In one of the stars I shall be living.

View Original

The 4th & 5th; Recovery day.

The 4th of June.  Recovery day. I was woken by the dawn at a ridiculous time again but today I put a flannel over my eyes and went back to sleep until half past nine. Then I had to heave myself out of bed which was not easy because my back was fucking awful, having been sat in terrible chairs all day yesterday.

There was a family get-together at a pub at one o'clock, so we arrived to big hugs from Hilary and Jeremy (both she and I were suffering a little) and took seats next to Tilly, Sophie and Peter. Inevitably, we ended up discussing London and the events of last night. I can't help but feel this is why we need a Labour government more than ever, because the Tory Theresa May way is evidently ineffective, particularly when she has decimated the police service and accused them of "crying wolf" when they warned her how that would end.

The mood lifted when we were brought food - life seems a little bit less dark when you are surrounded by family and mac'n'cheese. I was having to eat with one hand while I used the other as a visor because my eyes were not tolerating any light today. It has been difficult.

I got to a point at which I had to go to the bathroom, which I really didn't want to have to do because I had to walk and it was pissing it down with rain. I had Mommy walk with me, and as soon as I got inside I had to commandeer a chair from a random table so I could get my breath back. I suddenly became aware of how pathetic I must have looked when I heard Mommy say "It's okay, she just needs to get her breath back". Yeah, there's nothing that can be done to help, I just need to breathe. We got Daddy to bring the oxygen for me to return to the marquee. Couldn't do that again.

For the last hour, our table was joined by John and Maddie (who had been there already, but mingling with other people) and we talked about the amount of medical professionals who had been there last night, and plans for the rest of the week. They are going to Falmouth for a few days before they go on honeymoon, so I was recommending all my favourite places.

I think we left just after three? I curled myself up in the car with the oxygen, much like last night, except today I was a bit damp too thanks to the rain. We took Taid back to his hotel, then home, where I ate the brownie I bought at the Gloucester services and Christine and I watched last night's Doctor Who. I'm very tired.

The 5th of June. 

Rain. So much rain. I thought it best to stay inside. 90% of my day has been spent on the sofa, which has been so much better for my back. I can stand a bit more upright today.

Most of my mornings right now involve trying to adjust to the daylight, creating a visor with my hands, listening to the news. I had to mute it today when Theresa May started her speech having a go at Jeremy Corbyn when she has LITERALLY BEEN IN CHARGE FOR SEVEN YEARS. Anyway.

Mommy and Daddy went out about noon to have lunch with Taid, then take him to the service station where he was meeting his coach to Looe. Christine stayed with me (I was just not up to going out for the fourth day in a row) and she bought us lunch from the bakery round the corner. I had a chicken mayonnaise sandwich and a vast Belgian bun - really tasty and a good bake (as Mary and Paul would say) but really enormous. I was incredibly full afterwards. We noticed Pitch Perfect 2 has arrived on Netflix so we watched that while we ate and had a lovely time singing along (as did the crow that has been sat outside our window all day).

I actually managed to do a small amount of crochet today for the first time in weeks - just a small pocket to keep my eye drops in (they have to be kept out of the light). Still, it is a start. I still have a doily to go back to but I'm not sure which hook I was using for it. Erk.

Jesus Christ I am so fucking tired. Apparently we might have a venture out tomorrow. I want to stay in bed.