Slowly sorting things out for Tuesday.
Woke this morning thinking it was Monday! Then again I was up at 05.00 because Diz was sick
in my bed and only dozed off again at about 07.00 after changing all the bedding, cleaning his litter tray and all of the excitement. So befuddled is reasonable I guess.
Mum says I have to take my (toe)nail varnish off. Apparently you cannot wear it in hospital? Odd that they don't tell you that beforehand then
Flowers are acceptable on this ward, so I take it personal items are too. I intend to take Brianna's Edgar Allen Poe and the photo of my cats that Case painted her awesome picture from; part-funded by Bruce. So the Cellar will be with me.
The risks are very small, but I have included the hospital details in case something untoward happens. So you have a place of pilgrimage.
In badder news, Dads has had his dual diagnosis of dementia and epilepsy challenged. Like me, he may have auto-immune issues. While my consultant merely suggested it might be something that they need to deal with before any other treatment, his consultant's first suggested diagnosis was lung cancer.
Poor old Mum. Well, I say that, but her immediate reaction was to be really harsh to both of us because we are ruining her life. Her body has embarked on a tour of stress related bowel issues, and she has made it clear that she cannot go to the Doctor because she has no time for an appointment between running around after Dad and me.
I do honestly feel for her.
And I'm not actually ill, although I am obviously diseased, so have been baking (things she likes, like scones), cleaning and ironing. It makes for a tense atmosphere though.
I have come out in a horrible series of what we called "blind" spots; spots with no discernible head to them. They are big and red and sore, but can't be squeezed. I assume this is part of detox. I guess some things get worse before they get better.