Archives For Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

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. 



The 4th of August.

I have been sat in front of the computer in the dining room all day. More tickets for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child went on sale at 11am. 

First there was some stress because Chrome didn’t seem to be downloaded on Mommy’s account on the PC, so we had to do that before anything else. We got in the pre-queue easily; it seemed from Twitter that some people were having a lot of trouble. It didn’t matter what time you joined the pre-queue between ten and eleven; your place in the ticket-buying queue was a total lottery. We got number 38515. Some people I know got a better place, some worse. We just had to wait. 

After a couple of hours, we were able to deduce that we were going to be waiting until about eleven pm. Mommy had to take Grandma for her ultrasound, so I had to watch the screen. The website that I’m not on sold out just after half past one, so I was really glad Christine told us to use Nimax. 

To pass the time, I have been binge-watching Fringe (I have nearly two seasons to watch before it expires on the 14th) and crocheting the cookie jar kitten. I have been taking the morphine and so far it isn’t making a huge difference. It’s only three doses so I’m not surprised; I think it’ll take a couple of days. I haven’t been sick though so that’s a plus. I’ve finished the kitten, and now there’s only 2414 people ahead of me. It’s speeding up! I just hope we actually get some bloody tickets or I will probably cry. 

The 5th of August. 

Last night was one of the most awful I can remember having in recent memory. 

We got the Harry Potter tickets by half past seven, thank the literary/theatre gods, then it was teatime. I’d had my third dose of oramorph, and I’d felt a bit sick throughout the day but it had generally gone away. The evening meal seemed to make it so much worse. I couldn’t face even taking my normal tablets at bedtime, let alone another shot of morphine. No more of that please. 

I had to get upstairs, but once there, I just couldn’t leave the commode bucket. I knew I wasn’t getting to sleep until I’d thrown up; it was that kind of gut-wrenching, painful nausea that you know can only end one way. I sat on the floor in my pyjamas with my dressing gown around me, switching between too hot and too cold while watching more episodes of Fringe, seeing as I needed something to distract me. Mommy stayed until about half twelve when I sent her to bed (there was no point doing it any earlier because she would just lie awake waiting to hear me), when I thought it might be getting better. I very slowly managed to take my tablets, but I didn’t get into bed until about quarter to two. I watched one more Fringe, then lay not quite all the way back in the dark, holding a pillow/my forehead/digging my nails into my palms, listening but not paying attention to podcasts. This went on until half past four, at which point I was in absolute agony, far worse than the pain I’d been taking it for in the first place. Then I suddenly had to scramble out of bed and promptly vomited into the commode bowl, onto my pyjama bottoms and all over the carpet. I called out but nobody heard, then I threw up again, and again. I couldn’t go and get someone because there was sick on the floor that I didn’t want to stand in, so I rang our landline on my phone, and when it was answered I just wailed loudly. Mommy came back in (I realise from this description that it sounds like I live in a mansion and she was miles away but I don’t and she was next door) and helped me clean myself and the floor up, thankfully having been asleep so at least one of us was. The throwing up did make my stomach feel better, and I was able to actually lie down comfortably. I think I fell asleep at about half six, then woke up at half eight and again at ten, when I thought I should get up. So, three and a half hours of sleep. I feel so rested. 

To the daytime! First thing was that we spoke to the clinical nurses again, who recommended Oxycontin and if the GP couldn’t give us any today, to let them know and they’d sort it. We’d obviously missed all the morning appointments, so our next option was to ring or go and get an appointment in person at 2, and we thought in person would be better. 

We went out just after lunch, and got in to see Dr. Sangha at 4.20pm. He is my actual named GP so it’s nice to see him once in a while. I needed to go into town for some bits for a care package I am sending, so we had a trip there to kill time. I got all the pieces I wanted from Tiger, coffee (desperately needed), some make up from Superdrug that I couldn’t find in the one in Sutton, and a card and some tissue paper from Paperchase before we went back to the doctor’s.

He was running late, so I finally got Animal finished! So at least being so sick has got things done. When I got called in, he had a reg with him (I’m sure they had a fascinating chat afterwards), and we discussed what I needed. We went through what I’ve had so far, and now I’m written up for oxycontin, oxynorm and ondansetron just in case I feel sick again at all. Hopefully I don’t. 

Boots didn’t have the oxynorm so we need to get that tomorrow, and maybe things will start to get better?

The 31st of July.

I actually slept until the time I wanted to wake up this morning because I had two Zopiclone. It has made me a bit sleepy all day but I would feel like that anyway if I hadn’t slept so it’s swings and roundabouts. 

I was finishing my coffee this morning when Becky and James came round to say hi and receive Becky’s birthday presents that we couldn’t give her on the day itself because they were on camp. James is so tanned! Amazing. Whereas Becky just has burnt knees, bless her. She said hello to the kittens, and then they had to go so James could install their new cat flap, and we had to go out to collect my copy of the new Harry Potter book from Waterstones. 

After lunch, I watched the first episode of season four of Fringe, then I went up to my bedroom to read Harry Potter without any distractions. I started at about twenty past three and finished it by twenty to six. Yeah, I read fast. I was so glad Christine’s seen the play so I could text her with each revelation. It’s really good (if you’re a fan) and the fact that it’s a script didn’t really matter because all the imagery is already there in my brain, so I could just envision it all with just the speech and stage directions. I tweeted about reading it and was contacted by someone from Radio WM who wants me to go on the breakfast show between seven and seven thirty tomorrow morning. That’s fine; without Zopiclone I’ll probably be awake anyway. I have to review it without any spoilers. Difficult. There are a lot of twists, and I have many questions about a major part of the plot but maybe an explanation for that will emerge. I hope so. 

The 1st of August. 

Five am. Not surprised, the day after Zopiclone is never good. It didn’t really matter as I was supposed to be talking on WM about Cursed Child, but then someone phoned to ask if we could push it back to 8.30. I said that was fine and got up to have my breakfast as I was starving. I then got another call at about quarter to nine saying sorry and it would now be on drivetime between four and seven, and her news editor would call me to let me know what time. Nobody has; methinks they killed the item. Whatever. 

Once they’d phoned for the second time this morning, I knew I could get in the shower and washed my hair without any staining of my neck this time. When I came down, Oscar was in the garden climbing a tree to investigate a nest so I went to take lots of pictures, but when I got back to the house, I was so out of breath, it surprised me. Going up to three gabapentin must have started to affect my breathing (we’ve checked the leaflet and it does do that).

I spent my afternoon watching Mr. Robot and crocheting the flowerpot kitty. I wanted to watch it before, but didn’t want to pay for Amazon Prime just for that, but now it’s on the Universal channel (didn’t know that was a thing) so I saw the first two episodes and finished the little cat.

I’ve also been doing a lot of deleting stuff from my phone to free up space – I’ve gone from 6GB to 9.2 free. Progress. I suspect I may have to delete some podcasts which I really don’t want to do. 

Gabapentin seems to be giving me the trembles too. Agh.