Archives For zopiclone

The 28th of February. 

Happy Secret Surprise Day! Looking back, I actually booked this in August, so well done me for having the foresight to check so far in advance. 

No entertainment on the trains this morning, just the policeman I saw surreptitiously tucking a spoon into his jacket. Was he expecting some kind of cereal emergency later on? I will never know. 

The Euston chap arrived promptly with the ramp, so Christine wasn’t waiting to meet us for long. We all got in the lift, and went down to the taxi rank, where I asked the taxi driver to take us to The Ritz! Surprise!

The doorman had to get a minion to let us in (ramp issues), so we got to go in the back way, seeing the private cars parked there (including an orange/gold Bentley 4×4 with the numberplate “I GLO” which was hideous) and the “private quarters” on the way to the afternoon tea area. Our coats were taken, and then I rather awkwardly had to take the arm of the maître’d as he took us to our table, because I am obviously infirm. 

We sat in the corner, so I oversaw the rest of the diners, and Mommy and Christine watched the people who were having some sort of reception behind me – honours were being given out at the palace today and we think Kirsty Young may have received one. Unfortunately, to confirm, I would have had to turn around (and quite blatantly stare) so we were forced to speculate. 

We ordered our teas (I was intrigued by a chocolate mint one, but settled on Assam Tippy Orthodox, so it wouldn’t fight any food flavours). 

The tea stand arrived, full of sandwiches and cakes. It’s a funny procedure – you eat your sandwiches (ham with grain mustard mayonnaise on sliced brioche, cheddar cheese with chutney on tomato bread, cucumber with cream cheese, dill and chives on granary bread, chicken breast with parsley cream on malt bread, scottish smoked salmon with lemon butter on sourdough bread and egg mayonnaise with chopped shallots on white bread), then when they are gone, they bring you more, plus the (still warm) scones with jam and cream. Scones are the best part – when they break apart without the need of a knife, they are perfect. I hate jam, but I like a very thin layer of cream, so it’s like butter. 

The cakes were a tad disappointing, but that was only in my opinion, because they all contained cream and/or some kind of fruity crap, which I do not like. Thankfully, my experience was saved by the cake trolley which came round, and I had a slice of chocolate and hazelnut loaf i.e. Nutella cake. 

By the end of this, we were all suitably stuffed, and we had to vacate the table by 3.15, so we retrieved our coats from the cloakroom and get one of the many waiting cabs to the V&A. 

We arrived a little early for our allocated slot in the Undressed exhibition, so we wandered around the free area, looking at the tombs of knights and stained glass until it was time to go to the fashion gallery. The exhibition was all about the history of underwear, so started from the earliest forms of corsets, up until the present day, which included the waist trainer. Funny how things come full circle like that. There were also historical pyjamas, dressing gowns, underwear as outerwear – Kate Moss’ infamous see-through dress was there, and one of Dita von Teese’s corsets. There was a beautiful gold crocheted dress; something I would love to be able to make. 

When we were finished with the exhibition, we had a chat about what to do next, and it seemed that the most sensible thing would be to stay at the museum until it closed, looking around the rest of the free exhibitS, when we would get a cab back to Euston. 

So for an hour we bimbled about, looking at Raphael’s cartoons (not that kind of cartoon) and learning about Lockwood Kipling, father of Rudyard, but a man of whom I had never heard. 

When we left the museum, Christine went to get the tube home, and Mommy and I climbed into another waiting taxi. Very lucky with them today. Then it took us a good half an hour to get back to Euston, where we purchased magazines and beverages, then took up our usual spot in the assistance office until it was time for our train. 

No waiting in the cold on the platform today, and no delays getting back, so this time we were home by half past nine and I am happy to have given Mommy a nice birthday treat. 

The 1st of March.

Argh. Had Zopiclone last night but it did no good, just feel crap today without having had any extra sleep. Breathing has been dreadful. 

Mommy and I were both at the chiro this morning, with her going first. When it came to my turn, I got her to work on the thing that happens across my back when I lie on my right side (which I have to do to sleep), and she stretched out the abdominal muscle that has been spasming multiple times every day. We shall see tonight if it’s had any effect. 

This afternoon, I’ve been writing about yesterday, trying to talk to Imelda/anybody that can tell me what’s happening with my arm, and agonising about the Old Hallfieldian Society meeting tonight. My breathing has been so awful that I really didn’t feel like I could face it, but I didn’t want to be the reason behind another cancelled meeting because there wasn’t a quorum. 

I decided I would go, and if they needed me, I would stay. Then, when Celia answered the door, she said just to stay for half an hour while Mommy read the paper. So I stayed for most of the agenda, not contributing much but that didn’t matter.

Now, back home, and I’m going to have pancakes.  

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 1st of October. 

Even more pain tonight, but for a good reason – London trip for Christine’s birthday! Had to be awake ridiculously early so we could be at New Street for 8:40. I bought a Guardian and a Pumpkin Spice latte for the train because I am so very basic, and we sped down the country to Euston. 

Christine met us there, and we got a cab to Berner’s Tavern. Had it not been pissing it down, we would have walked/wheeled. Not today. The restaurant is within The London Edition Hotel and it is niiiiice. Very fancy. We were early for our reservation, so sat in the lobby, had coffee and gave Christine her presents. Just token things because we’re giving her a voucher for a fancy cooking lesson of her choosing, so I gave her a crocheted mini manatee and whale. She is going to add them to her crochet corner at work. 

We moved through to our table, and I already knew what I was having, so while everybody else perused the menu, I just looked at all the pictures on the walls and watched the other people coming in. I was the only one who went for a sweet brunch dish – buttermilk pancakes with Nutella and bananas (no hazelnuts, I had those omitted). They were so good, but I couldn’t quite finish them. Curse my tiny stomach. I had a curly kale, apple, cucumber and lime juice to go with it, so I had some of my five a day. Plus the banana of course. Then everybody else wanted pudding, which I most definitely did not, so I had a flat white while they ate their desserts. I’m fairly certain Liam Gallagher came in while we were there – I tried to take a stealthy photo but it didn’t work out very well. 

By the time we left, the rain had stopped, so we decided not to get a cab to the theatre, where we were seeing Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart in No Man’s Land. On the way, we happened to pass a Crosstown Doughnuts, so I went in to buy a cinnamon scroll to eat later, and while in the queue, I petted a dog called Cherub who was a chihuahua/Japanese Chin cross and I was happy as a clam. 

We arrived at the Wyndham’s just after two, so we stashed the wheelchair and found our seats. We had an excellent view, but it is an old theatre, and the seats were not good for my back. For the most part, I managed to forget about the pain, because the play was so good. I have not seen any Pinter before, so being introduced to his work by two of the world’s greatest living actors was pretty cool. Obviously it was an incredible performance from all the four actors involved (there are two younger men as well), sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes funny (and some lines taking on new meaning in current context) and overall amazing. Standing ovation at the end, and I found myself welling up for no reason that I could think of. Maybe because I just felt so lucky to be there. 

From there, we went to Picturehouse for a drink and a nibble before returning to Euston. I just had a St. Clements because I still didn’t want any food, but I did get a Mini Egg cookie to take home and eat tomorrow. We talked about the play, found that Daddy had nodded off a couple of times but not missed too much, tried to work out why the man sitting in front of us had left in the interval, and before we knew it, it was time to get a taxi back to the station. Hailing one wasn’t yielding results, so I whipped out my phone, and within five minutes we were on our way home. 

We were sat in the quiet coach on the train, but I put my earphones in anyway, and listened to a Flatshare Slamdown podcast while wishing the journey faster so I could lie down. 

So much fun, but so much pain. 

The 2nd of October.  

I don’t feel quite as awful as I thought I would, but still not great. I think I was helped by the Zopiclone I took last night, and I made no effort to get out of bed before I wanted to. I was up by ten though, I’m not an animal. 

I threw on my huge green polo neck for the first time this year, and spent what was left of the morning curled up in the armchair, writing about yesterday. Long post ahoy. I did get it finished by the end of Sunday Brunch, and to take my mind off my stiffness, I had scrambled eggs on one of my rainbow bagels for lunch, then my Mini Egg cookie. It definitely helped. 

This afternoon, Mommy took Grandma to get her hearing aids adjusted, and while I waited for her to return (so we could watch last night’s Strictly), I have just sat and crocheted. It is not super interesting to write about but I’ve made a good amount of progress and I don’t think it’ll take much longer to finish. I do look forward to being able to reveal it after Christmas. 

Going to lie down on the floor again now. I am going to be doing lots of stretching until I see the pain team.

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.

The 23rd of June. 

Ohhh, this cough can just fuck off now. I am sick to death of it. At least today has been very low on referendum chat on the news, so I haven’t had to hear that drivel too. 

Most of my day I’ve been crocheting, awaiting this evening’s kitten delivery. They’re here now, all fine, and they are not easy to tell apart. There’s Nadia and Noelle, the two tabbies, and one has grey ears and a black nose whereas the other has brown ears and a pink nose. One tortoiseshell, Nova, she’s easy. Then the two black ones, Nettie and Nola, and that only obvious difference between them is that one is much smaller than the other. 

They were very feral when they were found, and used to be very hissy and spitty, but no one has got upset with me yet, even though I am very loud and coughy. They appear to just be exhausted. 

Tonight I think I will take multiple Zopiclones – the result of the referendum will probably have me too anxious to sleep. The general election was bad enough, and if we leave the EU, I think life might become totally unbearable. 

The 24th of June. 

I am shocked, frightened and devastated. I can’t see how this will end well. We have lost so much. European funding into medical research. Gone. Investment into places like Hull and Cornwall. Gone. David Cameron will go in October, meaning another, worse Tory will be inflicted upon us unless they want a general election which is unlikely. 

A generation given everything for free have destroyed the future of mine. No more free movement, no ability to work and study in 27 other countries. This will only increase the attacks on our public institutions and services when the money the Leave campaign claimed we’d get back is actually not there. People saying “We’re Great Britain, we’ll sort it out like we always do, this is our England” and that means nothing. You can’t just say it’s all going to be fine because this isn’t a fucking film and it could easily all come crashing down. 

I just want to weep continuously. I’m appalled, and there is no silver lining here. 

The 19th of March. 

It’s been a very long day. Left New Street at ten to eight, got back twelve hours and twenty minutes later. Awake at twenty past five. Zopiclone required for sleep; my brain is so whizzy. 

My train journey down was uneventful, just was left waiting for the assistance man at Euston to meet me when the train arrived. He was nowhere to be seen, so some very kind people asked the train manager for help and he got the ramp for me. 

Cab to Anthony Nolan was easy. He knew where I wanted to go, so left me at some large gates where I was pressing buttons in the hopes of being let in. I was about to call someone, when Billie from AN saw me and buzzed the gates open so I could come inside. I was the first one there, and Billie, Liz and I were joined by Craig (AN fundraising) and the other Young Ambassadors – Will, Amanda, Emma and Megan. 

There was a welcome and generic ice-breaking stuff, and the morning was spent learning about the different areas of AN – first the history, how donating works, and what each department does (fundraising, volunteering, public relations ie talking to MP’s, and media/press). Obviously all of this was interrupted by us all asking questions and adding our own stories. 

There were M&S sandwiches for lunch so we shared those out, and a photographer had arrived so we all took turns having our portraits done (she was very sweet, telling me how photogenic I am and how great I look on camera 💁🏼), then we had a group photo outside where we snuggled together like penguins in a huddle. 

The afternoon session began with a session on register development (how we get more donors), then we talked about how to take care of ourselves when in our role, to make sure we don’t have a breakdown, essentially. Then the most fun part, presentation skills! Things to be aware of when we talk. We had to prepare a 2-3 minute talk about a moment in which we were proud of ourselves. I talked about GCSE results and it was excruciating because I hate being put on the spot. We all had issues. 

And we were done! Finished an hour early so I got a taxi to St. Pancras where I had some tasty dinner before returning to Euston for my busy train. I hid behind my book. Just 100 pages left!

The 20th of March. 

Zopiclone means I am sleepy. I set my alarm for 9.45 but I snoozed until ten past ten. Thankfully Sunday Brunch started late so I didn’t miss any of it. The house was quiet because Mommy was out at the NEC and Daddy was down the garden, so I pottered about, said hi to Monica, made sure she had enough food and water, then got the same for myself. 

Most of my morning was spent writing. Writing about yesterday, which took a while, then writing the blog post that I would’ve done yesterday. So yeah, lots of writing. 

Once finished, I had my lunch, and Mommy had brought me a bonus brownie from the craft show (?) so I had my second one in two days. Oh well. 

My afternoon was dedicated to finishing The Steel Kiss. Even on high alert, I didn’t expect the twists. I was right about one aspect I thought seemed dodgy but that was the only thing. Also, I plan to question Jeffery about the epilogue. Will have to be careful in how I phrase it though, I don’t want to do any spoilers, especially for the die-hard Lincoln Rhyme fans. 

Since then, I’ve been having a very restful faux-nap. Eyes shut but brain awake. Cosy. 

The 3rd of March. 

Zopiclone, Olbas Oil, Strepsils and Difflam are what’s getting me through this. I finally got some sleep again with the aid of drugs, so feel fairly human still, I just sound like a walrus every time I have a coughing fit. 

I had an email from Anthony Nolan about the training day in March, which will be in London on the 19th. I’ve booked my train tickets and for the first time, I’m going to travel in my wheelchair by myself. Bit scary. The email also reminded me that I’d had another one the other day with some things I needed to fill in and sign so I did those too. This included a short course on data protection with a test at the end which was really stressful! It almost felt like I was back at school. 

A sedate afternoon. I got a blog post done, and we checked our kitty supplies because Shaki is bringing me a new one tomorrow! Her name is Monica (not a cat name) and she has already been through a lot. I am hoping she is wanting hugs. I also got an invitation from Robyn to go and see her, Stu and Herbie in May and I am SO excited I cannot tell you. 

The 4th of March. 

No kitty. I spent my morning all excited, watching every car that went past, hoping it was Shaki. However, she called me having left the vet and now she may or may not come tomorrow. Basically, she’s had some tremors, and has had a blood test today, the results of which will come back tomorrow. Shaki doesn’t want to bring me a cat who I’ll have to be taking to the vet all the time, so I just have to wait a little bit longer. 

So the only fun event of the day has been Christine coming home for the weekend. I was watching an episode of Pretty Little Liars which she hasn’t seen yet so she wasn’t allowed in until had finished. 

My cough and mouth feel better. Not 100%, but improved. I am greatly pleased by this because I was not enamoured with the prospect of more tongue injections.