The 5th of August.
Oh god such a long day. I am in so much pain. I got up at ten to five because we had to be at New Street for twenty to seven, and that is too early for a Saturday. When we got there, we bought coffee and breakfast pastries, then sat in the assistance office until it was train time.
Arriving at Euston, we did not have time to wait for even five minutes for the ramp, so we just sorted ourselves out. Bought lunch from Pret, and a coffee to put in the thermos for later (Olympic Park coffee is vile). Then we bombed down the road to St. Pancras and got on the javelin to Stratford. I got the last seat, by sheer dumb luck. Thankful, because I can’t stand for six minutes. Upon arrival, we had to join the queue of wheelchairs for the lift, then had to navigate Westfield, trying to find a way to get to the corner of John Lewis where we were meeting Christine. The first lift was broken, and marshals didn’t know where we should go, so we ended up going all the way to the other end of the mall to find a working lift, then doubled back so we could finally get on the correct route and meet Christine. Found her, then joined the crowds heading for the Olympic Stadium. Got settled in our seats, in the disabled position just above the start line, so we had a great view of that, plus some of the heptathlon events that were going on.
For most of the morning, my eyes were killing me, and there was a freezing cold wind which I couldn’t seem to find respite from from, despite even putting up an umbrella to use as a windbreak, so I couldn’t enjoy myself as fully as I might have. I saw a lot through my camera lens, between drowning my eyes in drops and screwing them up tight. At one point, I wanted to drink the coffee we’d brought in, so I poured some out only to find it tasted really weird. I drank a bit more, then remembered that the woman behind us at Pret had ordered a soy milk cappuccino. We must have got that. No wonder it tasted so disgusting.
We saw lots of events – no finals, just heats, but it’s always fun to shout at people to run faster, and groan with everybody in the crowd when someone knocks the high jump bar down. It was so sad when KJT hit the bar on her final attempt, and we all watched her curl up in a ball on the mat, poor thing. We all felt it.
The weather made things interesting; we had several showers, and as we left, some huge rumbles of thunder. I’d been covered in the giant wheelchair poncho, so didn’t get wet when the rain came. We weren’t herded the way we were after the Anniversary Games, so we got back to Stratford much quicker than we expected. Started talking to a couple on the platform who also had a wheelchair, to find that their son is having a stem cell transplant this week! Tried to share the successes of my life to give them hope. No liver failure chat for first-timers.
We arrived at St. Pancras just after two, so had just over an hour before we needed to be at Euston. I suggested we go to Origin to have an actual nice coffee, so that took up a good half an hour, then we scooted down the rest of the round.
We picked up some reading material for the train, plus some Pom Bears, then off to the assistance office again! We’d barely sat down before we were sent to the platform, despite our train not departing for nearly thirty five minutes. We were told the chap would meet us with the ramp, so we waited out in the freezing wind for him to appear. After ten minutes, there was no one, so I rang to check the situation, and she said he was coming. We waited another ten minutes, and still nothing, so we hauled the chair on to the train, only to find the wheelchair position floor was covered in food and some other crap. I didn’t really feel like covering my wheels in that, so we folded up the chair and I sat next to Mommy. This turned out to be a smart move, because a couple got on the train with an old Westie who sat under the chair in front of me so I had a dog friend for the journey home! Then we picked up some pizzas for dinner and have about an hour in the house before I have to go out again for Regina Spektor tonight. Busy busy busy.
The 6th of August.
So. Tired. So. Much. Pain.
Regina Spektor was beautiful last night. She was, frustratingly, half an hour late on, but was so charming and brilliant, I forgave her. I never thought I’d hear Us live and it was so gorgeous. She is one of few singers who are just as good as their record if not better in person. And I was spotted by Hayley from school so we caught up afterwards which was delightful.
I am very tired now though. I got to bed after midnight, and slept until ten. I’ll still be having an early night tonight I think. Plus my back hurts all over, and my neck, and my bum. Having zero fat on there means sitting on non-padded seats all day leaves me in much, much pain.
This morning, once I was actually up, I wrote about yesterday, which was a long one. I’ll have lots of blog work to do tomorrow – got to get the photos off my camera before I do a post as well.
After lunch, I crocheted. Just crocheted squares for Michaela’s baby blanket and watched the new Orphan Black, which made me do a small cry.
We wear our scarves just like a noose
But not ’cause we want eternal sleep
And though our parts are slightly used
New ones are slave labour you can keep
We’re living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We’re living in a den of thieves
And it’s contagious