The 21st & 22nd; I wish I could make it easier.
The 21st of August. This summer has been such garbage. Last night I had to have my blanket on top of my duvet because it was so cold. I am wearing a polo neck jumper in the middle of August. Ridiculous.
This morning I did a blog post which took forever to upload - I think I need to look at the app I use because I'm fairly certain that's to blame. Spent a lot of time sitting with the kittens - still no joy from Hugo or Henrietta, they don't want to talk to me. I think Hugo does want to explore, he's just super timid about even leaving the cage.
After lunch, I went to the QE to see Dean. When I arrived, a doctor was in with him, but Orlando was hanging around the nurses' station so we went to the kitchen for a catch up. He was fascinated by my wheelchair, and I made him feel old because I told him about the decade anniversary. Dean wasn't good - it is really hard to get his pain under control and until they do, he can't have any chemo (if that's what he decides he wants) or go home. He was making the small pain noise that I have made myself many a time. It's involuntary and it means it's really bad. I wish I could make it easier. I can't bear to think of him like this.
The 22nd of August.
It would be so nice to wake up and not hear Donald Trump's voice on the Today programme. It's such a crappy way to start a day. Ugh.
Morning was breakfast, bit of kitten petting and putting some crocheted goodies in the post for Peter and Sophie. We went out at half eleven because I was meeting Sadie for lunch at the Cereal Killer Café at twelve. Incredibly, she actually arrived before me. That never happens. It took us a long time to decide on what we wanted, despite us both having looked at the menu a lot online before going. I eventually went for the Chocopottomus, which is Coco Pops, Krave, and a Kinder Happy Hippo with chocolate milk, plus I had cinnamon bun cookie dough bites on top. Oh, the joys of being an adult. I am now hungry again so cereal for every meal is probably not a viable lifestyle choice.
We had fun reviewing last night's My Dad Wrote A Porno, her recent holiday, my new kittens and medical exploits. We also were very bemused by the twelve (ish) year old boy near us who looked like he'd been plucked from Saved by the Bell - white t-shirt tucked into some very dad jeans that were belted. He could only have looked more 90's if he'd had curtains.
Since getting home, I've had to get changed because I can't seem to dress appropriately for the weather. It's too inconsistent!