Archives For new year

The 1st of January.

Happy New Year!

I am very warm and very sleepy. Staying up until half past one and only getting eight hours of sleep is not good for me. I know, eight hours, woe is me. I have had a small coffee so that should keep me going until bedtime.

It’s been a very sedate New Year’s Day. This morning I wrote my last blog post of 2017; will have to retire that diary to the collection in my bedroom. I’m annoyed that Moleskine have stopped doing The Little Prince stuff but this will do. I also finished the shawl! Finally. I will not be using that wool again – it’s so full of static. Then I went to give the kittens some individual cuddletime, especially Amber as she didn’t get any yesterday.

Grandma came for lunch, and we had duck and goose, not that I could tell the difference between the two. Both tasty though. And leftover puddings for pudding, because we were building up a larder.

This afternoon has been film-watching and trying not to overheat. I had some good news this morning – enough tickets to Still Standing have sold to pay the venue! Now, as long as the insurance is paid off, all extra sales go to Anthony Nolan. Got to have a chat with them about some press.

The 2nd of January.

My ribcage hurts where I had the chest drain, has done all day. I don’t know why – my breathing is no worse than normal, and I haven’t made any weird movements. I’m at the chiro tomorrow, so maybe Trine will be able to help.

Said goodbye to Christine this morning because Daddy was driving her back to Twickenham, then Mommy and I spent until lunchtime inventorying my wool. Went through both boxes and worked out what belongs together, by brand, colour, weight etc. It took ages! But now I know what I have and I can decide what to use for projects I’ve already got in mind.

This afternoon, I started reading Gnomon, and sat with the kittens so they could roam around while I watched the first two episodes of How to Get Away with Murder season three. I know I’m very behind but it’s only just come on Netflix. Amber and I are becoming quite good friends now. Ava not so much, she still runs away a lot. Will have to bribe her with treats.

The 30th of December.

Is today worse than New Year’s Eve? I think so. The tv is definitely very poor – I had no interest in any of the films on today. I have set Carrie to record tonight but that is not for festive viewing.

This morning I wrote up a blog post, then watched Raymond Blanc dick around on Saturday Kitchen while crocheting the never ending shawl.

After lunch, I had a hairwash, then sat and watched three episodes of Black Mirror while the kittens ran around the room for the first time. First up was Crocodile – thought it was good, interesting premise, to see how far Mia will go, nice twist. Next, USS Callister – I really liked this one. The contrast between the 70’s Space Fleet and the hypermodern present in which the characters and game exist was great, and there was just the right balance of psychopathy and emotion. Really smart. Last I saw Hang the DJ – this seems to be the one most discussed in promo so I was a little bit wary but it lived up to the hype. I loved Georgina Campbell in this role, a much more likable character than the ones she played in Broadchurch and One of Us. I just really liked the concept and the ending. Good work, Brooker. I’m saving Arkangel and Black Museum until last because I think they’ll be the best. We’ll see.

The 31st of December.

2017 has been a weird year. Physically, I spent the first half of the year feeling like shit with pneumonia and constantly coughing. The second half was spent waiting for appointments, trying to figure out why my arm is still the same, desperate for pain relief for my back, and discovering that the diminished lung function I’d been experiencing since the pneumothorax is permanent.

Emotionally, it’s been pretty miserable. Feeling like an invalid for six months was incredibly depressing – it had been a long time since I’d felt so weak, like I was going to die every time I did something simple. Needing oxygen purely to exist felt humiliating. Then as I started to improve, Dean was going downhill, and we lost him. I haven’t been hit so hard by a death for years. We made no progress on my arm for the entire year, and everyone is still baffled. My back continues to decline, to the point where now I can barely stand. And my lungs are a disaster, so much so that an anaesthetist won’t put me under for even a short procedure.

There were some high points. Taking Mommy to The Ritz, Machynlleth, John and Maddie’s wedding, the Anthony Nolan summer reception, Regina Spektor, my ten year diagnosis anniversary, Amusical, meeting Peter and Sophie’s twins, Christmas at home.

Those were all lovely, but my memories are marred by my body’s myriad of problems. It’s really hard to enjoy things when everything is a trial.

I just want 2018 to be bearable. I’m not hoping for miracles, I just don’t want to feel wretched all the time. I’d like to definitively know what is wrong with my arm and whether we can fix it. I want to be able to move around my house without such immense difficulty, so one of my resolutions is to start exercising again. Nothing vastly energetic, but I know I can build up some muscle mass to at least make things slightly easier. I want to read at least two books a month – I am just accumulating them and they continue to mount up without me making any sort of dent in the pile. I am going to crochet an item of clothing I can wear that is not a hat, scarf or pair of mittens. And I am going to take more photos with people at happy times. I have no photos of me and Dean and it devastates me.

I ended the year the way I always do, or at least the way I always want to – champagne and Christmas cake with my family, in front of the fire. Grateful to be here.

The 1st of January. 

Happy New Year! Not feeling my best – not hungover (obviously, my tongue can’t cope with alcohol), but all the rest of my body is still misbehaving. My feet have been quite calm today, but other things are not so good: my hands and fingers are still sore, my right arm is still massive, and I woke up with really sensitive eyes again. Think I might have to go see someone at the eye hospital. Not to mention my ulcerated tongue. Oh and I’m still coughing, so yeah, not a great start to the year. 

Most of today has been crocheting. This morning I sat with the kittens while blogging and watching New Year Brunch. Grandma came for the afternoon, and we had game casserole for New Year’s Day lunch, followed by sticky toffee pudding with extra chopped up fudge. 

I then spent two and a half hours crocheting the green stripe of my blanket and watching Mirror Mirror, occasionally massaging the base of my right thumb to stop it cramping up. 

She shuffles around,

Turning the lights out,

Closes the window,

Checks on the locks. 

Folds up the blanket,

Empties the bottle 

And leaves it in the hallway, dark. 

She’s just glad she gets to be around

To see another Spring to come to this town. 

Happy New Year, Happy New Year 

To you.

The 2nd of January. 

Bleah, I feel like garbage. My eye is sore again today, and everything else is still the same, maybe my hands and feet are marginally better? Plus now I’m sporting multiple scratches from the kittens because they hate the worming medicine. Thankfully today was the last day they need to have it. 

Daddy drove Christine home today, so they left at about 11 after she got a bit sad saying goodbye to the kittens. Speaking of whom, they will be disappearing to an adoption centre on Wednesday or Thursday. Then I will be sad. 

This afternoon I did mainly crocheting and watching Nashville (I have eight episodes on the box to watch, and I got through two). Shaki came round just after half three to show me this Cats Protection database system called Catalog (see what they did there?) and ended up staying for two hours talking about all sorts of branch stuff. Lots of change afoot and streamlining of some areas which will hopefully make life easier. 

I need a really big sleep. Tomorrow we need to ring the QE because I need to see someone about the mess that is my body, and I need to start ringing potential adopters again.

The 30th of December. 

Success! I went to Blenheim and my toes did not become agonisingly freezing. 

This morning, Jen came round to visit the kittens. She hasn’t seen them since she fell, so she was amazed by how much they’ve grown. That was a good four weeks ago now, and kittens can grow a lot in a month. Looking back at photos of them when they first arrived, I can certainly see it. Tiny Tim settled in on her lap, which makes sense as he had to be hand-reared by her separately for a while because he was a tiddler. 

She left about midday, then after lunch, there wasn’t a great deal of time to do much except give the kittens their worming medicine (which they have learned they do not like) and feed them before going out to Blenheim.

I love long drives because I get to listen to entire albums while watching the world go by. On the way down, it was Elements by Kina Grannis, and Pillars by Josh Record on the way home. We arrived earlier than our allotted time, so went for a hot chocolate before going to the trail. We took the manual wheelchair, which definitely the right decision because there was loads of mud, tree roots and dodgy gradients. It would have been impossible. But we got round, occasionally requiring teamwork, but it was very pretty and I’m really glad I went. At the end, we had “posh dogs” and hog roast sandwiches, before removing as much mud from my wheels as possible and driving home. Good evening. 

The 31st of December.  

New Year’s Eve and nobody we love has died today. Soon it will be over. As long as nobody major dies in the next few weeks, 2017 might be alright. However, things are looking dodgy for the Queen so it might all go tits up early doors. 

It has been a very quiet day. Pyjama morning, painted nails, all the puzzles in the weekend Guardian. We had roast rib of beef for lunch, which took some time because eating anything that requires much chewing is still quite problematic. 

Most of my day has just been sitting in front of the tv, crocheting my blanket. I had to order another ball of wool to do the fin of said blanket and had an email to say it had been left in a safe place but it very much has not. Stupid lying courier. So far I’ve got an orange stripe and a yellow stripe. Green next – it’s going to be a rainbow. 

Although in the grand scheme of things, it’s been a terrible year, personally, it has not been too dreadful. I made a lot of cute things, hung out with a lot of cool people, took care of many tiny floofers, and got to start working with Anthony Nolan for a cause that I am really passionate about. 

2017 holds the promise of better times, only because I am not sure the world can get a great deal worse. At least we know it won’t be boring. 

The 1st of January. 

Well this is not the greatest way to start a year – hooked up to a constant 3 litres of oxygen, coughing a lot but nothing productive and being somewhat worried by the savage attack the wind is wreaking on the building. 

So my New Year’s Day has not been particularly eventful as one can imagine. Mommy, Daddy and Christine have all been here in various combinations, and in between them I even saw a doctor called Ben. He let me know that the correct type of CT has been ordered and everybody knows I am allergic to the dye, and that Igor is back tomorrow! I’m sure the joy felt at our reunion will be mutual. 

Daddy and Christine brought me a chocolate chip pancake which would have been lovely except for the fact that there were secret sultanas in it which were upsetting (sorry Christine ily) so I had some of my Buck’s Fizz marmalade on a breadbun instead. They went home for New Year’s Day lunch, which Mommy brought a plate of in for me to have warmed up, but I really didn’t have the appetite for anything. Daddy and Christine came back and we all watched Esio Trot together before they went home for the evening. I can’t talk a lot because it sets off coughing fits, but that’s okay. Being together is enough. 

The 2nd of January. 

Still no closer to knowing what’s wrong with me. Well, not totally true. I had a scan so hopefully someone will look at it tomorrow and might be able to give me a diagnosis. 

It seems my arms have nearly deflated, but my breathing is still utter dreadful, so we really are relying on the scan to tell us what’s what. I swear if there’s no one able to look at it tomorrow I will weep. 

Today I’ve written up eight days of blog posts in draft and my back really hurts. Combination of coughing, sleeping weirdly, sitting weirdly to breathe, compensating for all of that – it’s going to be hell next time I go to the chiropractor. Mommy brought me food and we had fun with masks as she went in and out of the room. Daddy came back to swap cars with her after he’d taken Christine back to Twickers, so he was a bit snoozy but that’s okay.

My viral swabs have not even come back from Heartlands yet. Do I even have the flu? Agggh. 



The 30th of December. 

I would very much like to sleep again now. Three nights have passed of me just constantly coughing with very little respite. This morning, the oxygen ran out so I was stuck for a good five hours until another one could  be delivered. 

Coughing makes everything so much harder, and my puffiness hasn’t really changed ; my arms are like sausages and I can barely see over my pudgy cheeks. 

I didn’t even contemplate getting out of bed until the oxygen arrived just after one, and since then I’ve just been tired and felt extraordinarily shitty. 

We’re going into clinic tomorrow. I would just like to know what is causing what!

The 31st of December. 

Well, it just wouldn’t be the Cartwright family festive period without me being in hospital. So I’m writing my New Year’s Eve entry from the TCT unit at the QE, feeling horrendous and having flashbacks to 2008/9 New Year in ward 8 post liver transplant. I think we went to sleep at about ten because we just didn’t care. This year my measly celebration has been a slice of Christmas cake. 

I didn’t really sleep again, but we were going to clinic anyway to see Ram. He looked at me and said “Well you look awful” so it’s good to know that the outside conveys how the inside is feeling. He said “We can’t send you home like this”. (Picture me, not speaking, no make up, doubled over, occasionally making weird hacking noises – it’s not good.)

So here I am in YPU on New Year’s Eve, being talked to through masks because of my potential flu. 

This year has been a tricky one. I need to look over it properly to really write a proper review. Right now, my overwhelming idea of 2014 is trying to come off steroids. 

Happy New Year, everybody. Be kind to each other, but more importantly, be kind to yourselves.





The 1st of January.

I rang in the New Year in the manner in which I intend to continue it; surrounded by family and friends, happy, full and safe.

Mommy helped me to bed at about half past one, and I fell into the sort of dreamless sleep that only alcohol provides. I eventually rose about twenty past nine, with a cracking headache and a general feeling of “ugh”. I don’t drink often, so my hangovers always seem worse. Breakfast and coffee helped.

Mommy and Daddy to get Grandma, and we had lunch of game casserole just after one. This afternoon, I drank more coffee and I finished The End of Men etc. I just wanted to floop all afternoon – I’ll be fine tomorrow, I just need another sleep.

Tonight we have eaten tiny food and I am in denial about the intermittent stabbing pains I’m having in my abdomen.

I’m terrified about the next cholangitis flare up. I am scared for the pain and the fact that I’ll be readmitted. I don’t want to go back, and I don’t want to go in and out for drugs again. And what if this is it? When I’m well, I can almost pretend this isn’t happening, and carry on with my life, but right now I’m just really afraid. I’m not ready yet.

The 2nd of January.

Today has been a sleepy day, because last night I had lorazepam in fear that all my stressful thoughts from last night wouldn’t go away. I was right.

So I slept well, but only until about half past seven. I got dressed in some jeans and Gryffindor cardigan, so I felt super-comfy.

Because today was basically a write-off day, I could do many errands and tick them off – I have ordered thank you cards, found my ASOS proof of delivery as I have yet to receive an email saying they’ve received my return parcel, found my cheque book, and done some tedious but necessary iCloud-type admin ¬†on my phone.

I have read no books today as it would have been pointless, but tomorrow I plan on actually leaving the house after the nurse comes.

I’m having an early night tonight.