Archives For cinnamon

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 2nd of June. 

Such a long day of driving. We got up, packed the car and set off to pick up Taid from New Street. Unfortunately, the assistance people at Llandudno forgot about him so they didn’t put him on his train, and they had to put him on the next one. That meant he had to change at Shrewsbury, not Crewe, and he got to us forty minutes later than he should have. Not very impressive.

Once we’d got him in the car, we then drove to the excellent service station in Gloucester, the one where they have a farm shop. We had some food, then I went to wander round the farm shop. I got a cinnamon swirl from the Richard Bertinet bakery, and two chocolate brownies – one classic chocolate for me, and one salted peanut brittle for Christine.

Back in the car! I spent my whole journey listening to the Do You Like Scary Podcasts? podcast about Scream (the tv series), trying to catch up to where I’ve watched. I had to stop when we got near Taid’s hotel, because then I had to start looking at Google maps to work out where we needed to go. It was very stressful because poor signal meant I couldn’t accurately see where we were, so we made a couple of wrong turns and it took a bit longer than it should have. Still, we got there in the end! Then we had to pick up Christine from the station here and get to the Tesco in Newton Abbot by 6 to pick up our order from the click and collect. We got there with two minutes to spare! Phew.

Then all we had to do was get to the house. Thankfully, that did not take very long, just the roads at the end were a bit narrow and windy. Great fun in a people carrier. Now we have had fish and chips for dinner, as is traditional, and will be doing our best to get a good sleep before tomorrow’s wedding festivities!

The 3rd of June. 

I highly recommend being ill directly before a wedding. Everyone is so much more delighted to see you! Well done me for attending.

I had a pretty reasonable sleep, only woken by the bright morning light about 5 but I was able to ignore it. I got up and dressed into my wedding outfit straight away – it’s hard enough to get dressed once, I’m not going to put one set of clothes on to get changed a few hours later. I had some breakfast and Mommy went get me a coffee (thankfully there is a shop that sells a decent flat white nearby), then I had to put make up on for the first time in about a month. Thankfully, it was not too uncomfortable for my eyes, although they were not loving it. So many eye drops.

We arrived at the church about half an hour early and it was entertaining trying to get the wheelchair in. The hardest bit was the gravel outside – the wheels did not cope well. I had to be pushed for a while. Actually inside the church, it was fine, I just drove it down the aisle and parked it, then sat in a pew with Mommy and Christine, and Daddy sat behind.

The ceremony was very traditional, and it involved the Eucharist in which I obviously did not partake. We sung some songs, including a curious rendition of One More Step Along The Way I Go – the organist didn’t seem to know the rhythm, so the end of every verse was unknown territory. When we came out, a guard of honour had been created with oars (John’s family row, Maddie’s sail) so we all waited for them to come out so they could be covered in confetti (which blended into my hair very well), then we all got in our cars to go to Exeter Castle for the reception.

There was much milling about at this point, the way people do at weddings while waiting for the food to start. I decided against having any Pimms, I thought it would be wise to stick with one type of alcohol if I was going to drink. Just wine for me. We had a brief rain shower, and the Red Arrows did a fly past (not for us but a nice surprise all the same), then it was time to go and eat! It was past 3 o’clock by this point, so we were all quite hungry. Christine and I were on a table with two of John’s cousins, a family friend of Maddie’s, another friend of Maddie’s, and three of John’s friends from medical school/university. It was a good group! There were two short speeches before we ate, from Maddie’s stepdad and her mum, then it was time for deep-fried camembert. So good, but so viscous. I felt like my mouth was stuck together, but for delicious reasons so who cares? The main course was brought out on boards – chicken with stuffing, plus bowls of vegetables, so we had to serve ourselves. Our method involved getting someone to stab you a bit of chicken, and the vegetables got passed around. The parsnips were excellent. The dessert was wedding cake, and very good it was too. Then John did his speech and it was very sweet – I nearly did a cry, but managed to hold them in. Giles, the best man’s speech followed, which was very funny, although not long enough (we had a sweepstake running on our table and my guess was way off).

After that, we all congregated outside for more photos before the evening festivities. There was a room for dancing, the bar, and a chill out room, plus an outside terrace. I started out in the dancing room, although purely as an observer – I can barely walk, so dancing is very much out of the question. There was a big old Ceilidh which was very entertaining but looked knackering, then John and Maddie had their first dance. Once other people started joining in, I went outside and sat in the remaining sun with Sophie and we mainly talked about cats and babies until it got cold, and I went back inside to find the dancing room empty and most people in the bar. I found a chair at the side and texted Mommy to find out how much longer we were going to stay because I was pooped. Thankfully, they agreed that it was time we ought to head off, particularly as we had to take Taid back to his hotel, so I said my goodbyes to the happy couple and went back to the car for some oxygen. We made the right choice, because by the time we got back to the house, I was ready to sleep. Well, eat some toast, then have sleep.

The 12th of March. 

I had a minor breakdown last night. I got very sad and scared about my current state, and had to be careful not to let the tears start flowing because that would have made everything worse. Infections can cause permanent damage, and I am really, really worried that I will not return to the way I was in November, which is the last time I remember feeling relatively good. If I continue to struggle so much every time I move, my life as I know it will change forever, again. I want to still be able to walk around my house feeling okay, able to go into The Glee and climb the stairs without being so scarily out of breath that I am frozen in my seat because even thinking about anything else seems to make it harder. If I have to keep using oxygen at home then we are going to have to stop fostering kittens, because they will play with and chew up the tubing. Then, if I can’t foster, I certainly don’t want to be in charge of homing anymore because it would be torture. 

Basically, if I do not recover to a satisfactory degree, I do not want to live like that. But I don’t want to die. And I don’t know where that leaves me. I will talk to the doctors tomorrow morning, find out if we’ve grown anything specific yet, and if they think there will be any long-term effects from this. I suspect it will take a lung function test in a couple of months to know for definite, because it could take a good 6-8 weeks to really get over this. And I hate waiting. 

I had a nice break today. My only mero dose was at 2, and the doctors had said that if I wanted to go out between doses that was fine, so I asked Daddy to come and pick me up, then we went home where I had a boiled egg and soldiers for lunch, and Mommy washed my hair. It has needed doing for at least a week, so it is nice for it to feel soft and fluffy again. 

Mommy and I came back at two, when I had my mero, and the nurse was very keen to start weaning me off the oxygen again, despite the test the other day. I agreed to swap to the low flow meter, so we can bring it down in smaller increments. Started at 0.8 litres and that was okay, then at six I came down to 0.5. I don’t feel very comfortable, but my sats are 99/100, so I’m okay, and I’m going to persevere. When I started on one litre, I felt like this, and it got better, so I’ll try. I’ll still have the small cylinder on 1 litre when I move because I will definitely need the extra then. 

While I was at home, Mommy made cinnamon swirls! We are so basic – she happened to see cinnamon swirl dough in a tin, which is literally a can of dough that is about five inches long? You open the can, and slice up the length of dough, then bake and add some icing! I haven’t had one yet though – we have brought them to hospital and I am going to have one with Dean tomorrow as he’s coming in for some chemo and is going to come see me beforehand. He is also an enormous cinnamon bun fan so it is only right that I share. 

The 13th of March. 

I had a very quiet but productive morning, and a very busy and fun afternoon. It’s been pretty nice. 

I decided I should really update my blog, because I’d been putting it off until I could be bothered to type up what I wrote for Mommy’s birthday surprise day, but it had really been too long of a hiatus for me to carry on procrastinating. There wasn’t actually as much to write up as I thought, so it wasn’t too intensive. Uploading the photos took a little while because of the WiFi, but one can’t expect miracles. I have been writing my journal updates in the Notes on my phone since I was admitted, because it hurt my arm too much to physically write when I first had the chest drain, so I have just carried on since then. Plus it made it quicker when I came to actually do the blog posts. I still have to write them into my diary but that can wait. 

With six posts to do, that took pretty much my entire morning. A different doctor is on the ward this week, Dr. Khan, but he hadn’t got much news – still nothing specific has grown, the pneumonia test that they sent off to Heartlands hasn’t come back yet but apparently it sounds like it could be that from my symptoms (I really don’t know anymore), and they would take some more bloods today to see what my CRP is doing. I’ve checked but they’re not back yet. 

Dean was planning to come and see me at midday after he’d been admitted for chemo, but things were hectic on YPU so he was delayed. That was fine, I just sat and did some crocheting until Vicky arrived at half past two with coffee and hugs. I spent a lot of time explaining what has been going on because she only had my instagram to go on, and we were amused by the doctor coming to take my blood and being surprised by us both knowing so much medical language and being so aware of how this all works. It happens when it’s been your life for so long!

Dean appeared at my window just after half past three and couldn’t stay very long as he had to go back to start his chemo, but I gave him a swirl and he gave us both copies of the magazine he has just launched (it’s called Hiskind and yes he has launched a magazine while having treatment for cancer he’s fucking amazing). We had a little bit of chat but he’s going to come back tomorrow because he’s only on fluids during the day. 

Vicky left about five, and Mommy had arrived by then. Oh I forgot, I was also dropped in on by Philippa and Kirsty while both Dean and Vicky were here, so I have been quite the social butterfly! 

I am doing this as University Challenge has started and hearing the voice of Monkman made me sit up with excitement. I think he is even better than the guy who wore the leather vest. 

The 26th of November. 

A relatively more exciting day. This morning, Mommy and I went to the German market again as there were foods I wanted to get. On the way, I got a replacement Babydoll mascara from YSL, and a card for Fiona and Nick for Friday. 

I decided to have an ostrich burger with Jack Daniels onions which was nice enough but not worth £6, and a cinnamon/chocolate doughnut which was very tasty. 

Since we got back, I’ve been working on a scarf for Grandma for Christmas. Making good progress but it’s not tremendously exciting. 

Tonight I am really tired and I have to get up early as we’re picking up Grandma at nine to go to the food show. That will be lots of fun though – I plan on eating all the things!

The 27th of November. 

Good Food Show day! I had to get up early, so my body didn’t really rest overnight m and now I am drained. 

We arrived just after half nine, so after collecting my mobility scooter (necessary because Mommy was pushing Grandma so couldn’t push me, I can’t self-propel, ergo scooter), I went in search of a good coffee and I found a flat white of acceptable standard at The Shack Revolution. I drank it while planning my day, parked in the corner at the Saturday Kitchen stage, after I’d bumped into Miss Mold (my head of key stage 3 from school and terrifying back in the day) and so we had a chat. She is exactly the same, minus the terror. 

I watched Glynn Purnell do the omelette challenge, then I went off to go round all the stalls I had my eye on. I bought a set of 3 chocwiches from 5d chocolates, 2 brownies (Nutella and Oreo) and a corker from The Brownie Bar, a brownie from Gower Cottage and another one from Tarte and Berry. I also got some whisky marmalade, some shortbread and a bottle of carrot, orange and apple juice. I sampled nearly all the juices from b. fresh. For my lunch, I had a burger from The Naked Sausage and it was so much better than the one I had yesterday. Beef, sliced and cheese put in the middle, caramelised onions, Jack Daniels barbecue sauce. So good. After I’d stuffed all that in my face, I met up with Mommy and Grandma and we came home!

By the time we left, I was so sick of pedestrians and being in a scooter. Nobody has any spacial awareness and they just glare at you if they have to make any slight movement to accommodate you. At so many points, I just wanted to cry in frustration. Sometimes everything seems so difficult.