Archives For ill

The 1st of May.

I feel like crap. I think I might have caught what Mommy had.

I had a better night in my nice, warm, double bed, but I am still exhausted. Need a few more sleeps before I catch up.

My intention for today was to write about the weekend and maybe even blog about it, but the reality has been sitting in the armchair (which feels just divine compared to my wheelchair/the car) and watching tv we recorded. Trying not to cough which is difficult because my throat is all scratchy. I had a honey and lemon but it was not particularly helpful.

Ohhh I don’t want to be ill again. Especially if it’s a common virus because they always make me feel like shit and last so much longer than they should, the bastards. Going to have some Strepsils and an early night.

The 2nd of May.

Trying to work out if I am ill or just tired from the weekend. I really hope it’s the latter. My sats have been up and down, and I have this dry cough that is hard to alleviate. Strepsils have not been much good.

I have been quite pathetic all day, curled up in my most comfortable clothes. Soft jumper and jogging bottoms. Still a big jumper because my arm is still the same size, so we rang Andrew’s secretary this morning. I need to be in his clinic on Thursday. John and Maddie’s wedding is in a month and I don’t fancy looking like a freak. The thing is, I don’t know what else can be done.

This afternoon, I finally got round to finishing writing about Saturday. I have yet to do Sunday. It took a couple of hours, but that was because I was half-watching recorded programmes at the same time. It’s going to be a long post when it comes.

Mommy went to pick up Sam from Lee’s, so I’ve been in to sit with him for a while too, and have been floofed on. He’s settled right back in.

UGH my body is fucked.

The 29th of June. 

Last night it still took a while to fall asleep, but I didn’t wake up and need to drink a lot of water so that’s a plus. Still getting light-headed every time I have a big cough though; I have to force a pause to stop myself going too far. I need to make an appearance on Hallfield Day on Saturday, and right now I think it might be quite brief. 

This morning we had a fun job of looking through the litter tray to check what the kittens’ poos were like, because last night, one of them was upsetting. I spoke to Shaki to discuss handover, and I’m going to meet her at the vet on Friday afternoon so they can have their first jabs and go home with her. I don’t have a carrier big enough for all five but apparently one will be dropped off for us. 

This afternoon, I went upstairs to try to sort out some stuff to take with me on holiday. We’re going to Weymouth and I find it impossible to choose clothing because a) I like to have options and b) it’s Britain so who knows what the weather will do? I procrastinated by updating my iPod and finding powerpacks and camera batteries to charge. I listened to the second heat of the BBC Radio New Comedy Award which Nish hosted, and I really enjoyed everyone unlike the first heat. I wanted Olga Kokh to win, but she came runner up to Michael Odewale. I liked him too though, so I wasn’t as irritated as I might have been. I really ought to keep note of all the people I enjoy. 

The 30th of June. 

When people who aren’t used to it hear me coughing, they must think I have TB or something equally disastrous. I was at the chiro this morning and I couldn’t suppress the cough for that long, so I was offered water and then gin if that would help. Trine had a fair few things to work on, what with me having been doing this for a good three weeks now. She asked about my x-ray and I explained about the lack of reporting. I knew she could do one, they have the equipment, but unless the hospital say they’ve lost the original, she cannot expose me to more radiation. I have liver clinic relatively soon, and I think James will try to sort something out for me because he is a top fellow. We also had a chat about the referendum, as she is from Norway, so she couldn’t vote, but is married to a Brit and has been here for years. She despairs as much as I do. 

Speaking of which – Boris! Or no Boris, as it happens. This is really all going a bit too far now. Gove pitching in is bizarre too, the man who has previously said he has absolutely no interest in being the leader, doesn’t have the capacity, but suddenly he’s realised that actually, Boris is a nincompoop who you wouldn’t trust to run a bath, let alone the country, not to mention a coward and a liar. Let’s not even discuss Labour. 

The 27th of June. 

Five kittens is too many. I am not sure I can do this again, at least not with kittens who, once they are all out of the cage, refuse to let me pick them up. Mommy got bitten earlier when trying to get Nova back into the cage. They’ve all been out since lunchtime so we’ve spent the afternoon doing shifts babysitting. 

I had a better sleep last night, less rumbly. I am hoping it was not a one-off. Maybe things are improving. This morning I did a blog post and some crocheting – I’m over halfway through the blanket (I think – I’m pretty much making it up so it may not be big enough when I get to what should be the end, we shall see). 

I went to see the kittens before lunch, then Nova escaped. I kept the other four in, and tried to get her to come back but she wouldn’t. I figured she couldn’t cause a great deal of damage on her own, so left her while we ate, then I went back. We decided to let them all out so the litter tray could be changed, then the plan was that I would tempt them back in with lunch once they’d expended some energy. This did not work. Some of them ate, and eventually they all settled down for naps in various places around the room. I have another plan for later, but for now I just have to go back in and get hissed at until teatime. 

The 28th of June. 

So the good night was an anomaly. Ugh. Ages to get to sleep again, and time spent awake, drinking all the water to try to quell the cough. 

I had a text from Vlad this morning to check how I’m getting on, so I updated him, and he knows he still won’t see me at the gym for a while. Still, all the coughing burns calories, so some involuntary exercise is going on. 

This afternoon I have been crocheting, just crocheting. I made a mouse for the kittens to play with, then back to the blanket. I bet it’s going to be too small. Blankets are not very satisfying; I don’t think I’ll do many. 

I am going to parliament two weeks today. It is going to be incredibly interesting, partly to see who actually is there and what they have to say. It’s a reception for Anthony Nolan, but it is going to be really difficult to discuss anything other than Brexit and the ramifications of that. I’m doing my best to think positively about it but it’s challenging. Part of me thinks “Why do it? When a majority of only 4% want to change everything? When they won’t actually get the things they voted for, and they didn’t understand what the consequences would be?” Just say it was a huge mistake, and we’ll move on. But there’s too much ego at stake for anyone to actually be sensible. 

The 25th of June. 

It appears I should have done a blog post this morning. Whoops. Oh well, I shall do it tomorrow. 

I still feel horrific in regards to both the referendum and my cough. Mommy refuses to discuss it (the referendum, not the cough) because I get too upset and I think she is concerned about my blood pressure. 

I’ve spent most of my day trying to earn the trust of the new kittens. Three are generally okay with me – the two black ones and the tortoiseshell, but the other two are really not that keen. Actually that’s not entirely the case, only one still backs away from my hand, but because they look so similar, I’ve no idea which one it is. 

This afternoon, I was watching Netflix while they were in the cage (letting them all out to run around on my own is quite a task) and Daddy came in to say hello to them. He was on his hands and knees, giving them all a stroke and having a little chat, and I just thought this was highly amusing seeing as he was not that thrilled with the fostering idea in the first place. 

My shoulder and neck muscles are beginning to ache from all this. By my calculations, I’ve had this particular cough for about ten days, two weeks max, so I think I can expect at least another week. I hope it’s not much longer. 

The 26th of June. 

So tired. I was awake off and on all night because my throat kept getting really dry, so I had to keep drinking to stop the coughing. I seem to be less terrible during the day, then towards the evening, my chest starts rumbling and the cough is constant, and I can’t stop until I’ve shifted the phlegm that’s decided to move. Gah!

This morning I did yesterday’s blog post, and we have more giant crumpets, so that at least cheered me up about life. Craig David was on Sunday Brunch, which took me back to the good old days of Re-Rewind, when I was about ten years old and life was simple. I immersed myself in that while I heard of Jeremy Corbyn’s cabinet dropping like flies. British politics is an absolute disaster right now. 

After lunch was kitten time. They still hiss at me when I go in, but then they allow me to stroke them so I don’t know, they’re just daft. I did manage to pick up three (one at a time) and they let me hold them on my lap and pet them, and as soon as they got a bit wiggly, I put them back in. I get the feeling Nola (big black one) is going to be one of those cats that likes to sit like a human. I think that by the time they have to leave, we might be friends. 

The 19th of June. 

I have hand cramp after too much crocheting. Cramp has blighted me today – almost every coughing fit makes my abdominal muscles spasm, and when I was blow-drying my hair earlier, my left hand seized up. So all in all a very poor day for my muscles. 

I had to wrap Daddy’s Father’s Day presents and write his card before I went downstairs this morning, and he was very pleased with his apple brandy caramels and Ladybird Book of Dad. I wrote up a blog post, watched Sunday Brunch, and started crocheting a kitten blanket. I also found that now the coughing fits are making me light-headed, and if it gets any worse we’ll have to get the oxygen cylinders back out. I actually have oxygen clinic on Wednesday but they won’t be making me do things with a cylinder on, just making sure I still need it. Yep, it’s very useful. I’ve already added in the third pillow at night, so I’m sleeping more upright. If I try to get too horizontal, I just can’t stop coughing. 

This afternoon has been quiet, just curled up crocheting. My default activity when I am poorly and don’t want to engage my brain. 

The 20th of June. 

Every day I do not cough in the future I will be grateful. It is exhausting. I don’t sleep well, then I spend all day suppressing coughs until they explode out of me with such ferocity that I end up bent double and gasping for breath. Stupid phlegm and germs, ruining my life. I am boosting the sales of tissue companies though. 

I’m not going to dress it up – I have sat in front of the tv all day and worked on a blanket. I have at least made a dent in the amount of programmes on the TiVo box. I realised that 36 episodes of Parks and Rec had built up, so I watched six of those, then moved on to Russell Howard’s Comedy Central. I also spoke to Christine who is a poorly puffin too. She has very bad stomach ache, like she needs to be sick but hasn’t been, yet she still stopped to help a lady carry a pram up about four flights of stairs. We are not having a great time. 

That is pretty much it for today. Tomorrow will be much the same, I think – on my own all day because Mommy and Daddy are taking Grandma up north to see her pals. I decided not to join because nobody wants to spend at least six hours in a confined space with me and my phlegm, and I don’t want to give what I’ve got to old ladies. Do not think they would appreciate that. 

The 17th of June. 

Oh dear, I feel ghastly. I seem to have rid myself of one cough to pick up another one which is worse. I didn’t sleep well because my nose was partially blocked so I had to breathe through my mouth, I kept waking up to cough…I really didn’t want to get out of bed. 

This morning, I got my blog post done, then went to let the kittens out for the first time since we brought them home yesterday. They were delighted and ran around like mad things. The food bowl was turned upside down, dried food all over the floor, just chaos. Eventually, Gabby got under the bed, so I put the other two back in the cage and just had to wait for her to emerge.

After lunch, Daddy and I went to see The Nice Guys. It is a bit ridiculous – it’s entertaining, lots of action, although I had the problem I often have when there’s shooting in films – why can’t people who are supposedly using guns a great deal such terrible shots, even when they’ve got a machine gun? It irks me greatly. Also, for any fans of very old America’s Next Top Model, Yaya from Cycle 3 is in it! She has not aged at all. 

I really want to go to bed, but it’s only quarter to eight. Maybe I’ll go upstairs after Would I Lie To You, take some Zopiclone, no dreams. 

The 18th of June. 

I am exhausted. I had two Zopiclone last night but they didn’t knock me out like they usually do; it took a lot longer than normal, but I don’t know if that was because I couldn’t get my breathing right, and everything needs to work together for the tablets to be effective. So I have the “hangover” without the benefit. 

There is no impulse to move if I don’t have to, and every three or four breaths, my chest starts rumbling and I have to shift the phlegm. Sometimes one cough will get it up, but more likely is that I’ll have to keep forcing them out until my throat clears. Then I’ll need to blow my nose and what feels like gallons of junk comes out; I don’t know where in my head it’s being stored but it just keeps coming. I’ve got decongestant and an olbas inhaler to keep my sinuses clear and carbocisteine to keep the phlegm from sticking anywhere, but other than that, I can only wait for it to bugger off when is ready. Fuck you, lung disease. 

The adoptions both went off without a hitch, everybody behaved themselves and I’ve heard that Gabby and Gabe (now Florence and Freddie) are out and pottering about, and I haven’t spoken to Eliott who took Gracie but I’m going to assume no news is good news. 

When everyone was gone, I sat and filled in paperwork and registered all the microchips, and since then, I have flooped.

The 1st of March. 

Bleah I feel rubbish. Barely slept because I was coughing and sneezing. The house had no heating because the boiler man was coming so it all had to be switched off. I’ve been in the knitted joggers and my extra warm thermal polo neck and they did the job of the radiators until the boiler was fixed. 

That’s all there is to say about today. I have been taking Day & Night Nurse, Carbocisteine, Strepsils, plus spraying my tongue with the strong steroid because an ulcer is trying to happen there. Going to clinic tomorrow to get some antibiotics because I’m bringing up yellow junk. Hopefully I can get some of it into a sample pot in the morning so they can test it. 

God, I hope this doesn’t last long. 

The 2nd of March. 

I don’t feel totally terrible. I could do with more sleep and I wish I weren’t coughing up junk but at least I’m not feeling completely wretched. I barely slept again, then got up at eight so we could go to clinic to get me some antibiotics. I put myself in the side room, because if I’d been anyone else in clinic, I’d want the person filled with germs isolated. When I had my bloods done, I got a sample pot which I managed to hawk from yellow stuff into and now that’s off being analysed and cultured. Ram listened to my chest and heard the ever-present crackles in my lower right lung, and he gave me some Co-amoxiclav and sent me for a chest x-ray. I forgot how big those tablets are. 

We got home just before half past one, avoiding all the swirling snow we’d seen earlier. I had scrambled eggs for lunch because my tongue is bothering me. Right now it just feels raw and sore, especially if I eat something acidic. Talking is also a little bit tricky. If it lasts longer than a few days, I’m going to have to get injected again. 

Obviously that is a boiled egg and soldiers which I had for lunch on Tuesday, I have not lost the plot completely.