa May’s Brexit speech. It was not particularly illuminating, apart from making it obvious that if we don’t get what she wants, we are quite screwed. People keep saying “We haven’t had the Brexit crash that was predicted” like it’s fine but they don’t seem to have realised that we haven’t left yet.

Mommy has been out most of the day, taking Grandma to a funeral, coming home, reading a letter, and having to go back to Grandma’s to tell her that this letter said that her cousin has died. Not a great day for her. 

I watched the final three episodes of A Series of Unfortunate Events and crocheted. I had started some pyjamas for the doll I made ages ago, so now she has the trousers and I’m working on the shirt. 

Phoned up several potential adopters to have the standard conversation, had to explain that we actually have practically no cats/kittens at the moment, but they are willing to wait. 

The 18th of January.

Today has seemed to go by ever so quickly. I looked at the clock and suddenly it was half past three. Where did the time go?

This morning, I was able to have orange juice with my breakfast for the first time since before Christmas. Think my mouth might be okay to eat fun things on my birthday, maybe even have some champagne! Such excitement. I have ordered a mini Curly Wurly cake for us to pick up on Saturday and I’ve been trying to decide what I’m going to wear. Thankfully we’re not going anywhere fancy so I don’t have to worry about a dress code, but I’d like to look reasonable and that’s tricky when one of your arms is massive. I’m not sure whether my leather jacket will fit so we’ll take the furry lining out of my park and then I think it will be big enough to accommodate the enormo-arm. 

After lunch (during which I had an apple, another thing I haven’t had for ages because it was too pointy), I had a Cats Protection call, then I made the pyjama top to go with the bottoms. I now remember why I’d stopped doing stuff from that book – it has mistakes as it’s a translation. Bah. I also started a new series on Netflix called Glitch. It’s like The Returned, but Australian, and they all crawled out of their graves at the same time not knowing they were dead. I’ll see how it goes. 

Hair change tomorrow. What colour to go?

The 9th of January. 

No joy from the postman, nor is there anything on myhealth to show any upcoming appointments. Maybe on Wednesday morning we’ll ring a clinical nurse specialist, or try Andrew Willis’ secretary. 

I’ve had a very quiet day. I did a blog post, then iced three lots of cupcakes for Mommy to take to Grandma’s for her birthday. I got very chocolatey, sticky fingers. 

We had lunch, then Mommy went to Grandma’s and I went upstairs to do some extra moisturising because my skin has become really dry with this flare. Discovered that I could peel all of the skin off my left big toe, which was the worst affected area. Classic GvHD. 

For the rest of the afternoon, I watched two episodes of The OA while crocheting my jumper, but I’ve had to stop because the skin between my thumb and forefinger is so dry and painful. I need some seriously heavy-duty hand cream. 

This evening I have to prepare answers to some questions I’m going to be asked tomorrow. I’m taking part in a radio programme for BBC World Service about death. It will be more uplifting than it sounds. 

The 10th of January. 

Definitely going to ring someone in the morning about my arm – the upper arm has grown to 29.5cm in circumference (compared to 24cm on the left). This morning I did some Cats Protection admin and had a look through the questions for the interview this evening. I don’t need to prepare much, it’s all stuff I can answer off the cuff. 

I had a follow-up appointment at the dental hospital at 1.40pm, so we went out straight after lunch. I saw one of Mrs. Richards’ registrars who I’ve not met before. I explained what I was doing with the steroid paste and my concerns about it not staying where it should. She said that I’m doing it right, but it probably won’t stick because it is on the tongue. She went to confer with Mrs. Richards, who came in to have a look and decided we should put a little bit of steroid in the two sites that are being problematic. More painful this time, right in the raw tip of my tongue and on the top. Thankfully the swelling has gone down enough for me to be able to speak. 

Afterwards, we went into town so I could stock up on facewipes and toothpaste, and we went to Lush in search of hand cream. Ended up talking to the perfect sales assistant who has a similar problem so knew exactly what to recommend. Got a tub of Helping Hands. Let’s hope it does the job!

I’ve had the pre-interview for tonight’s 9pm one (another one cropped up for BBC WM randomly), and at half six the chap is coming to record me for the one about death. In between then and now, I’ll eat dinner. 

The 7th of January. 

Fuck I am still so tired, despite having caught up on sleep I missed at New Year. I think it’s because I’m still coughing a lot, especially in the mornings – they are awful. I would really like to feel good again soon. 

This morning, I wrote up a blog post, went on a hunt for a place for us to eat on my birthday (settled on Where the Pancakes Are, yum), then did some Cats Protection training. There was a new fosterers induction so I went through it. I did learn something so it wasn’t a waste of time. 

After lunch, I rang a potential adopter and forwarded him to the appropriate fosterer so hoping that’s a good match when he goes to see the kitty tomorrow. 

The rest of my time has been spent finishing the blanket – I just need to sew the fin to the tail and it’ll be done! Rainbow mermaid tail. It’s quite snug – only to be worn with leggings or tights. Unless it stretches. 

Tonight I will have to give the kittens lots of hugs before they go tomorrow. I will miss their stupid, pretty, rascally faces. 

The 8th of January. 

Not feeling quite so shitty today. Everything is still the same, I’ve just had a reasonable amount of sleep. Praying the postman brings me an appointment for a venogram tomorrow. Or someone calls me. Please. 

Shaki came this morning to pick up the kittens so they could go to Exeter. They were very scrabbly and did not want to go, which I took to mean that they will miss me. It meant we had to get them into the carrier very quickly, so I didn’t really get to say a proper goodbye. Probably a good thing or I might have had a cry. 

When they were gone, I had to call a potential adopter, then I finished my blanket. I’m not sure when I’ll use it, but it’s fun. 

We took Grandma to Miller and Carter for lunch because it’s her birthday tomorrow. I had scallops and then brisket, which I managed to eat quite successfully. Mash and gravy were very handy aids to mastication. 

Since getting home, I have begun making a jumper. I’m using the pattern from the last jumper I made, but with quite a lot of alterations – it’ll be shorter, have a narrower body, longer and narrower sleeves, and a smaller neckline. Just a little bit different. 

The 5th of January. 

I had a really good sleep, although some weirdly complicated dreams. One involved Victoria Beckham being a dog with glorious pink hair. As you do. 

Decided to ring the dental hospital again because the ulcer on top of my tongue is making it difficult to eat stuff. Chewing is hard. Unfortunately, the usual receptionist (the very obliging David) wasn’t there and the guy today didn’t understand that I am special and they always squeeze me in. Then it turned out Mrs. Richards wasn’t even there, but John Higham was in this afternoon and he could fit me in because he is an angel. 

I did a blog post, then continued with the crocheting of the blanket. I also went to say hi to the kittens after they all mewed at me while I was in the bathroom, and I ended up getting damp jeans because I sat on a bit of blanket that they like to knead and suck on simultaneously (I know, it’s disgusting, but they think it’s like their mum). 

After lunch, we went up to the dental hospital and saw John, who looked at my tongue, and didn’t really want to give me another injection because it is just uncontrolled steroid into the bloodstream, once it leaves the tongue, so instead he’s prescribed this steroid paste stuff that I have to put on. I’ve been warned that it is gritty and gross but I’m sure I’ll cope. It can’t be worse than the sensation of vomiting up chunks of your own dead stomach tissue into your mouth. 

The 6th of January. 

My arm is stupidly, uncomfortably big. I can only just get a jacket on now. I really hope this venogram happens PDQ because I want to be able to wear clothes other than huge jumpers. 

This morning, I went out with Shaki to meet a new fosterer. We spent about an hour and a half there with her, her husband, occasional cat-sitter (who will also be a registered fosterer) and current cats. One was not at all interested in investigating us, but the other one was in my jacket, scarf, bag and Shaki’s skirt. She was wanting much petting. 

Once we’d gone through all the relevant information, we then made trips to Lee’s, Lydon’s and Pets at Home in search of the gastro food to tide our kittens over until they go on Sunday. 

This afternoon, Daddy and I went to see Rogue One (finally). We were the only ones in there which is always fun, and it meant that I wasn’t annoyed by anyone else. The film was alright – I was almost irritated that it didn’t then go into episode IV with the destruction of the Death Star, but it was enjoyable enough. I liked the sassy robot. 

This evening I’m trying the steroid paste for my mouth. It’s not so bad.