Archives For sleep

The 12th of February. 

Really tired, although I really have no excuse to be. I slept all night, whereas Mommy was awake at four. I did have a dream that someone murdered me with an injection to the back of the neck, and that woke me up at about one. I could physically feel where the needle had been. So not a great sleep. 

This morning, I wrote up a blog post, then watched Sunday Brunch in my pyjamas while I finished crocheting all the parts of Carol’s present, ready for assembly this afternoon. 

After a lunch involving the cake Mommy made before I even woke up, I thought I should probably get dressed. Then for the rest of my afternoon, I sat in front of the rugby while I put my crocheted creature together. I feel the same way about rugby as I do about Gardeners’ Question Time – no idea what they’re talking about, but I find it very soothing. 

Mrs. Doubtfire is on this evening, and it’s been so long since I saw it, I had forgotten how tremendously excellent it is.

The 13th of February. 

No dreams about being murdered last night, and Mommy woke up at five instead of four, so that’s progress. 

We have both had very productive days, although in rather different ways. It’s been decided that the dining room needs decorating (to be fair, we’ve lived here my whole life and only had one new carpet) and of course I am not getting involved, but Mommy has removed the paper from two of the walls. 

I have made a large doily. 

That might not sound very impressive, but it took several hours and was pretty complicated so well done me. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it. One of the pattern websites said that a doily is one of the best heirlooms to leave for your children, but seeing as I won’t be having any descendants, that’s kind of a moot point.

So, that’s been my day. Oh, I finally got an appointment with the pain team! End of March, so six more weeks of agony. Then maybe I will get some relief. 

The 27th of January.

Long days and late nights do not suit me. It took me ages to go to sleep because I was so cold, so I’ve been absolutely exhausted today. 

I got up at half past nine, very reluctantly, and stayed in my pyjamas all morning. I didn’t have the energy to engage with This Morning so I let BBC 2 burble in the background while I wrote about yesterday. That took a long time because I was just feeling useless and wretched, and that is why I have not typed it up yet. 

After lunch, we changed the dressing on my arm (small puncture wound, very little to report) and I put on some warm clothes. My arm has not even started to deflate yet and even my big jumpers are getting a bit snug. I had a bit of a lie down but lacking the capability to nap in the day, it doesn’t really help, so I came back downstairs and have just been a big floop. 

I answered some Cats Protection emails and spoke to Shaki, but I can’t even remember what about now. I might take some Zopiclone tonight and try to have a big sleep. Feel like garbage. 

The 28th of January. 

A sleep has helped. Not back to normal yet but getting there. Another early night will be required. 

Having had Zopiclone, I can barely remember what I’ve done today. I know I wrote up my blog post about London and my venoplasty (update: still no improvement, fairly sure it’s actually getting worse), I went upstairs to unpack my new hairdryer, but other than that, I’m not really sure how I managed to while away the day. 

Definitely no watching of any tv that had to be paid attention to, nor any reading of books. I finished The Man in the High Castle on Wednesday, and I’ve got The Invention of Numbers out to read next but I haven’t started it yet. 

I got in touch with the gym to pause membership again and they’ve done it for five months, although I can resume it at any time. Frankly I’ve got no idea when I’ll be fit for any kind of activity; I can barely walk from room to room without getting distressingly breathless.

New body please. 

The 21st & 22nd; Birthday!

January 23, 2017 — 4 Comments

The 21st of January. 

Birthday! Had to get up super early which I didn’t love but it was for a good reason. I had a pain au chocolat for breakfast, then opened some of my presents. I got a box of macarons from Macarons & More from Grandma, a book token and a big journal from the Hudsons, a cheque from Taid, and some Moomin paraphernalia from Mommy and Daddy – a t-shirt, a notepad and pencil, and a wooden Little My that I need to assemble.

Our train to London was at 10:10, so we set off shortly after breakfast, and we were taken to the train by a woman with a very laissez-faire attitude which I did not care for. I also didn’t like being in coach A because it means I can’t really talk to the people I’m travelling with, but there was at least a fun baby who smiled at me when I made faces at her. 

We didn’t have time to wait for the Euston team to turn up, so got the chair off the train and went to get a cab to the South Bank, where we met up with Christine. We then went on a twenty minute trek in the cold to Where the Pancakes Are, but their misleading website said they would have some free tables for walk-ins, but there was nothing, so I told the woman she had ruined my birthday and left feeling very disappointed. 

Very nearby was a Caravan restaurant where they had many tasty dishes available and nice coffee, so then I was greatly cheered. I had a flat white, then smoked salmon and scrambled eggs on toast with a mimosa. Christine gave me my presents which were two Harrods cronuts (salted caramel and Speculoos and the zebra one), then Daddy had a pudding and I had more coffee. 

We got a taxi back to the South Bank because I couldn’t bear to get that cold again, then we had an hour to kill in the Royal Festival Hall before our Moomins exhibition tour. I went to the shop and bought a little stuffed Moomin and a bowl. 

The tour was lots of fun and very informative – it’s narrated by Sandi Toksvig, along with the tour guide, which was a lovely surprise, and there were lots of original illustrations and stuff that I would never have seen otherwise. I also really liked that they didn’t just gloss over the fact that she was gay and are teaching the children going on this tour that it’s okay and not something to be ashamed of. I think we need to be reminding kids that whatever they are is okay at the moment. The only bad bit was that it was not easy in the wheelchair – we actually had to collapse it and I did a lot of crouching in each room. It would be fine in a manual one with big wheels but the spaces are too small and the floor too uneven for anything else. We coped, but other people might not. The tour guide was very helpful and apologetic, and she promised to feed it back. 

Our next stop was Konditor & Cook to pick up my birthday cake, then we headed to the BFI for hot beverages and a rest before we had to go back to Euston. I had a hot chocolate, and did a lot of coughing which worried me but I think it was just because of the temperature change between there and outside. 

We saw many people who’d been to the Women’s March, which I would have loved to have gone to, but if I had, I would have definitely got ill. It was so cold today, I couldn’t have coped, even in a mass of people. Wonderful, but not sensible for me. 

When it was time, we said goodbye to Christine, then back to Euston. I got some Pom Bears and New Scientist, and when we got home, it was time for cake!

The 22nd of January. 

So tired today. I had a really bad night, not getting to sleep until past one, which is way too late for me. I got up at half past nine, put on some very warm clothes and settled in to spend my morning writing about yesterday. 

This afternoon, I was about to start writing the post I would have done yesterday, but then Alison came over with my birthday presents (more wool and flowers) and there was some catching up to do. Becky is full of lurgy so can’t come round herself, so we got all her news by proxy. It sounds like the cold Grandma’s got and I do not want either of their germs. 

We put the flowers she brought me in a vase, and I was able to finish my writing, which didn’t take long. Tomorrow won’t be so quick as there was a lot to say about my birthday. Then I got to work on otter number 2. I’ve made everything except his ears and snout, so I’ll get him finished this evening. When I’m done, it’ll be an early night. I need a big sleep. 

The 18th of November.

Today has not gone at all how I expected. Up at half past five, at the Women’s by half seven. Mommy came up to the ward with me (mainly because I couldn’t carry my overnight bag on the chair), then left me with a couple on my right and one in the far corner. The nurse (whose name I can’t remember) came to clerk me in, and was amazed by my history (as are most people). She was grateful for my drugs list, gave me a red wristband (allergies), then the healthcare assistant, Mercy, came to do my obs and bring me my anti-DVT stockings. While getting changed, I took a sneaky sip of water to help my dry mouth, then I sat and listened to the corner couple having a hushed, Jeremy Kyle-style domestic. She was really stressed about whatever she was having done, and he was telling her to “Just deal with it like everybody else in here.”, which was not very helpful. They both wanted each other to fuck off, but she also wanted him to be able to stay because she’d freak out if left alone. I gleaned that she wants a hysterectomy but nobody will do that because she’s only 23. Poor girl.

Miss Byrom and Gerwyn the anaesthetist came to see us all individually. She just ran through with me again what she was going to do – remove/separate the adhesions, attempt to do a smear, and take biopsies if deemed necessary. Gerwyn was very nice (as are all the anaesthetists I’ve met) and he was glad to have my latest lung function results. He mentioned that he wouldn’t be intubating me (for a short sleep I’d bloody well hope not), just putting down a smaller breathing tube. That was fine.

I was second on the list, so while I waited to be taken down, I decided to use the time productively and do a blog post. While I was writing, the girl in the corner came to the conclusion that she didn’t want to stay, but before she came back, the porter came and he and Mercy took me down to theatre.

I moved over to the theatre gurney, and was wheeled into the anaesthetic room. I met some new people, confirmed my identity and what I was having done, then Gerwyn had to find somewhere to cannulate me. The first vein didn’t want to co-operate, then the one on the other hand was only too happy to squirt blood everywhere. Still, it was in, then he gave me some morphine to relax me, put the mask over my face emitting gas that smelled of vanilla, and off to sleep I went.

I awoke maybe 45 minutes later, conscious that some time had passed but not long. No dreams. I was acutely aware that things were inside me and that I needed the toilet. I was told that in theatre they had put a catheter and a pack in, which would be pressing on my rectum which was why I felt like I needed to poo. The nurse in recovery was pleased with how awake I was and that I was drinking and talking, so she called the ward and the other nurse looking after me (Rachel) came down. I asked her if the lady in the corner had stayed and it turned out she had. Change of heart. The boyfriend had had to leave though because them’s the rules. She checked the inco-pad underneath me and we found that the catheter had come undone, so she screwed it back together and changed the pad so I had a clean bed.

Back on the ward, they said I would have to stay for at least six hours, until half past four, when they could take the pack out, then the catheter, and I’d have to pee without it. This was not great news but fine, I could deal with it, I just had to adjust my position regularly. It was really, very uncomfortable, and the need to poo did not abate at all. I was brought some tea and toast which at least made my tummy stop rumbling. I texted Mommy and Christine to let them know how I was, and finished off the blog post. Visiting started at 2, so I asked Mommy if she’s come then with some coffee and lunch. To pass the time, I worked on my Christmas scarf and tried to ignore my discomfort.

When she arrived, I explained in more detail what had happened this morning and told her about the whispered argument in the corner (which seemed to have been forgotten when he returned). I drank my peppermint mocha and ate my panini, all the while wriggling around. I tweeted and crocheted, and we kept hearing the nurse ring a particular doctor about him coming to see the lady in the other corner, then she could leave. She waited for him for four hours, and in the end, he didn’t even show up, just gave some instructions on what she needed to do. I would have been fuming.

By ten past four, I was counting down the minutes until we could take the pack out. I was the only one left in the bay by this point, so I could be plenty vocal about my need to have to removed. Thankfully, at half four on the dot, Rachel was all ready to do it. The curtains got pulled round, I pulled the sheet down and spread my legs. She put a sick bowl down for the pack to go in, and started pulling out the gauze. I have never, ever experienced anything like it. There was so much pain as it ripped away from the skin inside my vagina, and seemed to go on forever, like when a magician pulls a string of flags from his sleeve. In a way it did seem like magic because I have no idea how they fit so much in there. At one point, we got to a knot where it emerged that there were two packs tied together and we were only halfway through! I was in absolute agony but I told her to keep going because I just needed it to be over. When she’d finished, the blood-soaked gauze filled the sick bowl and I didn’t even feel any of the relief that I’d expected, just sheer trauma. Thank fuck I never have to give birth because that was one of the worst things I have ever been through.

I was still bleeding a lot, so we didn’t take out the catheter in case they had to put another pack in. I really did not want this to happen and I willed my body to stop. Thankfully, it did slow down, and by the time Miss Byrom came round, it was at a much more acceptable rate. She had prescribed some topical estrogen cream and explained how to use it, and gave me a slightly more graphic description of what had happened in theatre. Basically, there was only a tiny amount of vagina that was open, maybe a centimetre, and she really just had to stick her finger through and rip me apart. Brutal, but the only way. Also, they couldn’t see any hint of my cervix or the coil, but they’re definitely in there. Just don’t know how we’ll get them out when it comes to that. Still, she was happy with how I was, so the catheter and cannulas could be removed. Then I would just have to wee and I’d be able to go home! I didn’t expect this to be a problem as I’d been drinking all afternoon, but my bladder was not keen on letting any of it go.

I managed one rather small wee, which was not adequate, then I just had to drink more. I drank glass after glass, watching the clock because I really wanted to get to The Glee to see Tom and Suzi for 8. About 10 past 7, my stomach was as tight as drum with the amount of water filling it up, and I went to see if there was anything to be done that might help. I couldn’t have any diuretics, but Rachel was happy that I had at least done a wee and was confident that I was sensible enough to know what to do if anything seemed wrong.

I went for one more pitiful try, then Mommy and I took the paperwork and cream, and off to The Glee we went! I decided that I would text Suzi and ask her if she could get a member of staff to let me in the back door so I could go up in the lift and not have to climb the stairs, which she very obligingly did.

This meant I was the first one in, and for a little while, I sat alone in the studio while an excellent playlist of musical theatre tunes played. I couldn’t do the kicks on stage that I might have, but I did take a selfie because I’m cool. Then the room started to fill up, and Tom and Suzi appeared! The format was essentially intro, Suzi’s show, interval, Tom’s show. They were both equally hilarious and thought-provoking and delightful in different ways, and I enjoyed myself immensely. I popped into the dressing room at the interval to say hello and have hugs and chats, and I got to wang on about my very strange day.

Time flew by, and suddenly it was time for part two, so we had group hug and a photo before Tom’s half. I think his show was longer than Suzi’s, and by the time it was curtain down, it was nearly eleven o’clock and I was very ready to go to bed. So tired. But I was really happy I got to finish my day laughing so much with my lovely pals.

The 19th of November.

Well I don’t feel great. Having got in late, I thought I’d sleep really well, but all that water caught up with me and I woke up four times to pee. Did not want to wake up at half nine when my alarm went off but I thought I should.

I stayed in my pyjamas all morning, feeling rather delicate and taking things slowly. Mommy and I caught up on I’m A Celebrity, and I finished crocheting the tiny Christmas tree for inside a bauble. Lunchtime came round quickly, and it felt like a beans on toast kind of day. Warm, cosy food.

This afternoon, I had a go with the topical estrogen. It didn’t work quite the way I thought it would with the dilator, so tomorrow I’ll try the applicator that was provided. It certainly went in a lot further than it used to, so the surgery definitely did its job. I was glad I decided to it on a towel as I am still bleeding and had I not, I would have ruined a duvet cover. Admittedly only a rather unexciting one from Tesco, but still.

I then spent a good couple of hours writing four and half pages about yesterday. I really hope you enjoy all the detail. When I’d finished, I finally read this morning’s paper, and made the penultimate bauble. Just one left to go, for the tree to go in. It might have to be a special one because a) I have run out of outer bauble wool and b) the tree seems too big to fit in the same size as the rest.

I think it might be somewhat longer than I thought until I am back at the gym.

The 14th of November. 

The kittens do not seem too traumatised by their ordeal over the weekend. Last night we had all three of them sleeping on our laps in various combinations, bless them. 

I wrote up a blog post this morning and gave the kittens lots of attention. They’ve just been very sleepy for most of the day, which means they’ll probably be really hyper tonight.

Normally I would have gone to the gym on a Monday afternoon, but Mommy has been back and forth to Grandma’s because she’s not well, and my back is still not up to exercise. Hopefully tomorrow. I have finished my first crocheted bauble, and the holly leaves inside were a bit big, so I’ll have to use a smaller hook for the rest. 

I also finally finished The Bone Clocks. I don’t know how satisfied I was with the ending. It wasn’t ambiguous or anything (I really hate that) but it just wasn’t the outcome I would have liked. Ideally, all books should end tied up like neat little packages. 

I would like a decent sleep tonight. I am so looking forward to my general anaesthetic on Friday. 

The 15th of November. 

Ugh well today has not been good. I slept badly again for no good reason, so we did not start off well. To pass the time before getting up, I watched Frankie Boyle’s American Autopsy, and although it didn’t make the Trumpocalypse okay, it was bearable for forty minutes. And the all-female panel was a delight

This morning was acceptable – I finally put the beads/baubles on Xaver the Christmas tree and tried several things to emphasise the edge of Anton the angel’s shorts, but eventually settled on just crocheting round because nothing else was really visible. 

My back felt better so I went to the gym, but it didn’t last. I did maybe two thirds of my usual workout, I’d got to the floor, but it was suddenly just way too painful, and I had to give up. I think I might not be going back until next week, let it completely recover. 

I also made an upsetting discovery – I was checking the times for Tom and Suzi’s gig tomorrow and I discovered that it’s not tomorrow. It’s Friday. The day on which I am having vagina surgery. If it all goes well and I am done fairly early then it might be absolutely fine, so I just have to hope that it is. I will be so gutted if I cannot go because of my stupid body. 

The 24th of August. 

No poo-watch today. Instead, it’s Bake Off day! I am ridiculously excited. Love Bake Off so much. What insane things does Mary Berry have in store for us this year? I already have my favourites: Andrew, Rav, Selasi and Benjamina. Watch them. 

Not so much crocheting today either. This morning I had a phone call with Ben from Anthony Nolan about the event I’m going to at the BMA in September; he wants me to speak a little bit so we were mainly just talking about what I might say and what is going to happen. Mainly networking. 

After lunch and the new episode of Pretty Little Liars, I had a trip to the dentist and hygienist. Liam (the dentist) and I had a lovely chat about flossing, then the hygienist poked all my gums and gave me a score of zero which is the best! Still can’t cope very well with the abrasive floss/polishing strips though. Bleah. 

Since getting home, I have only had time to crochet the neckline of my jumper and a sleeve. Just the other sleeve to go and it’ll be finished! Having tried it on a couple of times, it’s definitely going to keep me warm. 

The 25th of August. 

I woke up from the most horrific dream in which I had squished an enormous spider (its body was the size of a two pound coin) with my hands and it screamed, and when I awoke I was in the position I’d been in in the dream and I really didn’t want to move. 

This morning I was at the chiro. I told Trine about the MRI and asked if she might be able to pull a string or two with Mr. Harland, then she crunched my upper back and my neck a lot. When I came out, the most ghastly duet was playing on Radio 2. I got dressed so fast. I have never heard it before and I never want to hear it again. 

After lunch, I crocheted the other sleeve of the jumper, and now it is finished! It doesn’t look great in a photo because it’s oversized and slouchy. When it’s cold enough, I’ll wear it and it’ll look better. 

Not long after I’d finished, Nadia’s adopters came round to take her home. They’re back from holiday so couldn’t wait to have her. We got all the paperwork done pretty quickly, then it just took us about forty five minutes to get her into the carrier. In the end, there was some tricking and we had to grab her a little bit. The other two were only too happy to get inside but she was not getting involved. I was so of of breath. Still, we got her there in the end and it was a very short trip to her new home. I am sure she’ll be fine. The other two don’t appear to have noticed. 

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.