Archives For sleep

The 8th of October. 

I have had a really unproductive day. I think it’s allowed, considering how shit I feel. 

Another bad night, etc etc. I just cough and cough my body is so exhausted that sleep overrides the virus. Then the cough seems to stay dormant until morning, then it all starts again. 

I had one of my rainbow bagels for breakfast to cheer myself up, then while watching Sunday Brunch, I put up a blog post. Mercifully, they’re all quite short at the moment. Then I had to go and say goodbye to the kittens end get their paperwork so I could fill it in before Amanda came to pick them up at one. We had lots of pets and nose boops, and when they were distracted by food, I got the forms I needed from the drawer. 

Everything was ready when she arrived, so I just had her finish them off, then we had to wrestle the little monkeys into her carrier. Gave them both a quick squeeze, then shut the door before they could escape. 

Ate lunch while fast-forwarding through last night’s X Factor, then I’ve spent the majority of the afternoon on the floor. Completely flat on my front, that is the only way I get a break from coughing. Otherwise it is incessant.

The 9th of October. 

Honestly, most of my day has been spent lying flat on the floor. 

I didn’t have a great night (again), so as soon as I’d had my breakfast and my compression garment was on, my face was on the carpet. Well, not technically on the carpet, because that is unpleasant – I have been using a blanket as a barrier. 

It suppresses the cough, but causes pain in my back, neck, knees, ribcage and elbows. I’ve also developed an interesting condition in that when I blow my nose, it squeaks, almost as if I have inhaled some kind of device from a toy or something. Mommy keeps laughing at me. The pain is worth it though, not to cough. I emailed Dr. Thompson, just to keep him abreast of the situation, and he’s writing me a prescription for co-amoxiclav which I can pick up on Wednesday. 

Keep thinking about going to pet kittens then remembering we don’t have any! I haven’t heard anything, which I’m taking to mean everything’s fine. 

Right, back to the floor. 

The 6th of October. 

Last night was bad again. Don’t think I fell asleep at all until past two, and even then it was punctuated by coughs. Blog posts take so much longer when I’m coughing. Keep having to stop and hunch over to move some phlegm. Spent most of the day without my cardigan on because I’ve been so warm. 

My chest has rumbled all afternoon. Rumble, cough, rumble, cough. I can barely write because I have to keep stopping. This morning I was quieter and I thought things might be starting to slightly improve but that seems incorrect. 

Daddy is concerned that I’ve got something fungal, so if there’s time on Wednesday he’d like me to get my bloods done (I don’t know how this is supposed to fit in with my lymphoscintigram). Personally I think it’s still just a virus but getting them checked will make him feel better. 

What would make me feel better would be for the coughing to improve. Or at least decrease in frequency. I’m so exhausted. 

The 7th of October. 

Sleep not terrible but not good. I’m so tired. And my back hurts so much. When I get up to walk, I am bent over at a thirty degree angle. Straightening up is too painful. 

Most of my day has been spent leaning forward, working on something I’m crocheting for Heidi. It is going to be rather larger than I had originally anticipated. I hope she doesn’t mind. 

I’m not sure there’s anything else to say. I feel like trash. It’s been two weeks now. Can I start getting better soon please? It’s been so long since I had a normal virus, I’ve forgotten how long they last. Some improvement next week would be nice. I really hope it can’t get worse. 

The 29th of August. 

Another bad night! I really don’t know what’s happening, if it’s my body or my mind that is the problem. I just want it to stop. 

This morning, I did a blog post, and had started watching The Mist yesterday, so I put that back on. I got a couple of episodes watched (Mommy had taken Grandma for an appointment with her consultant) and painted my nails, which was fun when I dropped my phone down the side of the chair. I was able to retrieve it without getting nail varnish everywhere, thankfully. 

Mommy got back around lunchtime, so we ate some food, then I went to let the kittens run around while I watched the final few episodes of The Mist. I think I am getting somewhere with Henrietta – I keep giving her treat sticks and the occasional Dreamie and I am getting hissed at less. The Mist has a very unsatisfactory ending – no questions answered, harmful stereotypes reinforced, cliffhanger finale. Do I want another season? Just answers would be preferable, I think. Bah. 

New Bake Off tonight. I have a lot of conflicting feelings. 

The 30th of August. 

Jesus, my eyes have been really sore for the past two days. No reason, and not much I can really do to alleviate the pain. More eye drops don’t really help. Blargh. I at least had a marginally better sleep, but the dreams weren’t great. 

I’ve done too much crocheting again, so my fingers are tired. The doily is so big, it now takes over an hour to do a round and it only grows. Really hoping I manage to get to the end without running out of wool. 

This afternoon, we watched the Horizon programme about psychopaths, then I finished off a round of crochet before going upstairs to listen to some podcasts and give my eyes a rest. Back downstairs, I let the kittens out and watched an episode of Sense8. Henrietta is coming a bit closer to me now, although we thought we might have a setback last night after she got her claws stuck in a blanket and completely freaked out. We couldn’t help her without getting injured, so I had to get an oven glove so we could remove her paw from its trap. She was not happy. Thankfully, today she does not seem too traumatised. Hugo is still ridiculous, climbing up my leg, but if I look at him, he legs it. More bribery required. 

The 25th of August. 

Ugh I had a horrible night. First, I had a dream that the muscles in my thighs had atrophied, and I was trying to walk around a supermarket with a trolley, but I couldn’t lift my legs. Then, I had another dream that I ate some sort of bud that would kill me, then I was crawling around repeating “Mommy, I ate a flower” when Gollum from Lord of the Rings started coming toward me, scrambling in a bridge position, and I woke myself up trying to kick it away. I had to listen to a lot of podcast to stop myself falling back into the same dream. 

I was glad to see daylight. Hopefully tonight will be better. This morning, I did a blog post, and went to see the kitties. I let Harvey out briefly, but then Hugo wanted to come out too and I can’t have them both running around while on my own. They can do that this evening when there are two of us there. 

I have been crocheting all afternoon – another doily. Going to be a big one. I decided I would start watching Doctor Foster on Netflix, as I want to see the second series and I only saw bits of the first, so I saw the first two episodes of that. I’m enjoying it – I cannot wait for the dinner party. 

The 26th of August. 

What a fucking garbage night. Again. It felt like I barely slept at all, although I must have done. I think I will go to bed early tonight, but that rarely works. I must have looked exhausted, because the chap at the cinema gave me a large coffee without me asking for it. 

This morning, once I had got myself feeling vaguely half-human, I said hi to the cats and then sat down with the crochet. I managed a couple of rounds, occasionally looking up at Saturday Kitchen, then stopped so I could concentrate on Only Connect. Can’t do missing vowels if I’m not paying attention. 

After lunch, Daddy and I went to see Logan Lucky. It’s a huge amount of fun – I was thrilled from the moment Parks and Rec’s Jerry appeared as Channing Tatum’s boss. I was in. Daniel Craig is having a lovely time being a bomb-making prisoner, and Hillary Swank turns up for a jolly. If you want a good, ridiculous heist movie, it’s for you. 

The 23rd of August. 

Another disastrous night. I seem to be incompatible with sleep right now – it might be time for Zopiclone again. 

Not a great deal to report today. This morning, I had a bit of kitten fun time before writing up a blog post. That took considerably less time than Monday, because I used a different app to upload the photos. Mommy and I had chiro appointments, so went out at half past twelve to be stretched and crunched. There was a lot of tightness in my lower back, probably from my long days in the wheelchair in the time between visits. I can’t wait to see the pain man again. Steroid injections please. 

Came home, had lunch, checked on kittens. Mommy went to Grandma’s, and I spent a couple of hours writing, then watched the season 3 finale of Buffy, realising the similarities between the Mayor and Trump. It would not surprise me if he wanted to become a demon. 

The 24th of August. 

I had Zopiclone and it was good. I slept until half past nine, and this morning I did some kitten petting – Henrietta didn’t hiss at me, and she even gave Mommy a friendly headbutt! Definite progress. Denise is coming round this evening to meet them and pick up paperwork, and Penny is coming home this weekend so she’s coming to meet them too. 

This afternoon, I had a hairwash, which will hopefully stop the green rubbing off on my pillowcase, as I discovered was happening last night. I had a quick look at my copy of James Acaster’s Classic Scrapes which arrived from Amazon, and I am very much looking forward to seeing him again in the autumn. Since then, I have been finishing off the doily, which now needs starching or something, to look how it’s supposed to. 

Sorry for the lack of words. Life is pretty banausic right now. 

The 13th of August. 

I love Zopiclone. I had some last night and for once it actually worked; it wasn’t hours before I fell asleep, and I stayed asleep all night long. Curiously, I remember one of my dreams, which I don’t normally when I have drugs – we smeared Grandma’s head in jelly to make her warm. 

So I slept in, which was delightful, and after breakfast, I wrote up a blog post. And now we know we saw the last race Usain Bolt won. Even if it was a heat. And Mommy is extra glad she’s got tickets to see Mo next weekend at the Alexander Stadium. 

This afternoon, I needed to get away from the horrors of life (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’re not paying enough attention), so I went upstairs, and I listened to James Acaster being interviewed by Richard Herring at Edinburgh which made me laugh so much, I can’t wait to see him again this autumn. Then I went to watch the final episode of Orphan Black with Betty, which made me do a small cry, but it was for happy reasons, not sad. 

I have felt much less terrible today. Less tired, less pain, less burping. All round improvement. 

The 14th of August. 

Normal sleep service has resumed, it seems. No drugs last night. Suddenly realised this morning that Becky and James’ wedding anniversary is tomorrow and we hadn’t got them cards. So, after Mommy had been to do the food shop that didn’t happen at the weekend, we went into Sutton to get some. While there, I bought some lip balms because mine is about to run out, and some nail varnish remover, then we got cards. 

Back home, we had lunch, then Becky and Jamie appeared with gifts to say thank you for feeding their cats while they’ve been away. Jamie should have been on his way back to Strasbourg, but he missed all his trains. He should be on his plane now, if everything this afternoon went to plan. We can but hope. 

Since then I have been crocheting a tiny teddy with the remaining pretty baby wool. I’ve actually finally had a good idea for what to give Pete and Sophie for their twins, and after talking to her this morning, I have a very up to date idea for when they’re likely to be born, so I don’t need to rush. 

The 11th of August. 

I have felt like total shit all day. It took me hours to go to sleep again, although at least I had no headache this time. 

This morning, I did a blog post, and I tidied up the blanket. Generally though, I have been curled up, trying to decide what to make for Pete and Sophie’s twins, and trying to ignore the fact that I am cold, tired and still full of wind. Indelicate I know, but it’s so frustrating how you can start burping after breakfast, eat multiple Rennies, yet still be massively uncomfortable come the evening.

I am considering taking Zopiclone tonight – maybe just one tablet, because I have to get up at stupid time tomorrow and I need to be properly conscious. I really hope I don’t feel quite so terrible in the morning, because I would like to enjoy the trip. 

The 12th of August. 

Phew. Pooped. Been up since five but it has been worth it. I have been a bit burpy and in some pain but I’m okay. 

So yes. The same way as last week, we bought breakfast and coffee at the station, and our journey down was largely uneventful, save for us having to move the man who was in our seats. Obviously the Euston people were nowhere to be seen when we arrived, so we got off on our own and sped down the road to St. Pancras. We almost missed our javelin train, but I got a seat, then a lot of evil looks from older women who had to stand. 

No messing about with the lifts in Westfield today; we went up in the car park and found Christine in the same place as a week ago. We made our way to our seats, but upon arrival, found the space full of fridges, so we had been reallocated. However, that was absolutely fine because we moved to seats halfway down the home straight which were way better!

First up we had the 110m hurdles in the decathlon, and in every single race at least one person fell over. Then we had some important races – the 4×100 and 4x400m relays, men and women. Our team got through to the finals of all, and we did lots of shouting and clapping, but what was most exciting was seeing Usain Bolt come out to do the heat, because he wasn’t expected to. Mommy absolutely lost her shit – I have never seen her more thrilled. It’s so funny, listening to the cheers follow the runners round the track. Less funny is when they tried to make us all sing Hey Jude, because nobody knew the words. Argh. 

We left after the 4×400, once we knew our guys were through as fastest losers. Since we’d had so much time spare last week, we went to Westfield for a leisurely lunch, and had pizza at Francis Manca. I would recommend, because their crust is soft, doughy and delicious. 

Needed some green juice and caffeine so went to Pret, then bade farewell to Christine and began the trek back across London. Euston team actually got us on the train in a timely fashion, and I listened to the new Kesha album all the way home.