The 9th & 10th; It still feels like I am sitting on a cushion of jelly.

The 9th of January.

Well it’s been a curious day. I had to get up at quarter past five to ensure I had time to drink a litre of water before 6am, from which I had to be nil by mouth.

We arrived at about quarter to seven, and had to wait outside the Short Stay Wellcome Unit until someone let us and the two nurses without working passes in. Then we sat in the waiting room and watched Good Morning Britain until someone came to take me to my bedspace.

I was in the corner of the room – it used to be the ICU when it was the main hospital, so the bedspaces are massive and it means I am not crammed next to loads of people. I have been here before but we can’t remember what on earth for.

Mr. Titley came to see me, and he ran through once again what was going to happen. Examination under anaesthetic, possibly biopsy, possibly smear, possibly photographs. In the end, none of those things happened, just the exam. I signed the consent form, and off he went. Then I met with the anaesthetist, Dr. Allan, who was very nice, as all anaesthetists are. We talked about why he didn’t want to knock me out – same as Dr. Thompson, in that I’d end up stuck in ICU and if they ever did wake me up, my lungs would be in worse shape than they were going in which we can’t have. He had to talk me through all the risks of epidurals and regional blocks etc, which I was happy to take, then he went away and I finished being admitted by the nurse.

Miss Byrom wasn’t expected to arrive until about ten, so I didn’t get changed until twenty to, and I’d not been ready long when a porter came to get me so my timing was impeccable. I started off in the little anaesthetic room, where the trainee anaesthetist got stuck up against a valve in my wrist, so Dr. Allan had to stick the cannula in halfway up my forearm. I needed it so they could give me a bit of antibiotics and fluid so there was a balance against the spinal injection when he did it. When it came to that time, I had to sit with my legs over the edge of the bed, and hunch over my pillow on my lap. I got sprayed with super cold cleaning spray all over my back, then there was a small amount of local which felt the same as always, and then he did the regional block injection which I didn’t feel at all. All I noticed was a spreading feeling of warmth from my bum downwards, which was sort of nice but also disarming. I could move my legs to get them back on the bed, then I had to wait for them to get heavy before we could do anything more. I didn’t expect the sensation to be so acute – despite my brain knowing that I have the muscle strength to move my legs, I physically could not lift them, not even using my arms. It is absolutely bizarre.

At that point, we could move through to theatre, where my legs were put in the stirrups, and nine strangers got to see my vagina. That was interesting, because I could see them being flopped about into different positions, but I had no feeling at all; it was like they were broken, like they belonged to someone else. Then my vagina got sprayed with the cold spray to test if I could feel anything, which I could not, so they were able to begin. As far as I could tell, Miss Byrom tore through the adhesions again, then there was just a lot of shoving – I was aware of pressure, but no pain. It is entirely scarred, so no biopsy would tell us anything, and Mr. Titley cannot do any surgery to help. It took them about 20 minutes of shoving and looking to decide this, then some packing and a catheter were put in, and they started discussing what might be done next. It sounds like I’m going to end up with some kind of custom made silicone dilator but we will have to see. Emails must be sent.

Once covered up, I was taken to recovery, where I got a hot blanket which was so beautifully toasty, and we waited for my theatre notes so I could come back to the ward. And here I have sat since twelve, waiting for the anaesthetic to wear off and the catheter to come out. I have had coffee and a panini, and can move my legs independently again, which is nice. It still feels like I am sitting on a cushion of jelly, five hours later, but the catheter is out and I’m hoping to be able to pee in the next half an hour so I can then go home.

For all the NHS crisis talk, you wouldn’t know it here. I have been taken care of wonderfully, they are showing no signs of stress and I haven’t got angry at anyone.

The 10th of January.

I was woken up by Mommy telling me she had to go to Grandma’s because she was being taken into hospital. The cough she seemed to be incubating has definitely matured into a nasty chest infection and as the day has gone on, she has had tests and been admitted to have IV steroids and antibiotics while being on 5 litres of oxygen. That’s more than I was using even when my lung collapsed so she is really quite unwell. Apparently the doctor was not exactly optimistic.

My day has been a pretty quiet one, as one would expect the day after surgery. I was supposed to be going to a clinic at St. Giles but I cancelled that – I’m not sure how productive it would have been, and we’ve agreed I’ll reschedule once I’ve had my fancy MRI.

I had a couple of other phone calls; one with Adam from Black Sheep about my hair colour, one with the eye department at the QE to sort out an appointment, one with Lucy from Anthony Nolan to discuss press for Still Standing, and one with a lady who is going to come and view the kittens on Friday.

Speaking of them, I watched some more of Big Little Lies with them asleep in my arms. I’m almost reluctant to allow their adoption!

The 7th & 8th; I think about it all the time.

The 7th of May.

The eyes are less sleepy today, and that is welcome, but what is less so is that it has been painful to have my left eye open since I woke up, no matter how many eye drops I put in.

It’s been a day of mainly blog admin, so a short entry today. This morning, I wrote about yesterday while watching Sunday Brunch, occasionally muting it when Pixie Lott was on (I’m sorry but I just can’t stand her).

After lunch, I finished typing up the six blog posts, and they are scheduled to be published over the next several hours. While I did this, I watched four more episodes of 13 Reasons Why. Now I have four left, and I don’t know if I can be arsed to watch them or if I’ll just read what happens. I want to know, but the show is kind of a drag.

I have been thinking more about my arm. Of course I have, I think about it all the time. I wonder if we are being somewhat narrow-minded about the cause? Is there anything else that could be the reason behind the swelling? The only thing I can come up with is lymphedema, but if it is that, surely the compression garment would be having some kind of effect? None of it makes any sense.

The 8th of May.

I am desperate to have a nap again and my level of pain is still the same. Probably going to have to double the pregablin I think, so I will get even sleepier. But maybe that will wear off and the pain will get better.

The only interesting thing that happened today was that I had my appointment with Mr. Titley, the plastic surgeon that Miss Byrom had written to about me. First of all, I had to tell him my entire history, and there’s so many things to remember now. I’m going to have to write down exactly what I have been through and when in a relatively concise format. I almost forgot about the venoplasties, despite my arm being literally right in front of me.

Anyway. We then moved on to why I was actually there. I ran through my history with the Women’s and Miss Byrom and what we have been through so far. He talked to me about what he has done for Miss Byrom before, which is not like what I will probably need, so I may well need some kind of bespoke procedure. Typical of me. However, he can’t offer me any particular treatment until he knows exactly what he is dealing with, so I will need to be examined under general anaesthetic. He needs to talk to his anaesthetist who will need to talk to Dr. Thompson, then I’ll probably get a date for another ambulatory care day.

He asked what I’d like to get out of this, and frankly I just want one part of my body to do its fucking job like it used to. If someone were mad enough to want to date me, I don’t want yet another reason to put them off. Considering the fact that most men ask if I can still have sex when they find out about my disability, I’d like saying yes to not become a lie.

The 30th & 31st; I feel like a collection of conditions.

The 30th of March. 

Fairly acceptable breathing today. I’m on 0.5 litres of oxygen. Normal air is not quite oxygenated enough for me. 

I at least had a better sleep, and this morning I got a blog post done and not much else. I had another appointment (which I had entirely forgotten about) at the Women’s at half past one, so we ate our lunches and got on our way. Thankfully no hellish traffic jams today, but there was nowhere to park so Mommy pulled over, I drove off in my chair with the oxygen on the back and she found somewhere to put the car. 

I was seeing Miss Byrom for a follow-up after the procedure I had in November, and Sue, the sexual health nurse, was there too. I said that I thought it had been successful, but only up to a point. She examined me, using a very small speculum and a very long swab, and it turns out part of me has sealed up again. JOY. It’s to do with a thing I have called lichen planus and it’s just another stupid thing that I have that has no cause. I have to carry on with the dilators, and she’s going to talk to a plastic surgeon about me to see if he has any ideas. 

Too many things wrong with me right now. I feel like a collection of conditions rather than a human woman. 

The 31st of March. 

Today was the most normal I have felt in a while. My sats were good enough for me to not need extra oxygen for most of the day. I’m on it now, but still, it’s been a good day. 

This morning, I didn’t fancy watching Eamonn and Ruth be unbearable, so I caught up on The Magicians and did some mindless crocheting. After this project, I really need to make something for nurse Jenny’s baby and for James. I also had issues with Vue and their stupid website trying to book tickets for Ghost in the Shell. 

It’s an odd sort of film. I kind of get the premise and I found it interesting, but I didn’t really see the point. Having done some research, I think it’s too large a story and world to cram into a 100 minute film. One thing I did like was the choice Scarlett Johansson made to lead her walk with her head. It was curious because the company in the film go to so much effort to make Major appear human, but her walk was so unwomanly. Hm. 

Tonight I am going out to The Glee to see Fin Taylor and Mat Ewins, but there is no way I am climbing the stairs, so I’m going in the chair and have arranged for someone to let me up in the lift. Then tomorrow I will feel terrible, I suspect. 

The 18th & 19th; There was so much pain as it ripped away from the skin inside.

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 17th & 18th; I’ll finally have a smear!

The 17th of October. 

Today has been a pile of garbage. 

I’m still really achy, and was not thrilled at the prospect of sitting in my wheelchair much, but I didn’t think I’d be at the Women’s Hospital too long so it would be okay. How wrong I was. 

I arrived in colposcopy clinic at 11:15, but wasn’t seen until about 12, when Sue had come up and intervened (of her own volition; I didn’t even know she was coming). A nurse called me through, and we went to a room where I met Miss Byrom, and Sue and the two nurses were there too. We had a very brief chat about my problem, then it was jeans and pants off time. I put a gown on, and got into the very undignified position in the stirrups. On the ceiling were some pretty flowers, but I was far more interested in the screen with a big picture of my vagina on it. Miss Byrom attempted to insert a very small speculum, but it wouldn’t go in. There is some kind of obstruction, adhesion, like I had some sort of injury which has healed incorrectly. We have no idea what’s happened, but at least we have an explanation as to why I can’t be examined, and why I got nowhere with the dilators. So I’ll have to go back to be put under anaesthetic and my vagina will be “opened up”, to put it politely, and I’ll finally have a smear!

I then got taken to pre-op, where I waited for a good forty-five minutes before we even started. An auxiliary nurse did my height, weight and blood pressure, and I didn’t need an ECG because they have a recent one on file. Then back to the waiting room until a pre-op nurse could see me. 

I read some more of The Bone Clocks (I have made a great deal of progress in it today), and eventually a nurse came for me. We went to her room, and we had to go through all the usual questions. They had a lot of my information from my GA for the coil last year, so I gave her a potted version of my history, then made sure she had an up to date drugs list. She gave me several leaflets about GAs and preventing DVTs and PEs, then I took some blood forms off to the phlebotomist. That turned out to be the auxiliary nurse from before, poor woman, having to do multiple jobs. She said “That’s the NHS for you” and I said “That’s Jeremy Hunt for you”. Anyway. I finally got out at 3, and found Mommy in the car park who was very very bored and cold and hungry. 

Christine rang Mommy’s phone but we missed the call, then I rang her back to find that she’d tried to ring me but couldn’t get through, so we decided that when we got home, I’d back up my phone and tomorrow we’ll go to the Apple shop first thing. She’d actually phoned to complain about how the boiler people are a bunch of incompetent bastards and she won’t have any hot water until the end of the week, the second one of this saga. 

When we got home, we both ate lunch, then I went upstairs for an hour and a half to back up my phone. I couldn’t bear to sit for that long, so I lay on Christine’s bed with the electric blanket on to try to ease my back a little and listened to podcasts. It’s done now, and I’m looking forward to sleep. 

The 18th of October. 

Awake so early. Needed to be at the Apple shop for 9 to be able to see someone about my phone’s incoming call/text situation. I wasn’t first in the queue because being in the wheelchair, people walked past me into the shop while I had to wait for someone to activate the lift. Still, there were only a couple of people ahead of me, and the chap organising the Genius Bar said I’d be waiting about half an hour. He said I could leave and come back but there was no point, so Mommy went to Faculty to get me a coffee while I twiddled my thumbs. 

A guy came over about half past nine to hear about my issues, which I duly explained. He ran diagnostics and because of what I’d told him, he was happy to replace the phone once he’d checked it for any secret damage. That was all grand, except that they didn’t have any in stock, so I am awaiting an email to let me know one has been delivered. He has to say 10-14 days, but it’ll apparently be more like 5. 

Once finished my we went to Hotel Chocolat where I bought a Chocolate Yumpkin, and Boots for lip balm and some man tissues for Daddy before coming home. 

We had lunch and watched the new episode of Criminal Minds (so exciting I cannot explain), then Mommy ferried Grandma back and forth to Fellowship while I crocheted bits of the current project. 

The kittens were booked in for their first lot of jabs at 5, so we bundled them and Amy into the carriers to take them to the vet. It surprisingly easy to get them in, and there was no crying on the way. Lydon’s was full of dogs which I loved, but the cats were not so keen. I set the carriers facing each other so they were slightly comforted by that, and I crouched next to them. I took a lot of pictures of all the dogs but I didn’t pet any of them because I didn’t want the cats to smell them on me. 

When it was our turn, we started off with Amy, and she was good until it was time for the needle, at which point she spun round and hissed while the syringe was still in her neck. She was only too happy to go back in the carrier. All the kittens were really good; nobody hissed or scratched or bit, they were all just a bit wriggly. 

Back at home, I took a parcel that had been delivered to us next door, so I got to meet new neighbour Richard, who (it turns out) actually follows me on Twitter! He saw me in the Sutton Observer a while ago. Who knew we’d become neighbours? I also saw George again who was not poorly but he was a little bit grumpy because nursery had made him tired. I couldn’t stay long, because we had a lady coming to look at kittens and we needed to eat dinner before she arrived. 

I showed her Archie, Alfie and Angelica, as they’re the available ones. She really liked Alfie and Angelica  which is good because at least she’s got one who’s relatively confident. She asked all the right questions and I’m really happy with her as an adopter, so once the kittens are ready, she can have them!

The 27th & 28th; I could just feel the tears in my face and couldn’t speak for rage.

The 27th of July. 

Woke up at stupid time AGAIN. I am sure it is the fault of the Tramadol even though it is supposed Fri have the opposite effect if anything. I would mind less if it was actually doing anything for the pain but I am in just as much misery as before, even more so today because the tops of my legs hurt. For crying out loud. 

This morning I had an appointment at the Women’s to see a nurse about the problems I have being examined. Apparently, radiotherapy can cause a condition called vaginismus. Yeah, I’m going to talk about my vagina, if you are upset about that then skip to the next paragraph. People don’t talk about this enough, there is no information, so I’m doing it. It’s very painful and annoying but it can be treated, hooray! I have been prescribed these things called vaginal dilators. There are five sizes, the largest of which is apparently terrifying and I will never have to use it. I start with the smallest, obviously, and I have to use it every day until it is easy to insert, then move on to the next size up. I will require lots and lots of pillows, a distraction and a lock on my bedroom door. It’s going to be interesting. 

While I was seeing her, Mommy went to see the pharmacist in haematology clinic (they’re on the same site) to ask how long we should wait before deciding the Tramadol isn’t working, as the doctor had said it would take a few days. It turns out she didn’t know what she was talking about because I should have felt relief within 30-60 minutes of taking the first dose. Obviously, that has not happened. My consultant was not around to prescribe more or something stronger, so we are ringing the GP at 8am to get an appointment and make them write something up for me. I can’t carry on like this. 

Before going home, we went into town again to get my Pandora charm for Saturday because we won’t get another chance before then. We got the diagnosis anniversary one too, because it’s only a few weeks away anyway. They just have to stay in the boxes until the days themselves. 

After lunch, Mommy went to see Grandma, and I set about watching more episodes of Stranger Things (only three left!) and writing up a monster blog post from Saturday and Sunday. It took all afternoon with the uploading of the photos too, then when I’d finally got it posted, something malfunctioned and the entire thing got deleted. Many obscenities were uttered. 

I went to give the kittens a stroke to lower my blood pressure, then did it all over again. I have a problem with the cats now, because they are all my friends, it means that they all want to be petted simultaneously and I do not have enough hands! Nettie is the worst – if anyone is getting attention, she has to get involved. So jealous. 

The 28th of July. 

Yep, I am no longer sleeping past six am it seems. That’s fine, it just means I’ll get through more coffee and Netflix will definitely be value for money for a while. This morning, I finished off Stranger Things. It was so good. 

I got a GP appointment today for 11.40, because we rang up at 8. I had the chiro first, and obviously we talked about what’s going on with my back. It seems that they know Mr. Harland very well; they refer patients to each other. Trine said that if she were having spinal surgery, she would want him to do it. She also explained what actual surgery he might do, which is really good to know. One of the receptionists is training to be a doctor, and she was in surgery with him just the other week! I am feeling very confident about seeing him now. 

Straight to the GP who was on time, astonishingly. It was a lady I don’t know, and it didn’t go well. She hadn’t bothered to even look at my notes before seeing me. I got her to sort out the vaginal dilators, then we talked pain relief. She wouldn’t give me opiates. I have to take gabapentin in combination with the tramadol and regular paracetamol. I am not expecting it to work. I will try it and if/when it doesn’t work, I’m going back to hospital and getting Ram to write me up oxycontin or morphine. When we left I was so angry, I could just feel the tears in my face and couldn’t speak for rage. 

I calmed down after an hour at home, had lunch, and this afternoon my friend Anna came round. We had coffee and cake and lots of chat. Memories from school, of Miss Jackson, the deaths of our respective pets (R.I.P. Polo and Oscar), all the crap that’s going on with my body. She is a teacher, so we discussed that a lot. Secondary school, which I think is probably harder than primary. All those hormones. She said some very disturbing things about the way girls talk to each other, it sounds dreadful. They have no problem calling each other slags, they are of the opinion that if you are drunk or in a short skirt, you are asking to be raped. It is horrifying. They need Anna because they are not learning about feminism from anyone else. 

She left just after half four, and shortly after, a lady called Tracy arrived with her mother to view Nettie. Sheila rang me about it while I was in the changing room at the chiro, so I had to cut her off, but she emailed me the details and I set up the meeting. They are lovely people, very knowledgeable about cats and dogs – she has a boxer but she’s very timid and obviously wants something to mother. Nettie will absolutely fine with that; she is will be the alpha. Everyone was very well-behaved actually, But Nettie is who she wanted and Nettie wanted her. Perfect match. She’ll be picking her up in the morning!

Keep sharing and ask your friends to! Jeremy Hunt needs to see this.