The 2nd & 3rd; The duck and waffle was my favourite.
The 2nd of October. Christine's birthday!
Up early, trying to find a bag to put the presents in and advising parents on fashion choices. Daddy was having a crisis because he didn't feel like both parents could wear pale trousers or they'd look like twins. After a great deal of agonising, he got changed our he would've been sad all day.
The train journey was uneventful, bar the moment just before we arrived when I realised that I had left the presents in the car. I was so angry with myself, I hit the table and wanted to cry but didn't. We took a cab straight to Duck & Waffle and waited for Christine by the lift where it was very chilly.
The lift took us straight up to level 40 (so very high), and we checked our coats and the wheelchair before going to our table. We had to have a lot of discussion about what to order because it isn't a traditional menu. We all had a seasonal spritz, then some n'duja and Gruyère bread (I couldn't eat it - too spicy), Dorset crab, roasted octopus, goat faggot, puy lentils, duck and waffle, seasonal vegetables, spicy ox cheek doughnut and dark chocolate brownie sundae. Everything was shared, except my pollock meatballs because I didn't fancy the other small plates. The duck and waffle was my favourite.
We finished earlier than expected so had an hour to kill before Dressed by Angels, so we went to Spitalfields Market. I spied a Konditor and Cook and felt the need for a brownie, only to find myself recognised by my old pal Lizzy Hathaway-White who I knew back before I became ill and we were supposed to go to college together. She gave us a free small Curly Wurly birthday cake and I bought four brownies, and it was all just wonderful. Pact coffee were doing a pop-up nearby so I got a flat white from there to get rid of the taste of the terrible one I had at the end of our meal. We bimbled through the market and I spotted a Bread Ahead stand where they had chocolate doughnuts. I had to have one.
We did eventually get to the exhibition, where we saw so many clothes! Costumes from The Red Shoes, Sherlock Holmes, James Bond, Dracula, Downton Abbey, Doctor Who, Game of Thrones, Hamlet (worn by actual Cumberbatch), Dr. Parnassus (worn by Heath!), Titanic, Kanye jacket from the Brits, and the Lobby Boy costume from The Grand Budapest Hotel.
Again, it took less time than expected. We had a wander around Brick Lane but then there wasn't much else to do! We ended up saying goodbye to Christine at Shoreditch the station, and we hailed a cab back to Euston. We were really early for our train, so after getting some drinks, we sat around for an hour, watching people run for trains. I was so tired, I just wanted to get home and get my shoes off, as I could feel my right foot swelling. Once on the train, I plugged in my headphones and ate my doughnut, getting very sticky fingers.
The 3rd of October.
Oh, I had a big sleep. I can always tell I've been in London because my cotton wool pad after cleaning my face is covered in filth and my breathing is worse for all the crap I've inhaled. Living there would require full-time oxygen in the house.
This morning, I wrote about yesterday while watching Saturday Kitchen and catching up on Great British Menu. It seemed to take ages! Also got Christine's presents in the post so hopefully they will arrive on Monday and she is going to FaceTime me when she's opening them.
After lunch, I finally got round to reading the paper, and I had to rinse my hair because it was so full of product. It's not completely clean, but I can at least brush it now without fear of breakage. Daddy and I went to see The Martian at ten to four and it was lots of fun. There were some stressful parts which saw me clutching at my face, but the majority was good, clean, Mars hijinks. There was slight overuse of the word "luckily", but otherwise no gripes. I liked the LOTR and Iron Man in-jokes a lot.
I just watched everybody in the film and in the cinema moving around. Everybody who is ambulant. I am so jealous of them. I keep thinking "Why me?" and I hate that because it is futile. I just wish there was something that could be done. I will never get a transplant because in theory, my lungs won't get worse, but there's also no hope of them ever improving. Between a rock and a hard place is a hard place to live.