lizziec: (Horrible Histories dancing monks)
I was watching Law and Order: UK a couple of weeks ago when I suddenly shouted out in surprise, because I recognised the location they had been shooting at. I knew they filmed in and around Sutton (and no, this story isn't nearly as cool as [livejournal.com profile] angelicalangie's - I didn't meet anyone, or even see them filming). What I didn't know was that they had also filmed only a couple of hundred yards from the house I grew up in from the time I was 7, and also only a couple of hundred yards from the flat we lived in before that.

map

This map illustrates just how close they were. Point A is my old house (where I lived till I was 21 [2005]), Point B is where they filmed.

cut for image heavy post )

I exclaimed in excitement to Phil about somewhere so close featuring and bemoaning that I wasn't around to get an autograph and got a "oh yeah, I knew they filmed there. I watched them do it!"

He didn't collect any autographs :(

This entry was originally posted at http://lizziec.dreamwidth.org/425460.html. There are currently comments on the original entry.
lizziec: (Horrible Histories dancing monks)
I was watching Law and Order: UK a couple of weeks ago when I suddenly shouted out in surprise, because I recognised the location they had been shooting at. I knew they filmed in and around Sutton (and no, this story isn't nearly as cool as [livejournal.com profile] angelicalangie's - I didn't meet anyone, or even see them filming). What I didn't know was that they had also filmed only a couple of hundred yards from the house I grew up in from the time I was 7, and also only a couple of hundred yards from the flat we lived in before that.

map

This map illustrates just how close they were. Point A is my old house (where I lived till I was 21 [2005]), Point B is where they filmed.

cut for image heavy post )

I exclaimed in excitement to Phil about somewhere so close featuring and bemoaning that I wasn't around to get an autograph and got a "oh yeah, I knew they filmed there. I watched them do it!"

He didn't collect any autographs :(

This entry was originally posted at http://lizziec.dreamwidth.org/425460.html. There are currently comments on the original entry.
lizziec: (Mummy and little lizzie)
I was watching Law and Order: UK a couple of weeks ago when I suddenly shouted out in surprise, because I recognised the location they had been shooting at. I knew they filmed in and around Sutton (and no, this story isn't nearly as cool as [livejournal.com profile] angelicalangie's - I didn't meet anyone, or even see them filming). What I didn't know was that they had also filmed only a couple of hundred yards from the house I grew up in from the time I was 7, and also only a couple of hundred yards from the flat we lived in before that.

map

This map illustrates just how close they were. Point A is my old house (where I lived till I was 21 [2005]), Point B is where they filmed.

cut for image heavy post )

I exclaimed in excitement to Phil about somewhere so close featuring and bemoaning that I wasn't around to get an autograph and got a "oh yeah, I knew they filmed there. I watched them do it!"

He didn't collect any autographs :(
lizziec: (me - mummy and little lizzie)
We had mum's funeral today, and we couldn't have had a nicer day for it, weather wise. It was the kind of day mum would have loved, and she would have been extremely gratified and touched that so many people came to show their love and care for her by coming to say goodbye to her.

The funeral directors, a local firm called W A Truelove and Son were amazing, and made the day go very smoothly. We arrived everywhere exactly on time, never too early or too late. Mum was carried into church by a mixture of family and friends (Ben, foo, my uncle Allan, Duncan [mum's partner], Mark F and Giles), which was lovely. I held it together more or less until we got into the church and found just how many people there were (the church really was packed with mum's friends from all sorts of places, even my Auntie Joan, who we've not spoken to for years, and my cousin Mandy [ditto] came) and ended up crying through most all of the introduction and the first hymn.

Service sheet is here by the way.

After the hymn, I read the tribute which Phil and I had written together, and managed to keep it together enough to read it, though my voice kept breaking whenever I looked up and saw how many people were there for mum, so I tried to keep my eyes on the paper.

The tribute )

My uncle David (mum's brother) read the bible reading, and then Ben read the poem, which is Long Distance II by Tony Harrison, which I have posted here before, but I'll post it again for completeness.

Long Distance II by Tony Harrison )

The vicar (a lovely man, Mick Hough, who was miles better than the vicar we had at the same church for our wedding [his sermon involved homosexuals and protestants in ancient corinth]), used the poem as a way to launch into his address, which was beautiful, and talked about the finality of death for those left behind, but the hope for the next life and resurrection.

The service at the cemetery was very short and nice (and very well attended again), but seeing mum lowered into the ground was very hard, and so was putting a handful of earth in actually. After that we mingled for a bit (during which the mormon in attendance asked if we minded if he consecrated the grave "for your dad's sake" - we said he could, because honestly it doesn't matter to me either way, but I'm kind of pissed he invoked daddy*) before making our way back to the house to collect the car so we could meet everyone else at the pub near the church, where everyone mingled some more and talked about mum, which was nice in a different kind of way to the rest of the day. Once again, everyone was utterly amazing.

The pictures of the flowers are here (sorry, most of them are sideways as I uploaded them before I realised, then ran out of energy to fix them. Maybe I'll get around to it at a later date). There aren't many because we requested family flowers only, with donations to go to the Macmillan Nurses through the Undertaker who will collate them. The flowers we did get were stunningly beautiful though, and very mum I thought. The flowers from Phil and Ben and I are in the middle of this photo:



The ones to the left are from the Overal side of the family (dad's family), the ones to the right are from the Walker side (mum's side).

That's it, I think. Or at least it is for now. I'm pretty tired, but suffering from lack of arsedness to actually go to bed...

lizziec: (me - mummy and little lizzie)
We had mum's funeral today, and we couldn't have had a nicer day for it, weather wise. It was the kind of day mum would have loved, and she would have been extremely gratified and touched that so many people came to show their love and care for her by coming to say goodbye to her.

The funeral directors, a local firm called W A Truelove and Son were amazing, and made the day go very smoothly. We arrived everywhere exactly on time, never too early or too late. Mum was carried into church by a mixture of family and friends (Ben, foo, my uncle Allan, Duncan [mum's partner], Mark F and Giles), which was lovely. I held it together more or less until we got into the church and found just how many people there were (the church really was packed with mum's friends from all sorts of places, even my Auntie Joan, who we've not spoken to for years, and my cousin Mandy [ditto] came) and ended up crying through most all of the introduction and the first hymn.

Service sheet is here by the way.

After the hymn, I read the tribute which Phil and I had written together, and managed to keep it together enough to read it, though my voice kept breaking whenever I looked up and saw how many people were there for mum, so I tried to keep my eyes on the paper.

The tribute )

My uncle David (mum's brother) read the bible reading, and then Ben read the poem, which is Long Distance II by Tony Harrison, which I have posted here before, but I'll post it again for completeness.

Long Distance II by Tony Harrison )

The vicar (a lovely man, Mick Hough, who was miles better than the vicar we had at the same church for our wedding [his sermon involved homosexuals and protestants in ancient corinth]), used the poem as a way to launch into his address, which was beautiful, and talked about the finality of death for those left behind, but the hope for the next life and resurrection.

The service at the cemetery was very short and nice (and very well attended again), but seeing mum lowered into the ground was very hard, and so was putting a handful of earth in actually. After that we mingled for a bit (during which the mormon in attendance asked if we minded if he consecrated the grave "for your dad's sake" - we said he could, because honestly it doesn't matter to me either way, but I'm kind of pissed he invoked daddy*) before making our way back to the house to collect the car so we could meet everyone else at the pub near the church, where everyone mingled some more and talked about mum, which was nice in a different kind of way to the rest of the day. Once again, everyone was utterly amazing.

The pictures of the flowers are here (sorry, most of them are sideways as I uploaded them before I realised, then ran out of energy to fix them. Maybe I'll get around to it at a later date). There aren't many because we requested family flowers only, with donations to go to the Macmillan Nurses through the Undertaker who will collate them. The flowers we did get were stunningly beautiful though, and very mum I thought. The flowers from Phil and Ben and I are in the middle of this photo:



The ones to the left are from the Overal side of the family (dad's family), the ones to the right are from the Walker side (mum's side).

That's it, I think. Or at least it is for now. I'm pretty tired, but suffering from lack of arsedness to actually go to bed...

lizziec: (me - mummy and little lizzie)
We had mum's funeral today, and we couldn't have had a nicer day for it, weather wise. It was the kind of day mum would have loved, and she would have been extremely gratified and touched that so many people came to show their love and care for her by coming to say goodbye to her.

The funeral directors, a local firm called W A Truelove and Son were amazing, and made the day go very smoothly. We arrived everywhere exactly on time, never too early or too late. Mum was carried into church by a mixture of family and friends (Ben, foo, my uncle Allan, Duncan [mum's partner], Mark F and Giles), which was lovely. I held it together more or less until we got into the church and found just how many people there were (the church really was packed with mum's friends from all sorts of places, even my Auntie Joan, who we've not spoken to for years, and my cousin Mandy [ditto] came) and ended up crying through most all of the introduction and the first hymn.

Service sheet is here by the way.

After the hymn, I read the tribute which Phil and I had written together, and managed to keep it together enough to read it, though my voice kept breaking whenever I looked up and saw how many people were there for mum, so I tried to keep my eyes on the paper.

The tribute )

My uncle David (mum's brother) read the bible reading, and then Ben read the poem, which is Long Distance II by Tony Harrison, which I have posted here before, but I'll post it again for completeness.

Long Distance II by Tony Harrison )

The vicar (a lovely man, Mick Hough, who was miles better than the vicar we had at the same church for our wedding [his sermon involved homosexuals and protestants in ancient corinth]), used the poem as a way to launch into his address, which was beautiful, and talked about the finality of death for those left behind, but the hope for the next life and resurrection.

The service at the cemetery was very short and nice (and very well attended again), but seeing mum lowered into the ground was very hard, and so was putting a handful of earth in actually. After that we mingled for a bit (during which the mormon in attendance asked if we minded if he consecrated the grave "for your dad's sake" - we said he could, because honestly it doesn't matter to me either way, but I'm kind of pissed he invoked daddy*) before making our way back to the house to collect the car so we could meet everyone else at the pub near the church, where everyone mingled some more and talked about mum, which was nice in a different kind of way to the rest of the day. Once again, everyone was utterly amazing.

The pictures of the flowers are here (sorry, most of them are sideways as I uploaded them before I realised, then ran out of energy to fix them. Maybe I'll get around to it at a later date). There aren't many because we requested family flowers only, with donations to go to the Macmillan Nurses through the Undertaker who will collate them. The flowers we did get were stunningly beautiful though, and very mum I thought. The flowers from Phil and Ben and I are in the middle of this photo:



The ones to the left are from the Overal side of the family (dad's family), the ones to the right are from the Walker side (mum's side).

That's it, I think. Or at least it is for now. I'm pretty tired, but suffering from lack of arsedness to actually go to bed...
lizziec: (MASH - Hawkeye Trapper bromance)
Well the good news, that I truly did not expect to be writing over the weekend, is that mum is still with us, and in some ways far stronger that we would or could have dared to imagine. For example, she managed a shower yesterday. She is, however, still on what Fiona, the brilliant Macmillan nurse calls a knife edge. She's still not really stable.

We know a little more about what is going on now. Mum has an infection which is making it hard to control her blood sugar, and has been on IV antibiotics for it since she was admitted on Thursday. The antibiotics haven't knocked it out so they started her on a second antibiotic today. They don't know where the infection is though, so obviously that makes it hard to treat. There is a possibility, though I don't know how actually likely it is, that the infection is being caused by the tumour itself (that part of the tissue of the tumour has died and become necrotic - that is, it's rotting away in her head). As of now it is just a theory though.

I think I mentioned the arrhythmia before. It's Arterial Fibrilation, and it is at least under control at the moment.

In her current condition they would not be able to start radiotherapy, and until she is more stable they're certainly not talking about transferring her from St Georges to anywhere, even the Royal Marsden, and are even further away from discussing her discharge.

Mum is a little more awake at the moment than she was over the weekend, which, given how sick she was on Friday will probably not surprise anyone. She also gets tired very easily - just sitting up for 10 mins means she has to sleep for the next hour. The fact that she is more with it and even able to sit up is the silver lining. Here is the cloud.

The tumour symptoms have and are continuing to get much worse. There's a constant nasal discharge, and the numbness and weakness in her face is getting worse. She can barely bite or chew (which is the reason why the doctors are probably going to put in a feeding [NG] tube tomorrow), and when she drinks, most of the liquid comes out again, though because of the numbness she isn't aware of it. The deafness in her left ear is worse, and her right eye is bulging out more. We've been told that the biggest danger of mum dying imminently comes from the fact that the tumour is wrapped her carotid artery. Apparently this could weaken the wall of the artery and lead to a massive bleed, the only upside to which is that it kills pretty painlessly and immediately.

Because mum is so unstable still, Fiona, the brilliant Macmillan nurse, is sorting out a low cost solicitor that they apparently use all the time at the hospital, to come out and help mum sort a will and a power of attorney, so no matter what happens and when, we're covered.

Mum is having good days and bad days, mood wise. Today has been pretty bad. She's been moved to a side room on the same ward and is convinced that she's dying and noone has told her. Which isn't true, as i) she isn't dying in the sense she means it - she's still critical but she was much more obviously about to die on Friday, or Saturday or Sunday, and ii) we have told her everything we know, and whether or not she remembers it, the doctors have too. The reason they've moved her is to make it easier for her to sleep and easier for us to be with her. She's also talking about having the cats put down because "let's face it, I'm not going home again." When I said that whether or not that was true we liked and would care for the cats she looked at me like I was lying, pulled a face and ignored me for a bit.

Like I said, she was having a bad day.

On top of all of this, I'm becoming increasingly aware that I am running out of mental health spoons. Thanks to Ben being so supportive I went into mum's illness with quite a stockpile built up, but I'm becoming aware that I'm nearly out. I'm getting tired out more easily, and getting irritable and bad tempered for no reason, and overreacting to small irritating situations.

This is not good, but I don't really know how to remedy it. Going home to Canterbury would probably help, but if time is very short, I don't want to spend anywhere else - I'm spending visiting hours (all of them) at the hospital, and should she die, I don't want to be in Kent. Being in Coulsdon is already quite far enough from the hospital.

When at mum's (as opposed to the Hospital), other stuff has to be done - Phil and I divide this between ourselves, and ignored this stuff for several days when the danger was most - but it takes time and spoons to do. However, if we were to ignore this stuff we'd end up with no clean clothes, cutlery/crockery or floor/workspace. On top of everything, I'm not sleeping very deeply because part of me is expecting the phone call.

I'm starting to feel the depression again, and the anxiety (though not badly yet, just I'm aware of them). And that's stressing me out even more. I don't want to backslide, but I don't know how to not.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (MASH - Hawkeye Trapper bromance)
Well the good news, that I truly did not expect to be writing over the weekend, is that mum is still with us, and in some ways far stronger that we would or could have dared to imagine. For example, she managed a shower yesterday. She is, however, still on what Fiona, the brilliant Macmillan nurse calls a knife edge. She's still not really stable.

We know a little more about what is going on now. Mum has an infection which is making it hard to control her blood sugar, and has been on IV antibiotics for it since she was admitted on Thursday. The antibiotics haven't knocked it out so they started her on a second antibiotic today. They don't know where the infection is though, so obviously that makes it hard to treat. There is a possibility, though I don't know how actually likely it is, that the infection is being caused by the tumour itself (that part of the tissue of the tumour has died and become necrotic - that is, it's rotting away in her head). As of now it is just a theory though.

I think I mentioned the arrhythmia before. It's Arterial Fibrilation, and it is at least under control at the moment.

In her current condition they would not be able to start radiotherapy, and until she is more stable they're certainly not talking about transferring her from St Georges to anywhere, even the Royal Marsden, and are even further away from discussing her discharge.

Mum is a little more awake at the moment than she was over the weekend, which, given how sick she was on Friday will probably not surprise anyone. She also gets tired very easily - just sitting up for 10 mins means she has to sleep for the next hour. The fact that she is more with it and even able to sit up is the silver lining. Here is the cloud.

The tumour symptoms have and are continuing to get much worse. There's a constant nasal discharge, and the numbness and weakness in her face is getting worse. She can barely bite or chew (which is the reason why the doctors are probably going to put in a feeding [NG] tube tomorrow), and when she drinks, most of the liquid comes out again, though because of the numbness she isn't aware of it. The deafness in her left ear is worse, and her right eye is bulging out more. We've been told that the biggest danger of mum dying imminently comes from the fact that the tumour is wrapped her carotid artery. Apparently this could weaken the wall of the artery and lead to a massive bleed, the only upside to which is that it kills pretty painlessly and immediately.

Because mum is so unstable still, Fiona, the brilliant Macmillan nurse, is sorting out a low cost solicitor that they apparently use all the time at the hospital, to come out and help mum sort a will and a power of attorney, so no matter what happens and when, we're covered.

Mum is having good days and bad days, mood wise. Today has been pretty bad. She's been moved to a side room on the same ward and is convinced that she's dying and noone has told her. Which isn't true, as i) she isn't dying in the sense she means it - she's still critical but she was much more obviously about to die on Friday, or Saturday or Sunday, and ii) we have told her everything we know, and whether or not she remembers it, the doctors have too. The reason they've moved her is to make it easier for her to sleep and easier for us to be with her. She's also talking about having the cats put down because "let's face it, I'm not going home again." When I said that whether or not that was true we liked and would care for the cats she looked at me like I was lying, pulled a face and ignored me for a bit.

Like I said, she was having a bad day.

On top of all of this, I'm becoming increasingly aware that I am running out of mental health spoons. Thanks to Ben being so supportive I went into mum's illness with quite a stockpile built up, but I'm becoming aware that I'm nearly out. I'm getting tired out more easily, and getting irritable and bad tempered for no reason, and overreacting to small irritating situations.

This is not good, but I don't really know how to remedy it. Going home to Canterbury would probably help, but if time is very short, I don't want to spend anywhere else - I'm spending visiting hours (all of them) at the hospital, and should she die, I don't want to be in Kent. Being in Coulsdon is already quite far enough from the hospital.

When at mum's (as opposed to the Hospital), other stuff has to be done - Phil and I divide this between ourselves, and ignored this stuff for several days when the danger was most - but it takes time and spoons to do. However, if we were to ignore this stuff we'd end up with no clean clothes, cutlery/crockery or floor/workspace. On top of everything, I'm not sleeping very deeply because part of me is expecting the phone call.

I'm starting to feel the depression again, and the anxiety (though not badly yet, just I'm aware of them). And that's stressing me out even more. I don't want to backslide, but I don't know how to not.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (MASH - Hawkeye Trapper bromance)
Well the good news, that I truly did not expect to be writing over the weekend, is that mum is still with us, and in some ways far stronger that we would or could have dared to imagine. For example, she managed a shower yesterday. She is, however, still on what Fiona, the brilliant Macmillan nurse calls a knife edge. She's still not really stable.

We know a little more about what is going on now. Mum has an infection which is making it hard to control her blood sugar, and has been on IV antibiotics for it since she was admitted on Thursday. The antibiotics haven't knocked it out so they started her on a second antibiotic today. They don't know where the infection is though, so obviously that makes it hard to treat. There is a possibility, though I don't know how actually likely it is, that the infection is being caused by the tumour itself (that part of the tissue of the tumour has died and become necrotic - that is, it's rotting away in her head). As of now it is just a theory though.

I think I mentioned the arrhythmia before. It's Arterial Fibrilation, and it is at least under control at the moment.

In her current condition they would not be able to start radiotherapy, and until she is more stable they're certainly not talking about transferring her from St Georges to anywhere, even the Royal Marsden, and are even further away from discussing her discharge.

Mum is a little more awake at the moment than she was over the weekend, which, given how sick she was on Friday will probably not surprise anyone. She also gets tired very easily - just sitting up for 10 mins means she has to sleep for the next hour. The fact that she is more with it and even able to sit up is the silver lining. Here is the cloud.

The tumour symptoms have and are continuing to get much worse. There's a constant nasal discharge, and the numbness and weakness in her face is getting worse. She can barely bite or chew (which is the reason why the doctors are probably going to put in a feeding [NG] tube tomorrow), and when she drinks, most of the liquid comes out again, though because of the numbness she isn't aware of it. The deafness in her left ear is worse, and her right eye is bulging out more. We've been told that the biggest danger of mum dying imminently comes from the fact that the tumour is wrapped her carotid artery. Apparently this could weaken the wall of the artery and lead to a massive bleed, the only upside to which is that it kills pretty painlessly and immediately.

Because mum is so unstable still, Fiona, the brilliant Macmillan nurse, is sorting out a low cost solicitor that they apparently use all the time at the hospital, to come out and help mum sort a will and a power of attorney, so no matter what happens and when, we're covered.

Mum is having good days and bad days, mood wise. Today has been pretty bad. She's been moved to a side room on the same ward and is convinced that she's dying and noone has told her. Which isn't true, as i) she isn't dying in the sense she means it - she's still critical but she was much more obviously about to die on Friday, or Saturday or Sunday, and ii) we have told her everything we know, and whether or not she remembers it, the doctors have too. The reason they've moved her is to make it easier for her to sleep and easier for us to be with her. She's also talking about having the cats put down because "let's face it, I'm not going home again." When I said that whether or not that was true we liked and would care for the cats she looked at me like I was lying, pulled a face and ignored me for a bit.

Like I said, she was having a bad day.

On top of all of this, I'm becoming increasingly aware that I am running out of mental health spoons. Thanks to Ben being so supportive I went into mum's illness with quite a stockpile built up, but I'm becoming aware that I'm nearly out. I'm getting tired out more easily, and getting irritable and bad tempered for no reason, and overreacting to small irritating situations.

This is not good, but I don't really know how to remedy it. Going home to Canterbury would probably help, but if time is very short, I don't want to spend anywhere else - I'm spending visiting hours (all of them) at the hospital, and should she die, I don't want to be in Kent. Being in Coulsdon is already quite far enough from the hospital.

When at mum's (as opposed to the Hospital), other stuff has to be done - Phil and I divide this between ourselves, and ignored this stuff for several days when the danger was most - but it takes time and spoons to do. However, if we were to ignore this stuff we'd end up with no clean clothes, cutlery/crockery or floor/workspace. On top of everything, I'm not sleeping very deeply because part of me is expecting the phone call.

I'm starting to feel the depression again, and the anxiety (though not badly yet, just I'm aware of them). And that's stressing me out even more. I don't want to backslide, but I don't know how to not.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (me - mummy and little lizzie)
Ben and I spent some time today sorting out some flowers and a balloon for mum's cubicle at the hospital, to make it a little more bright, having first checked that the ward allows flowers. We ended up getting a beautiful box of flowers from Mad Lillies in Banstead, which is where we got our wedding flowers from. That done, and with Phil back from work, we all headed up to Tooting to visit mum, getting to the hospital at about 5:15pm.

It was immediately clear that mum was worse than yesterday. They had her hooked up to a heart monitor, nasal oxygen on her and several different lines and things going in to her. She looked much weaker than yesterday, much sleepier, and she was having more nasty puss-y discharge from her nose than yesterday. Ben said hi and then went down to the cafe for a coffee - St Georges helpfully has an M&S food hall and cafe, which is a real bonus and all round fabulous idea - and Phil and I dumped our bags at the end of the bed, and then went through mum's post with her and read to her from BBC History magazine, which was all I had on me.

After a bit, one of the doctors came over and wanted to speak with me and Phil, so we dropped everything and went with her to a private room. A nurse got me a hot drink and really I should have known. That is never ever a good sign.

What the doctor had to say was incredibly hard for Phil and I to hear. What she wanted to do was tell us where we were up to today, and discuss with us a Do Not Resuscitate order.

She explained to us that while mum's blood sugar was much better (down to 11), she was much much worse than she had been 24 hours earlier. Mum's heart is getting very weak and mum herself is very tired. And she didn't mean that in a "she'll sleep and wake up refreshed" way, but in a "probably wanting to die" sort of way. And mum herself said later that she was very tired. Mum's resting heart rate is between 130 and 170bpm and the doctor thought it quite likely that at some point over the weekend it would stop. She also said that mum was in a lot of pain, and had been put on a morphine infusion earlier in the day to deal with the pain (previously she was on 30mg Codeine).

The hardest bit to hear was that she didn't think that mum's quality of life would get any better, even if the tumour does shrink a little bit (and the likelihood is that even if they can pull her through this, she will probably not be fit enough for radiotherapy), and she will continue to be in a lot of pain. She said that the consultants - Mr Mady, Mr Williamson and another (Mr Lee?) had met, and felt that the best and kindest thing would be not to resuscitate mum if her heart did stop. Phil and I were left to talk, and we called mum's brother and my aunt (dad's sister) and we all agreed that a DNR was the kindest thing that we could do. We (me and Phil) felt, and still feel, that to bring her back for more pain and suffering and poor quality of life is really just selfishness on our part. So we told the staff that we didn't want them to try and bring her back if her heart or breathing stop.

About 45 mins after the doctor had taken Phil and I aside, and when I finally could think about anything again, I found that my bag, that I'd stupidly dropped at the end of mum's bed earlier had gone missing. Phil's was still there. We searched the ward for it, and couldn't find it. The nursing staff were horrified and reported it to security, and I spent the next hour searching for my bag, reporting the theft and cancelling my cards. In the morning I need to call the DVLA.

There was nothing especially of value in there - just my notebooks (which I'm sad, especially as there were some untyped up stories) to lose) and my backpack (which I'm very sad to lose, especially given it had lots of keyrings I'd collected and things on it which made it an individual thing), and my purse, which had next to no actual money in it, just awkward things like cards and my driving licence in it. But the hour I spent having to report the loss and cancel the cards was an hour I couldn't spend with my critically ill mum, and if she dies tonight I really don't know how I could ever forgive the person who took it.

Mum's partner dropped by during the evening and we told him too. He was very emotional and gave back his key as he left. It was all pretty awful.

We ended up staying past the end of visiting hours, and the staff were very accommodating and left us be. We ended up telling mum and though she hadn't been spoken to explicitly (that she can remember, she's spent most of today pretty much asleep) she didn't seem at all surprised, or even terribly upset. We said that the DNR is ultimately her decision, as despite the sleepiness, her mind is still sharp. She said she agreed with our decision.

We told her how much we love her, and how proud we are of her, and how brilliant she's been and kissed her a lot. She said how much she loves us. We asked if she wanted us to stay and she said no.

So we came home. Via my aunties, who made us drinks and listened to us go through it logically. Ben drove home, which is good because I'm not sure I was capable.

Writing it all out now, it probably sounds a good deal more calm than it was. It involved much more intermittent crying from everyone (except mum) than I state here. Now I'm rather calmer. Still fairly near tears but oddly numb.

Today was awful. Really awful. Really really awful. And there's only a slim chance it will get better soon. Thank you to everyone who has sent thoughts and prayers. They're helping keep me afloat right now. More of the same please.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (me - mummy and little lizzie)
Ben and I spent some time today sorting out some flowers and a balloon for mum's cubicle at the hospital, to make it a little more bright, having first checked that the ward allows flowers. We ended up getting a beautiful box of flowers from Mad Lillies in Banstead, which is where we got our wedding flowers from. That done, and with Phil back from work, we all headed up to Tooting to visit mum, getting to the hospital at about 5:15pm.

It was immediately clear that mum was worse than yesterday. They had her hooked up to a heart monitor, nasal oxygen on her and several different lines and things going in to her. She looked much weaker than yesterday, much sleepier, and she was having more nasty puss-y discharge from her nose than yesterday. Ben said hi and then went down to the cafe for a coffee - St Georges helpfully has an M&S food hall and cafe, which is a real bonus and all round fabulous idea - and Phil and I dumped our bags at the end of the bed, and then went through mum's post with her and read to her from BBC History magazine, which was all I had on me.

After a bit, one of the doctors came over and wanted to speak with me and Phil, so we dropped everything and went with her to a private room. A nurse got me a hot drink and really I should have known. That is never ever a good sign.

What the doctor had to say was incredibly hard for Phil and I to hear. What she wanted to do was tell us where we were up to today, and discuss with us a Do Not Resuscitate order.

She explained to us that while mum's blood sugar was much better (down to 11), she was much much worse than she had been 24 hours earlier. Mum's heart is getting very weak and mum herself is very tired. And she didn't mean that in a "she'll sleep and wake up refreshed" way, but in a "probably wanting to die" sort of way. And mum herself said later that she was very tired. Mum's resting heart rate is between 130 and 170bpm and the doctor thought it quite likely that at some point over the weekend it would stop. She also said that mum was in a lot of pain, and had been put on a morphine infusion earlier in the day to deal with the pain (previously she was on 30mg Codeine).

The hardest bit to hear was that she didn't think that mum's quality of life would get any better, even if the tumour does shrink a little bit (and the likelihood is that even if they can pull her through this, she will probably not be fit enough for radiotherapy), and she will continue to be in a lot of pain. She said that the consultants - Mr Mady, Mr Williamson and another (Mr Lee?) had met, and felt that the best and kindest thing would be not to resuscitate mum if her heart did stop. Phil and I were left to talk, and we called mum's brother and my aunt (dad's sister) and we all agreed that a DNR was the kindest thing that we could do. We (me and Phil) felt, and still feel, that to bring her back for more pain and suffering and poor quality of life is really just selfishness on our part. So we told the staff that we didn't want them to try and bring her back if her heart or breathing stop.

About 45 mins after the doctor had taken Phil and I aside, and when I finally could think about anything again, I found that my bag, that I'd stupidly dropped at the end of mum's bed earlier had gone missing. Phil's was still there. We searched the ward for it, and couldn't find it. The nursing staff were horrified and reported it to security, and I spent the next hour searching for my bag, reporting the theft and cancelling my cards. In the morning I need to call the DVLA.

There was nothing especially of value in there - just my notebooks (which I'm sad, especially as there were some untyped up stories) to lose) and my backpack (which I'm very sad to lose, especially given it had lots of keyrings I'd collected and things on it which made it an individual thing), and my purse, which had next to no actual money in it, just awkward things like cards and my driving licence in it. But the hour I spent having to report the loss and cancel the cards was an hour I couldn't spend with my critically ill mum, and if she dies tonight I really don't know how I could ever forgive the person who took it.

Mum's partner dropped by during the evening and we told him too. He was very emotional and gave back his key as he left. It was all pretty awful.

We ended up staying past the end of visiting hours, and the staff were very accommodating and left us be. We ended up telling mum and though she hadn't been spoken to explicitly (that she can remember, she's spent most of today pretty much asleep) she didn't seem at all surprised, or even terribly upset. We said that the DNR is ultimately her decision, as despite the sleepiness, her mind is still sharp. She said she agreed with our decision.

We told her how much we love her, and how proud we are of her, and how brilliant she's been and kissed her a lot. She said how much she loves us. We asked if she wanted us to stay and she said no.

So we came home. Via my aunties, who made us drinks and listened to us go through it logically. Ben drove home, which is good because I'm not sure I was capable.

Writing it all out now, it probably sounds a good deal more calm than it was. It involved much more intermittent crying from everyone (except mum) than I state here. Now I'm rather calmer. Still fairly near tears but oddly numb.

Today was awful. Really awful. Really really awful. And there's only a slim chance it will get better soon. Thank you to everyone who has sent thoughts and prayers. They're helping keep me afloat right now. More of the same please.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (me - mummy and little lizzie)
Ben and I spent some time today sorting out some flowers and a balloon for mum's cubicle at the hospital, to make it a little more bright, having first checked that the ward allows flowers. We ended up getting a beautiful box of flowers from Mad Lillies in Banstead, which is where we got our wedding flowers from. That done, and with Phil back from work, we all headed up to Tooting to visit mum, getting to the hospital at about 5:15pm.

It was immediately clear that mum was worse than yesterday. They had her hooked up to a heart monitor, nasal oxygen on her and several different lines and things going in to her. She looked much weaker than yesterday, much sleepier, and she was having more nasty puss-y discharge from her nose than yesterday. Ben said hi and then went down to the cafe for a coffee - St Georges helpfully has an M&S food hall and cafe, which is a real bonus and all round fabulous idea - and Phil and I dumped our bags at the end of the bed, and then went through mum's post with her and read to her from BBC History magazine, which was all I had on me.

After a bit, one of the doctors came over and wanted to speak with me and Phil, so we dropped everything and went with her to a private room. A nurse got me a hot drink and really I should have known. That is never ever a good sign.

What the doctor had to say was incredibly hard for Phil and I to hear. What she wanted to do was tell us where we were up to today, and discuss with us a Do Not Resuscitate order.

She explained to us that while mum's blood sugar was much better (down to 11), she was much much worse than she had been 24 hours earlier. Mum's heart is getting very weak and mum herself is very tired. And she didn't mean that in a "she'll sleep and wake up refreshed" way, but in a "probably wanting to die" sort of way. And mum herself said later that she was very tired. Mum's resting heart rate is between 130 and 170bpm and the doctor thought it quite likely that at some point over the weekend it would stop. She also said that mum was in a lot of pain, and had been put on a morphine infusion earlier in the day to deal with the pain (previously she was on 30mg Codeine).

The hardest bit to hear was that she didn't think that mum's quality of life would get any better, even if the tumour does shrink a little bit (and the likelihood is that even if they can pull her through this, she will probably not be fit enough for radiotherapy), and she will continue to be in a lot of pain. She said that the consultants - Mr Mady, Mr Williamson and another (Mr Lee?) had met, and felt that the best and kindest thing would be not to resuscitate mum if her heart did stop. Phil and I were left to talk, and we called mum's brother and my aunt (dad's sister) and we all agreed that a DNR was the kindest thing that we could do. We (me and Phil) felt, and still feel, that to bring her back for more pain and suffering and poor quality of life is really just selfishness on our part. So we told the staff that we didn't want them to try and bring her back if her heart or breathing stop.

About 45 mins after the doctor had taken Phil and I aside, and when I finally could think about anything again, I found that my bag, that I'd stupidly dropped at the end of mum's bed earlier had gone missing. Phil's was still there. We searched the ward for it, and couldn't find it. The nursing staff were horrified and reported it to security, and I spent the next hour searching for my bag, reporting the theft and cancelling my cards. In the morning I need to call the DVLA.

There was nothing especially of value in there - just my notebooks (which I'm sad, especially as there were some untyped up stories) to lose) and my backpack (which I'm very sad to lose, especially given it had lots of keyrings I'd collected and things on it which made it an individual thing), and my purse, which had next to no actual money in it, just awkward things like cards and my driving licence in it. But the hour I spent having to report the loss and cancel the cards was an hour I couldn't spend with my critically ill mum, and if she dies tonight I really don't know how I could ever forgive the person who took it.

Mum's partner dropped by during the evening and we told him too. He was very emotional and gave back his key as he left. It was all pretty awful.

We ended up staying past the end of visiting hours, and the staff were very accommodating and left us be. We ended up telling mum and though she hadn't been spoken to explicitly (that she can remember, she's spent most of today pretty much asleep) she didn't seem at all surprised, or even terribly upset. We said that the DNR is ultimately her decision, as despite the sleepiness, her mind is still sharp. She said she agreed with our decision.

We told her how much we love her, and how proud we are of her, and how brilliant she's been and kissed her a lot. She said how much she loves us. We asked if she wanted us to stay and she said no.

So we came home. Via my aunties, who made us drinks and listened to us go through it logically. Ben drove home, which is good because I'm not sure I was capable.

Writing it all out now, it probably sounds a good deal more calm than it was. It involved much more intermittent crying from everyone (except mum) than I state here. Now I'm rather calmer. Still fairly near tears but oddly numb.

Today was awful. Really awful. Really really awful. And there's only a slim chance it will get better soon. Thank you to everyone who has sent thoughts and prayers. They're helping keep me afloat right now. More of the same please.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (Rocks fall)
We went to St Georges ENT clinic again today, in the absence of any news in the meantime, and the news we got from Mr Williamson today is not good. Looking at it objectively, I suppose it's not the worst news we could have had - mum won't die tomorrow - but it pretty much extinguishes all hope, and from that point of view it doesn't get much worse.

The pathologists at St Georges were unable to make a diagnosis of mum's tumour from the samples taken at biopsy and so they've sent it to a Professor Fisher at the Royal Marsden (think he's the guy at the bottom here, which makes him sound like he's pretty much a world expert) who is pretty much the last chance for identifying the tumour, and it's a pretty slim chance. It's likely that we will never find out what the tumour is.

If they can't identify the tumour then they won't be able to offer Chemotherapy, as different tumours react in different ways to different drugs, and as I mentioned before, surgery is out because the tumour is wrapped around mum's Carotid artery. Mr Williamson pretty much said today that there is a very good chance that the cancer/tumour is terminal, and that the most that they will be able to do for mum is palliative radiotherapy.

Failing any news before next Thursday we'll be seeing him again for a confirmation that there's not much they can do. After that (or before, depending on when they know for sure) they'll refer mum to the Royal Marsden at Sutton for the radiotherapy.

In the meantime, mum's been given five days worth of steroids in the hope that they can quell some of the worst symptoms by reducing the swelling and inflammation that's being caused by the tumour. The downside to this is that the steriods will mess with mum's diabetes management and in the worst case scenareo she will end up in hospital for constant monitoring and possibly be on an insulin drip. The steriods are at a low dose to try and ward off problems, but that means there's less chance of them having an effect. The Macmillan nurse (Fiona) at St Georges is contacting the diabetic nurse at mum's GP to arrange for close-ish monitoring, though I don't know how we'll manage over the weekend. Hopefully some more answers on that tomorrow.

I don't know yet if I'm going home this weekend. I don't want to be in Canterbury if mum does end up in hospital because of the steriod/diabetes mix. Mostly right now I'm trying to deal with the fact that the diagnosis is almost certainly terminal. I feel like I did back at the cancer diagnosis. I'm swinging wildly between numb-Lizzie, planning-Lizzie and sobbing-her-heart-out-Lizzie. Ben's taken tomorrow off work and will be arriving tonight, which will be good as I feel like I need someone not so emotionally involved to lean on. Phil just came home and we hugged like we haven't hugged in ages.

Feel awful.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (Rocks fall)
We went to St Georges ENT clinic again today, in the absence of any news in the meantime, and the news we got from Mr Williamson today is not good. Looking at it objectively, I suppose it's not the worst news we could have had - mum won't die tomorrow - but it pretty much extinguishes all hope, and from that point of view it doesn't get much worse.

The pathologists at St Georges were unable to make a diagnosis of mum's tumour from the samples taken at biopsy and so they've sent it to a Professor Fisher at the Royal Marsden (think he's the guy at the bottom here, which makes him sound like he's pretty much a world expert) who is pretty much the last chance for identifying the tumour, and it's a pretty slim chance. It's likely that we will never find out what the tumour is.

If they can't identify the tumour then they won't be able to offer Chemotherapy, as different tumours react in different ways to different drugs, and as I mentioned before, surgery is out because the tumour is wrapped around mum's Carotid artery. Mr Williamson pretty much said today that there is a very good chance that the cancer/tumour is terminal, and that the most that they will be able to do for mum is palliative radiotherapy.

Failing any news before next Thursday we'll be seeing him again for a confirmation that there's not much they can do. After that (or before, depending on when they know for sure) they'll refer mum to the Royal Marsden at Sutton for the radiotherapy.

In the meantime, mum's been given five days worth of steroids in the hope that they can quell some of the worst symptoms by reducing the swelling and inflammation that's being caused by the tumour. The downside to this is that the steriods will mess with mum's diabetes management and in the worst case scenareo she will end up in hospital for constant monitoring and possibly be on an insulin drip. The steriods are at a low dose to try and ward off problems, but that means there's less chance of them having an effect. The Macmillan nurse (Fiona) at St Georges is contacting the diabetic nurse at mum's GP to arrange for close-ish monitoring, though I don't know how we'll manage over the weekend. Hopefully some more answers on that tomorrow.

I don't know yet if I'm going home this weekend. I don't want to be in Canterbury if mum does end up in hospital because of the steriod/diabetes mix. Mostly right now I'm trying to deal with the fact that the diagnosis is almost certainly terminal. I feel like I did back at the cancer diagnosis. I'm swinging wildly between numb-Lizzie, planning-Lizzie and sobbing-her-heart-out-Lizzie. Ben's taken tomorrow off work and will be arriving tonight, which will be good as I feel like I need someone not so emotionally involved to lean on. Phil just came home and we hugged like we haven't hugged in ages.

Feel awful.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (Rocks fall)
We went to St Georges ENT clinic again today, in the absence of any news in the meantime, and the news we got from Mr Williamson today is not good. Looking at it objectively, I suppose it's not the worst news we could have had - mum won't die tomorrow - but it pretty much extinguishes all hope, and from that point of view it doesn't get much worse.

The pathologists at St Georges were unable to make a diagnosis of mum's tumour from the samples taken at biopsy and so they've sent it to a Professor Fisher at the Royal Marsden (think he's the guy at the bottom here, which makes him sound like he's pretty much a world expert) who is pretty much the last chance for identifying the tumour, and it's a pretty slim chance. It's likely that we will never find out what the tumour is.

If they can't identify the tumour then they won't be able to offer Chemotherapy, as different tumours react in different ways to different drugs, and as I mentioned before, surgery is out because the tumour is wrapped around mum's Carotid artery. Mr Williamson pretty much said today that there is a very good chance that the cancer/tumour is terminal, and that the most that they will be able to do for mum is palliative radiotherapy.

Failing any news before next Thursday we'll be seeing him again for a confirmation that there's not much they can do. After that (or before, depending on when they know for sure) they'll refer mum to the Royal Marsden at Sutton for the radiotherapy.

In the meantime, mum's been given five days worth of steroids in the hope that they can quell some of the worst symptoms by reducing the swelling and inflammation that's being caused by the tumour. The downside to this is that the steriods will mess with mum's diabetes management and in the worst case scenareo she will end up in hospital for constant monitoring and possibly be on an insulin drip. The steriods are at a low dose to try and ward off problems, but that means there's less chance of them having an effect. The Macmillan nurse (Fiona) at St Georges is contacting the diabetic nurse at mum's GP to arrange for close-ish monitoring, though I don't know how we'll manage over the weekend. Hopefully some more answers on that tomorrow.

I don't know yet if I'm going home this weekend. I don't want to be in Canterbury if mum does end up in hospital because of the steriod/diabetes mix. Mostly right now I'm trying to deal with the fact that the diagnosis is almost certainly terminal. I feel like I did back at the cancer diagnosis. I'm swinging wildly between numb-Lizzie, planning-Lizzie and sobbing-her-heart-out-Lizzie. Ben's taken tomorrow off work and will be arriving tonight, which will be good as I feel like I need someone not so emotionally involved to lean on. Phil just came home and we hugged like we haven't hugged in ages.

Feel awful.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (cartoon penguins stealing sanity)
First things first, Phil's first driving lesson sounds like it went ok. Most of what he describes pretty much sums up my first lesson, so I'm not overly worried. He's on mum's insurance now, so I'll be taking him out (in her car) for some practicing Real Soon Now.

Apologies if you have read this somewhere else. Mum copy pasted an email I sent out about this to her friends list on LJ and facebook, so I will be repeating a lot of it. It's rather long, please bare bear stay with me.

rambling )

We were seen quickly by a consultant Mr Williamson who was utterly lovely and spent a good half hour with us, telling us actually very little in terms of hard fact, but making us feel better anyway )

Each hospital has its downsides.

In which I wibble prematurely about the logistics of various hospitals )

So anyway, the registrar is chasing down mum's results and then we should have a plan. A follow up appointment has been booked for the same clinic next week, though tomorrow (Friday) will tell us whether or not we'll make it to that appointment. Basically, when they get the results tomorrow, if it turns out to be one of a list of uber bad (as opposed to just really bad) (he didn't tell us what was on that list) then we'll get a call in the morning telling us to get to a hospital (the Marsden or St Georges) ASAP to start treatment immediately... which is pretty damn scary to contemplate. If that happens then we won't need to make the appointment next Thursday.

Long brain dump so far, sorry. There's still some to go.

Macmillan nurse and dietician )

Came back, and in between making a nusance of myself by making mum eat every two hours, I've made all the phonecalls to tell people how she is, written emails for other people, shopped and cooked. Now I'm very tired and grumpy, and still rather worried actually. Mum's feeling a bit better today in that she was convinced they'd tell her she would die tomorrow, which they didn't. Not in the physical sense though, as she's been hugely sick tonight (she thinks it's caused by the new painkillers, which were subbed for the co-codomol which was giving her nightmares). Hopefully we'll get the GP (who we're seeing tomorrow) to give us yet another prescription for painkillers and we can find something that works without making mum too sleepy or sick. And hopefully she got some nutrition out of the food I made her eat before she threw it all up again.

Up early for GP tomorrow, and then if there's no urgent "get here now" call by lunchtime I'll meander back to Canterbury for two days of R&R (and things that actually need to be done) before coming back here again.

Feeling pretty low and tired right now. Hopefully some sleep and time in Canterbury will help with that. And if we get the urgent call, then I'll be seeing ben regardless and that may help too.

ETA: I appear to be addicted to parentheses. Wonder if I should be concerned.

ETA2: Oops. Entry 1700 words. I've written actual academic essays shorter.

ETA3: Have a cold. Most unimpressed.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (cartoon penguins stealing sanity)
First things first, Phil's first driving lesson sounds like it went ok. Most of what he describes pretty much sums up my first lesson, so I'm not overly worried. He's on mum's insurance now, so I'll be taking him out (in her car) for some practicing Real Soon Now.

Apologies if you have read this somewhere else. Mum copy pasted an email I sent out about this to her friends list on LJ and facebook, so I will be repeating a lot of it. It's rather long, please bare bear stay with me.

rambling )

We were seen quickly by a consultant Mr Williamson who was utterly lovely and spent a good half hour with us, telling us actually very little in terms of hard fact, but making us feel better anyway )

Each hospital has its downsides.

In which I wibble prematurely about the logistics of various hospitals )

So anyway, the registrar is chasing down mum's results and then we should have a plan. A follow up appointment has been booked for the same clinic next week, though tomorrow (Friday) will tell us whether or not we'll make it to that appointment. Basically, when they get the results tomorrow, if it turns out to be one of a list of uber bad (as opposed to just really bad) (he didn't tell us what was on that list) then we'll get a call in the morning telling us to get to a hospital (the Marsden or St Georges) ASAP to start treatment immediately... which is pretty damn scary to contemplate. If that happens then we won't need to make the appointment next Thursday.

Long brain dump so far, sorry. There's still some to go.

Macmillan nurse and dietician )

Came back, and in between making a nusance of myself by making mum eat every two hours, I've made all the phonecalls to tell people how she is, written emails for other people, shopped and cooked. Now I'm very tired and grumpy, and still rather worried actually. Mum's feeling a bit better today in that she was convinced they'd tell her she would die tomorrow, which they didn't. Not in the physical sense though, as she's been hugely sick tonight (she thinks it's caused by the new painkillers, which were subbed for the co-codomol which was giving her nightmares). Hopefully we'll get the GP (who we're seeing tomorrow) to give us yet another prescription for painkillers and we can find something that works without making mum too sleepy or sick. And hopefully she got some nutrition out of the food I made her eat before she threw it all up again.

Up early for GP tomorrow, and then if there's no urgent "get here now" call by lunchtime I'll meander back to Canterbury for two days of R&R (and things that actually need to be done) before coming back here again.

Feeling pretty low and tired right now. Hopefully some sleep and time in Canterbury will help with that. And if we get the urgent call, then I'll be seeing ben regardless and that may help too.

ETA: I appear to be addicted to parentheses. Wonder if I should be concerned.

ETA2: Oops. Entry 1700 words. I've written actual academic essays shorter.

ETA3: Have a cold. Most unimpressed.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (cartoon penguins stealing sanity)
First things first, Phil's first driving lesson sounds like it went ok. Most of what he describes pretty much sums up my first lesson, so I'm not overly worried. He's on mum's insurance now, so I'll be taking him out (in her car) for some practicing Real Soon Now.

Apologies if you have read this somewhere else. Mum copy pasted an email I sent out about this to her friends list on LJ and facebook, so I will be repeating a lot of it. It's rather long, please bare bear stay with me.

rambling )

We were seen quickly by a consultant Mr Williamson who was utterly lovely and spent a good half hour with us, telling us actually very little in terms of hard fact, but making us feel better anyway )

Each hospital has its downsides.

In which I wibble prematurely about the logistics of various hospitals )

So anyway, the registrar is chasing down mum's results and then we should have a plan. A follow up appointment has been booked for the same clinic next week, though tomorrow (Friday) will tell us whether or not we'll make it to that appointment. Basically, when they get the results tomorrow, if it turns out to be one of a list of uber bad (as opposed to just really bad) (he didn't tell us what was on that list) then we'll get a call in the morning telling us to get to a hospital (the Marsden or St Georges) ASAP to start treatment immediately... which is pretty damn scary to contemplate. If that happens then we won't need to make the appointment next Thursday.

Long brain dump so far, sorry. There's still some to go.

Macmillan nurse and dietician )

Came back, and in between making a nusance of myself by making mum eat every two hours, I've made all the phonecalls to tell people how she is, written emails for other people, shopped and cooked. Now I'm very tired and grumpy, and still rather worried actually. Mum's feeling a bit better today in that she was convinced they'd tell her she would die tomorrow, which they didn't. Not in the physical sense though, as she's been hugely sick tonight (she thinks it's caused by the new painkillers, which were subbed for the co-codomol which was giving her nightmares). Hopefully we'll get the GP (who we're seeing tomorrow) to give us yet another prescription for painkillers and we can find something that works without making mum too sleepy or sick. And hopefully she got some nutrition out of the food I made her eat before she threw it all up again.

Up early for GP tomorrow, and then if there's no urgent "get here now" call by lunchtime I'll meander back to Canterbury for two days of R&R (and things that actually need to be done) before coming back here again.

Feeling pretty low and tired right now. Hopefully some sleep and time in Canterbury will help with that. And if we get the urgent call, then I'll be seeing ben regardless and that may help too.

ETA: I appear to be addicted to parentheses. Wonder if I should be concerned.

ETA2: Oops. Entry 1700 words. I've written actual academic essays shorter.

ETA3: Have a cold. Most unimpressed.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - gerbil - stan eating)
I slept the clock around last night. I'd gone to bed at 1am on Sunday night and got up at 5:30 and was clearly shattered by the end of the day as I fell asleep at about 10pm and woke up at around 10am, feeling much better, though from there I've become progressively fed up, grumpy and down. I suppose it's just one of those days.

Mum was released from the Day Surgery Unit at around 2 or 3pm yesterday feeling "as if [she] could run a mile". I suppose that's uber hospital drugs for you. The doctor took several samples of the tumour and while he was there he cleared out a bunch of gunk (mostly pus as I understand it) from mum's sinuses, so she feels much less congested at least, though it hasn't helped with any of the major tumour symptoms (the numbness and muscle weakness in her face, eye, nose, mouth; difficulty eating; deafness in one ear; shaking [a newish symptom] etc), it has slowed the perma-nosebleed to almost nothing, which I think is a great relief to us. Mr Tesco delivered some supplies with the groceries (namely micropore and gauze) so if it starts again we can rig up our own nose sling in imitation of the one they rigged up for mum yesterday at the hospital.

Results of the biopsy are due Thursday and my aunt (who has worked at St Georges and still volunteers there) told me yesterday that she was arranging everything. She's scouted out the best dropping off place, is arranging for a wheelchair to meet us there in case mum's unsteady on her feet (she's needed a wheelchair the last two times we've been to hospital) and tracked down the medical receptionist/admin type person who deals with the specific clinic and they're making sure that everything that is needed is there as a favour to my aunt. I guess knowing someone really can make a difference, and let's be frank - having a medical receptionist/secretary/admin person on your side can make a real difference.

While mum was feeling good I managed to have a couple of conversations with her about stuff that needed to be done, people to see and phone calls to make. It was apparently the perfect time as she felt like listening and was also feeling pessmistic about her prognosis, which while not ideal, meant that she gave some of my ideas the thought they at least deserved.

Got a response from Careline (attached to Diabetes UK) today, who I contacted yesterday with a panicked enquiry about the stupid diabetic nurses' comments that all weight loss was good when it came to type 2. Careline basically agreed with Macmillan (and directed me to them) about how uncontrolled, cancer related weight loss is bad and mum should see about getting referred to a proper, specialist dietician as a priority. It's been added to a list of things to ask her GP about when she next sees him (along with asking for different/better anti-emetics as the ones she has don't seem to work well and make her very sleepy). Take that stupid diabetes nurse!

As I mentioned I seem to have spent a good deal of this afternoon getting wound up with various things and increasingly fed up. Not entirely sure why everything is getting to me today, but it's not helpful. At one point I had a long list of things I was annoyed and fed up about. Thankfully reeling the list off to [livejournal.com profile] benc over the phone and a lesser list to [livejournal.com profile] red_pill in person helped a little.

Pondering going home (Canterbury) on Thursday night, but it all depends on what happens on Thursday's ENT appointment. I'm finding it difficult to see past that at the moment, which I suppose (looking at it objectively) isn't helping my mood much.

Phil's first driving lesson tomorrow, which is rather scary. Coulsdon and Wallington, you have been warned. Stay off the roads :P

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - gerbil - stan eating)
I slept the clock around last night. I'd gone to bed at 1am on Sunday night and got up at 5:30 and was clearly shattered by the end of the day as I fell asleep at about 10pm and woke up at around 10am, feeling much better, though from there I've become progressively fed up, grumpy and down. I suppose it's just one of those days.

Mum was released from the Day Surgery Unit at around 2 or 3pm yesterday feeling "as if [she] could run a mile". I suppose that's uber hospital drugs for you. The doctor took several samples of the tumour and while he was there he cleared out a bunch of gunk (mostly pus as I understand it) from mum's sinuses, so she feels much less congested at least, though it hasn't helped with any of the major tumour symptoms (the numbness and muscle weakness in her face, eye, nose, mouth; difficulty eating; deafness in one ear; shaking [a newish symptom] etc), it has slowed the perma-nosebleed to almost nothing, which I think is a great relief to us. Mr Tesco delivered some supplies with the groceries (namely micropore and gauze) so if it starts again we can rig up our own nose sling in imitation of the one they rigged up for mum yesterday at the hospital.

Results of the biopsy are due Thursday and my aunt (who has worked at St Georges and still volunteers there) told me yesterday that she was arranging everything. She's scouted out the best dropping off place, is arranging for a wheelchair to meet us there in case mum's unsteady on her feet (she's needed a wheelchair the last two times we've been to hospital) and tracked down the medical receptionist/admin type person who deals with the specific clinic and they're making sure that everything that is needed is there as a favour to my aunt. I guess knowing someone really can make a difference, and let's be frank - having a medical receptionist/secretary/admin person on your side can make a real difference.

While mum was feeling good I managed to have a couple of conversations with her about stuff that needed to be done, people to see and phone calls to make. It was apparently the perfect time as she felt like listening and was also feeling pessmistic about her prognosis, which while not ideal, meant that she gave some of my ideas the thought they at least deserved.

Got a response from Careline (attached to Diabetes UK) today, who I contacted yesterday with a panicked enquiry about the stupid diabetic nurses' comments that all weight loss was good when it came to type 2. Careline basically agreed with Macmillan (and directed me to them) about how uncontrolled, cancer related weight loss is bad and mum should see about getting referred to a proper, specialist dietician as a priority. It's been added to a list of things to ask her GP about when she next sees him (along with asking for different/better anti-emetics as the ones she has don't seem to work well and make her very sleepy). Take that stupid diabetes nurse!

As I mentioned I seem to have spent a good deal of this afternoon getting wound up with various things and increasingly fed up. Not entirely sure why everything is getting to me today, but it's not helpful. At one point I had a long list of things I was annoyed and fed up about. Thankfully reeling the list off to [livejournal.com profile] benc over the phone and a lesser list to [livejournal.com profile] red_pill in person helped a little.

Pondering going home (Canterbury) on Thursday night, but it all depends on what happens on Thursday's ENT appointment. I'm finding it difficult to see past that at the moment, which I suppose (looking at it objectively) isn't helping my mood much.

Phil's first driving lesson tomorrow, which is rather scary. Coulsdon and Wallington, you have been warned. Stay off the roads :P

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - gerbil - stan eating)
I slept the clock around last night. I'd gone to bed at 1am on Sunday night and got up at 5:30 and was clearly shattered by the end of the day as I fell asleep at about 10pm and woke up at around 10am, feeling much better, though from there I've become progressively fed up, grumpy and down. I suppose it's just one of those days.

Mum was released from the Day Surgery Unit at around 2 or 3pm yesterday feeling "as if [she] could run a mile". I suppose that's uber hospital drugs for you. The doctor took several samples of the tumour and while he was there he cleared out a bunch of gunk (mostly pus as I understand it) from mum's sinuses, so she feels much less congested at least, though it hasn't helped with any of the major tumour symptoms (the numbness and muscle weakness in her face, eye, nose, mouth; difficulty eating; deafness in one ear; shaking [a newish symptom] etc), it has slowed the perma-nosebleed to almost nothing, which I think is a great relief to us. Mr Tesco delivered some supplies with the groceries (namely micropore and gauze) so if it starts again we can rig up our own nose sling in imitation of the one they rigged up for mum yesterday at the hospital.

Results of the biopsy are due Thursday and my aunt (who has worked at St Georges and still volunteers there) told me yesterday that she was arranging everything. She's scouted out the best dropping off place, is arranging for a wheelchair to meet us there in case mum's unsteady on her feet (she's needed a wheelchair the last two times we've been to hospital) and tracked down the medical receptionist/admin type person who deals with the specific clinic and they're making sure that everything that is needed is there as a favour to my aunt. I guess knowing someone really can make a difference, and let's be frank - having a medical receptionist/secretary/admin person on your side can make a real difference.

While mum was feeling good I managed to have a couple of conversations with her about stuff that needed to be done, people to see and phone calls to make. It was apparently the perfect time as she felt like listening and was also feeling pessmistic about her prognosis, which while not ideal, meant that she gave some of my ideas the thought they at least deserved.

Got a response from Careline (attached to Diabetes UK) today, who I contacted yesterday with a panicked enquiry about the stupid diabetic nurses' comments that all weight loss was good when it came to type 2. Careline basically agreed with Macmillan (and directed me to them) about how uncontrolled, cancer related weight loss is bad and mum should see about getting referred to a proper, specialist dietician as a priority. It's been added to a list of things to ask her GP about when she next sees him (along with asking for different/better anti-emetics as the ones she has don't seem to work well and make her very sleepy). Take that stupid diabetes nurse!

As I mentioned I seem to have spent a good deal of this afternoon getting wound up with various things and increasingly fed up. Not entirely sure why everything is getting to me today, but it's not helpful. At one point I had a long list of things I was annoyed and fed up about. Thankfully reeling the list off to [livejournal.com profile] benc over the phone and a lesser list to [livejournal.com profile] red_pill in person helped a little.

Pondering going home (Canterbury) on Thursday night, but it all depends on what happens on Thursday's ENT appointment. I'm finding it difficult to see past that at the moment, which I suppose (looking at it objectively) isn't helping my mood much.

Phil's first driving lesson tomorrow, which is rather scary. Coulsdon and Wallington, you have been warned. Stay off the roads :P

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (Stargate SG1 Jack O'Neill (two l's ;)))
Currently hiding away in a Starbucks in Croydon while mum is having the biopsy done at the day surgery unit. I left her at about 9am when they took her through to pre-op, which was further than I was allowed to go, though apparently they didn't think she would actually be done until about 11ish.

Taking anti sickness pills didn't seem to work as this morning mum was sick on arriving at the hospital, though thankfully into the bowl I've been carring in the car rather than getting it on the car. Ended up taking her up to the DSU in a wheelchair though, as it left her very weak. Despite telling staff on Friday, and reminding them numerous times this morning that mum is mostly deaf in one ear now and telling them which side to speak to, they kept talking to her on her deaf side, with one nurse whispering her questions into that ear and then wondering why mum didn't respond. Gah.

They're going to use two anaesthetists, which worried me (and I think mum too - she said she wondered if they thought there was another tumour in her throat), though people on irc tell me it's actually quite usual, so I'm a bit more chilled than I was when I left her.

Found out today that the pretty useless diabetic nurse who I was annoyed at anyway told mum last week that all weight loss was good, which left me quite grrrry. It came up because I noticed when doing up mum's hospital gown that it was much looser than last time she had a biopsy. Last time it was fairly tight at the top on the loosest tie they had there, and didn't do up at the back. This time it was loose even on the tightest tie they had there and left no gap at the back. It was a really obvious sign to me of the speed at which she is losing weight at the moment, which is why I keep quietly and not so quietly wibbling about it.

I ended up calling Macmillan (thankfully calls to them are free on major mobile networks) when I got out to the car and wibbled at a cancer nurse there for half an hour. She said that while weight loss may be good from a diabetes pov "this (cancer/not eating/not keeping stuff down) is not how she should be losing weight" and agreed that she probably needs more calories than she's getting/keeping down. The Macmillan lady said I should push for mum to see a nutritionist, though she said that someone would probably refer mum anyway at some point. She also said to be realistic (because of mum's mouth problems she can't eat much veg, or fruit [down to soft fruits like bananas and raspberries, even strawberries are now too hard]) that mum wasn't going to get her five a day and I shouldn't worry about that too much, but to get her to eat what fruit and veg she could. She also said that I should give mum high fat (i.e. regular, rather than diet) food, and aim to keep the sugar in the food down, which sounds like good advice as far as getting calories into her but without messing up her blood sugar too much. At least, I hope it's good advice. It sounded it. Depending on what happens this week I'll try to get mum to her GP and explain (or get her to explain) I'm concerned about mum's eating and weight loss. Hopefully he'll be less blinkered by "losing weight good for type 2 diabetes" :/

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (Stargate SG1 Jack O'Neill (two l's ;)))
Currently hiding away in a Starbucks in Croydon while mum is having the biopsy done at the day surgery unit. I left her at about 9am when they took her through to pre-op, which was further than I was allowed to go, though apparently they didn't think she would actually be done until about 11ish.

Taking anti sickness pills didn't seem to work as this morning mum was sick on arriving at the hospital, though thankfully into the bowl I've been carring in the car rather than getting it on the car. Ended up taking her up to the DSU in a wheelchair though, as it left her very weak. Despite telling staff on Friday, and reminding them numerous times this morning that mum is mostly deaf in one ear now and telling them which side to speak to, they kept talking to her on her deaf side, with one nurse whispering her questions into that ear and then wondering why mum didn't respond. Gah.

They're going to use two anaesthetists, which worried me (and I think mum too - she said she wondered if they thought there was another tumour in her throat), though people on irc tell me it's actually quite usual, so I'm a bit more chilled than I was when I left her.

Found out today that the pretty useless diabetic nurse who I was annoyed at anyway told mum last week that all weight loss was good, which left me quite grrrry. It came up because I noticed when doing up mum's hospital gown that it was much looser than last time she had a biopsy. Last time it was fairly tight at the top on the loosest tie they had there, and didn't do up at the back. This time it was loose even on the tightest tie they had there and left no gap at the back. It was a really obvious sign to me of the speed at which she is losing weight at the moment, which is why I keep quietly and not so quietly wibbling about it.

I ended up calling Macmillan (thankfully calls to them are free on major mobile networks) when I got out to the car and wibbled at a cancer nurse there for half an hour. She said that while weight loss may be good from a diabetes pov "this (cancer/not eating/not keeping stuff down) is not how she should be losing weight" and agreed that she probably needs more calories than she's getting/keeping down. The Macmillan lady said I should push for mum to see a nutritionist, though she said that someone would probably refer mum anyway at some point. She also said to be realistic (because of mum's mouth problems she can't eat much veg, or fruit [down to soft fruits like bananas and raspberries, even strawberries are now too hard]) that mum wasn't going to get her five a day and I shouldn't worry about that too much, but to get her to eat what fruit and veg she could. She also said that I should give mum high fat (i.e. regular, rather than diet) food, and aim to keep the sugar in the food down, which sounds like good advice as far as getting calories into her but without messing up her blood sugar too much. At least, I hope it's good advice. It sounded it. Depending on what happens this week I'll try to get mum to her GP and explain (or get her to explain) I'm concerned about mum's eating and weight loss. Hopefully he'll be less blinkered by "losing weight good for type 2 diabetes" :/

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (Stargate SG1 Jack O'Neill (two l's ;)))
Currently hiding away in a Starbucks in Croydon while mum is having the biopsy done at the day surgery unit. I left her at about 9am when they took her through to pre-op, which was further than I was allowed to go, though apparently they didn't think she would actually be done until about 11ish.

Taking anti sickness pills didn't seem to work as this morning mum was sick on arriving at the hospital, though thankfully into the bowl I've been carring in the car rather than getting it on the car. Ended up taking her up to the DSU in a wheelchair though, as it left her very weak. Despite telling staff on Friday, and reminding them numerous times this morning that mum is mostly deaf in one ear now and telling them which side to speak to, they kept talking to her on her deaf side, with one nurse whispering her questions into that ear and then wondering why mum didn't respond. Gah.

They're going to use two anaesthetists, which worried me (and I think mum too - she said she wondered if they thought there was another tumour in her throat), though people on irc tell me it's actually quite usual, so I'm a bit more chilled than I was when I left her.

Found out today that the pretty useless diabetic nurse who I was annoyed at anyway told mum last week that all weight loss was good, which left me quite grrrry. It came up because I noticed when doing up mum's hospital gown that it was much looser than last time she had a biopsy. Last time it was fairly tight at the top on the loosest tie they had there, and didn't do up at the back. This time it was loose even on the tightest tie they had there and left no gap at the back. It was a really obvious sign to me of the speed at which she is losing weight at the moment, which is why I keep quietly and not so quietly wibbling about it.

I ended up calling Macmillan (thankfully calls to them are free on major mobile networks) when I got out to the car and wibbled at a cancer nurse there for half an hour. She said that while weight loss may be good from a diabetes pov "this (cancer/not eating/not keeping stuff down) is not how she should be losing weight" and agreed that she probably needs more calories than she's getting/keeping down. The Macmillan lady said I should push for mum to see a nutritionist, though she said that someone would probably refer mum anyway at some point. She also said to be realistic (because of mum's mouth problems she can't eat much veg, or fruit [down to soft fruits like bananas and raspberries, even strawberries are now too hard]) that mum wasn't going to get her five a day and I shouldn't worry about that too much, but to get her to eat what fruit and veg she could. She also said that I should give mum high fat (i.e. regular, rather than diet) food, and aim to keep the sugar in the food down, which sounds like good advice as far as getting calories into her but without messing up her blood sugar too much. At least, I hope it's good advice. It sounded it. Depending on what happens this week I'll try to get mum to her GP and explain (or get her to explain) I'm concerned about mum's eating and weight loss. Hopefully he'll be less blinkered by "losing weight good for type 2 diabetes" :/

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (NCIS gibbs abby protection)
Got to Mayday for the hastily arranged ENT appointment about half an hour early and were seen immediately by the doctor. I can't say I was overly impressed with his bedside manner, though it improved some way into the appointment where we reached a mutual understanding. A little more on that further in.

To start with the doctor was very brisk, and wanted to know mum's history with this problem starting from the beginning which upset and frustrated her, so I'm not sure he got a complete picture. Then without any prep time at all went to stick a camera up her nose to see what was going on up there, which completely understandably completely upset mum. She started to cry and said that she hadn't expected that - which was fair as we were just told to be there, no details more than that - and the doctor got kind of frustrated and said that he'd only been handed the case the evening before and had squeezed us into his clinic as a favour to the Neurologist that mum had seen before and was seeing lots more patients in clinic today than he had timeslots for. I guess that explains why we got seen as soon as we got there rather than at a specific time. After we understood he was rushed and he understood mum was scared and uninformed about what the appointment would involve he became much better bedside manner wise. It's a shame it took tears and stuff to get to that point.

He had a go at getting the camera up mum's left nostril, but it didn't go very far as he kept hitting something which I believe was the tumour (he got mum to have a go at blowing her nose, but the blockage didn't move at all), and the attempt looked like it hurt an awful lot (judging by the way mum gripped my hand). It went fine up the right nostril, and appeared to hurt mum much less.

He appeared rather concerned and disappeared for a bit to arrange some things, and then came back to his office to make calls to further arrange things while we were in there. It amused me to hear him sweet talking nurses in much the same way I sweet talk people when I need something.

Anyway, he'd thought that the tumour needed biopsying asap and managed to squeeze mum into his Monday morning list for a biopsy under a general anaesthetic. The rest of the time at the hospital involved heading to the day surgery ward to get pre-admitted and see an anaesthetist (though not the one who'll be doing mum tomorrow) to be checked anaesthetic wise. Was informed that the major risk is that it doesn't stop bleeding after the biopsy is taken and if that happens her nose (through which the biopsy is being taken) will be packed and she'll be sent from Mayday (in Croydon, where all the appointments so far have been, and where the biopsy will be done tomorrow) to St Georges (in Tooting) to be admitted. Really hope that won't happen, but am pondering putting a bag of jammies and washing supplies in the car tomorrow morning just in case, in the hope being prepared will ward off problems.

The follow up to the biopsy will be at St Georges, where the doctor is actually based. He told us how to get there by public transport as he explained that the parking situation (and traffic on the way) is pretty bad, even for him. It was good of him to explain the transport options but I really don't think that mum is up to public transport at the moment. She had a turn while at Mayday on Friday and needed a wheelchair to get her out to the car again. Managed to sort out alternative arrangements that don't involve public transport, thankfully. My auntie and uncle live very very close (a mile or so) to St Georges, and my auntie has worked there (and still volunteers there) so we'll be parking the car at their house and my uncle will drop us off and pick us up, avoiding, hopefully, the parking problems at the hospital without exhausting mum.

All told, it looks like we'll know by Thursday afternoon what the tumour is and some sort of prognosis. The doctor on Friday didn't tell us at all about the MRI and what it showed, though I know he had the report in mum's file, but I know that between inital diagnosis of the tumour and now she is much much worse. Her left eye is completely non-functional, the huge nosebleeds every couple of weeks have evolved into a continuous drip/dribble of blood, she's almost deaf in her left ear and eating has become more of a challenge. Almost the entirety of the left hand side of her face is numb and tingly now, and the nausea and vomiting is worse. The anaesthetist we saw on Friday suggested mum start taking the anti sick pills at night as a matter of course to hopefully ward off the worst of it.

Off to Coulsdon again soon. We have to be at the hospital for 7:30 am tomorrow, which is quite unholy. I decided I'd rather sleep at mum's and get up early than sleep here and get up in what is essentially the middle of the night and drive there then. I think tomorrow will be quite long enough without starting at 4am. All the same, leaving here for Coulsdon is getting harder each week, though I'm not sure whether it's because I'm eating into my mood/spoons reserves each time I spend a week there, or because the situation is getting harder in itself.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (NCIS gibbs abby protection)
Got to Mayday for the hastily arranged ENT appointment about half an hour early and were seen immediately by the doctor. I can't say I was overly impressed with his bedside manner, though it improved some way into the appointment where we reached a mutual understanding. A little more on that further in.

To start with the doctor was very brisk, and wanted to know mum's history with this problem starting from the beginning which upset and frustrated her, so I'm not sure he got a complete picture. Then without any prep time at all went to stick a camera up her nose to see what was going on up there, which completely understandably completely upset mum. She started to cry and said that she hadn't expected that - which was fair as we were just told to be there, no details more than that - and the doctor got kind of frustrated and said that he'd only been handed the case the evening before and had squeezed us into his clinic as a favour to the Neurologist that mum had seen before and was seeing lots more patients in clinic today than he had timeslots for. I guess that explains why we got seen as soon as we got there rather than at a specific time. After we understood he was rushed and he understood mum was scared and uninformed about what the appointment would involve he became much better bedside manner wise. It's a shame it took tears and stuff to get to that point.

He had a go at getting the camera up mum's left nostril, but it didn't go very far as he kept hitting something which I believe was the tumour (he got mum to have a go at blowing her nose, but the blockage didn't move at all), and the attempt looked like it hurt an awful lot (judging by the way mum gripped my hand). It went fine up the right nostril, and appeared to hurt mum much less.

He appeared rather concerned and disappeared for a bit to arrange some things, and then came back to his office to make calls to further arrange things while we were in there. It amused me to hear him sweet talking nurses in much the same way I sweet talk people when I need something.

Anyway, he'd thought that the tumour needed biopsying asap and managed to squeeze mum into his Monday morning list for a biopsy under a general anaesthetic. The rest of the time at the hospital involved heading to the day surgery ward to get pre-admitted and see an anaesthetist (though not the one who'll be doing mum tomorrow) to be checked anaesthetic wise. Was informed that the major risk is that it doesn't stop bleeding after the biopsy is taken and if that happens her nose (through which the biopsy is being taken) will be packed and she'll be sent from Mayday (in Croydon, where all the appointments so far have been, and where the biopsy will be done tomorrow) to St Georges (in Tooting) to be admitted. Really hope that won't happen, but am pondering putting a bag of jammies and washing supplies in the car tomorrow morning just in case, in the hope being prepared will ward off problems.

The follow up to the biopsy will be at St Georges, where the doctor is actually based. He told us how to get there by public transport as he explained that the parking situation (and traffic on the way) is pretty bad, even for him. It was good of him to explain the transport options but I really don't think that mum is up to public transport at the moment. She had a turn while at Mayday on Friday and needed a wheelchair to get her out to the car again. Managed to sort out alternative arrangements that don't involve public transport, thankfully. My auntie and uncle live very very close (a mile or so) to St Georges, and my auntie has worked there (and still volunteers there) so we'll be parking the car at their house and my uncle will drop us off and pick us up, avoiding, hopefully, the parking problems at the hospital without exhausting mum.

All told, it looks like we'll know by Thursday afternoon what the tumour is and some sort of prognosis. The doctor on Friday didn't tell us at all about the MRI and what it showed, though I know he had the report in mum's file, but I know that between inital diagnosis of the tumour and now she is much much worse. Her left eye is completely non-functional, the huge nosebleeds every couple of weeks have evolved into a continuous drip/dribble of blood, she's almost deaf in her left ear and eating has become more of a challenge. Almost the entirety of the left hand side of her face is numb and tingly now, and the nausea and vomiting is worse. The anaesthetist we saw on Friday suggested mum start taking the anti sick pills at night as a matter of course to hopefully ward off the worst of it.

Off to Coulsdon again soon. We have to be at the hospital for 7:30 am tomorrow, which is quite unholy. I decided I'd rather sleep at mum's and get up early than sleep here and get up in what is essentially the middle of the night and drive there then. I think tomorrow will be quite long enough without starting at 4am. All the same, leaving here for Coulsdon is getting harder each week, though I'm not sure whether it's because I'm eating into my mood/spoons reserves each time I spend a week there, or because the situation is getting harder in itself.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (NCIS gibbs abby protection)
Got to Mayday for the hastily arranged ENT appointment about half an hour early and were seen immediately by the doctor. I can't say I was overly impressed with his bedside manner, though it improved some way into the appointment where we reached a mutual understanding. A little more on that further in.

To start with the doctor was very brisk, and wanted to know mum's history with this problem starting from the beginning which upset and frustrated her, so I'm not sure he got a complete picture. Then without any prep time at all went to stick a camera up her nose to see what was going on up there, which completely understandably completely upset mum. She started to cry and said that she hadn't expected that - which was fair as we were just told to be there, no details more than that - and the doctor got kind of frustrated and said that he'd only been handed the case the evening before and had squeezed us into his clinic as a favour to the Neurologist that mum had seen before and was seeing lots more patients in clinic today than he had timeslots for. I guess that explains why we got seen as soon as we got there rather than at a specific time. After we understood he was rushed and he understood mum was scared and uninformed about what the appointment would involve he became much better bedside manner wise. It's a shame it took tears and stuff to get to that point.

He had a go at getting the camera up mum's left nostril, but it didn't go very far as he kept hitting something which I believe was the tumour (he got mum to have a go at blowing her nose, but the blockage didn't move at all), and the attempt looked like it hurt an awful lot (judging by the way mum gripped my hand). It went fine up the right nostril, and appeared to hurt mum much less.

He appeared rather concerned and disappeared for a bit to arrange some things, and then came back to his office to make calls to further arrange things while we were in there. It amused me to hear him sweet talking nurses in much the same way I sweet talk people when I need something.

Anyway, he'd thought that the tumour needed biopsying asap and managed to squeeze mum into his Monday morning list for a biopsy under a general anaesthetic. The rest of the time at the hospital involved heading to the day surgery ward to get pre-admitted and see an anaesthetist (though not the one who'll be doing mum tomorrow) to be checked anaesthetic wise. Was informed that the major risk is that it doesn't stop bleeding after the biopsy is taken and if that happens her nose (through which the biopsy is being taken) will be packed and she'll be sent from Mayday (in Croydon, where all the appointments so far have been, and where the biopsy will be done tomorrow) to St Georges (in Tooting) to be admitted. Really hope that won't happen, but am pondering putting a bag of jammies and washing supplies in the car tomorrow morning just in case, in the hope being prepared will ward off problems.

The follow up to the biopsy will be at St Georges, where the doctor is actually based. He told us how to get there by public transport as he explained that the parking situation (and traffic on the way) is pretty bad, even for him. It was good of him to explain the transport options but I really don't think that mum is up to public transport at the moment. She had a turn while at Mayday on Friday and needed a wheelchair to get her out to the car again. Managed to sort out alternative arrangements that don't involve public transport, thankfully. My auntie and uncle live very very close (a mile or so) to St Georges, and my auntie has worked there (and still volunteers there) so we'll be parking the car at their house and my uncle will drop us off and pick us up, avoiding, hopefully, the parking problems at the hospital without exhausting mum.

All told, it looks like we'll know by Thursday afternoon what the tumour is and some sort of prognosis. The doctor on Friday didn't tell us at all about the MRI and what it showed, though I know he had the report in mum's file, but I know that between inital diagnosis of the tumour and now she is much much worse. Her left eye is completely non-functional, the huge nosebleeds every couple of weeks have evolved into a continuous drip/dribble of blood, she's almost deaf in her left ear and eating has become more of a challenge. Almost the entirety of the left hand side of her face is numb and tingly now, and the nausea and vomiting is worse. The anaesthetist we saw on Friday suggested mum start taking the anti sick pills at night as a matter of course to hopefully ward off the worst of it.

Off to Coulsdon again soon. We have to be at the hospital for 7:30 am tomorrow, which is quite unholy. I decided I'd rather sleep at mum's and get up early than sleep here and get up in what is essentially the middle of the night and drive there then. I think tomorrow will be quite long enough without starting at 4am. All the same, leaving here for Coulsdon is getting harder each week, though I'm not sure whether it's because I'm eating into my mood/spoons reserves each time I spend a week there, or because the situation is getting harder in itself.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (sheep baa)
Toddled off to Mayday earlier to get the MRI done. I drove as carefully as I could, possibly my best and smoothest driving for ever as mum was feeling extremely nauseous and I really didn't want her being sick on the way (though we have an emesis basin in the car permanently atm just in case) as that would have been distressing for us both and we didn't need that. I (and she) made it \o/ Trying to drive smoothly makes it clear how awful the roads are at the moment though :(

Anyway, the MRI suite at Mayday smelled of paint and white spirit and was incredibly disorganised, with no signs telling us where it was. It turns out that the reason why is because they're still decorating, having moved in (from a portacabin on the hospital site somewhere) either Tuesday or today (Wednesday). After signing in and doing paperwork we waited for 50 mins, then I asked a member of staff who was passing how much longer it was likely to be. I was very polite and not mean or anything. Mostly I was just worried about whether or not I'd have to put more money on the car parking. Anyway, after asking someone mum was taken back for the MRI almost straight away. From them taking her back to her returning to me took about 55 mins. Got back to the car the minute the ticket expired. Not bad timing really. The MRI people said that they would have to write a report and would then ask mum to come back for more imaging (which I guess means another MRI or CT or something?) or she'd be called in to see her consultant. Now I guess we have to wait to see what the MRI shows. After the first CT scan mum was called back within 2 working days when it showed up a tumour, so hopefully the turnaround on the MRI will be as quick and we will find out where the primary tumour is hiding. If they can't pinpoint it using the MRI, they'll be biopsying the tumour on and behind her cheekbone. Ah, now I'm repeating myself. My apologies. The MRI today was of her head and neck.

Meanwhile, as well as the nausea and vomiting problems that I talked about last post, and the loss of appetite, the tumour appears to be causing various other distressing problems. One of the main ones is making mum vulnerable to infections - she's being treated for her second UTI in four weeks at the moment, which makes me nervous when I get a sore throat or anything. If it's a cold and I pass it along to her, I have no idea what the consequences would be. Another is nosebleeds. I guess it's the way the tumour is pressing on stuff, though I don't really know. She's had a few enormous nose bleeds that have lasted for ages (though [thankfully?] I've yet to be around for one), and on friday night she asked Phil to call an ambulance for her because the loss of blood was so sudden and dramatic (she thought it had stopped and it suddenly started again with a vengeance). Thankfully they were able to treat her at home, but it's another of those things that makes me realise how vulnerable the tumour(s) are making her, and not just in the obvious "she has cancer" sort of ways.

Cut, a ramble in which I moan about trying to get a prescription filled at half past six on a weekday in Greater London )

Since the first UTI she's been drinking a glass of cranberry juice a day. Is there anything else we can do to ward off the dreaded cystitis or is that about it? Also, is reduced sugar cranberry juice less effective or the same effective as regular when it comes to warding infections off? Does cranberry juice even work? Obviously for the comfort of everyone concerned we'd like to keep them to a minimum, hence the cranberry juice. It doesn't seem to have worked that well though :/

After my last LJ entry, [livejournal.com profile] red_pill sweetly said he'd deal with vomit as he has no particular problem with it, which is very sweet of him. I think we've decided that if he is around, he will deal with it, and if I'm the only one around then I'll grit my teeth and deal with it as best I can. Hopefully I will continue to be successful in keeping my own tummy contents in.

I should go to bed. It's very late as I've been writing this (and spent two hours bitching on twitter about the inadequacies of our legislative process with regards to the Digital Economy Bill) and [livejournal.com profile] bethanthepurple is visiting tomorrow (at least, as long as the hospital don't call us in on short notice), so I'd like to at least be a little alert for that ;)

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (sheep baa)
Toddled off to Mayday earlier to get the MRI done. I drove as carefully as I could, possibly my best and smoothest driving for ever as mum was feeling extremely nauseous and I really didn't want her being sick on the way (though we have an emesis basin in the car permanently atm just in case) as that would have been distressing for us both and we didn't need that. I (and she) made it \o/ Trying to drive smoothly makes it clear how awful the roads are at the moment though :(

Anyway, the MRI suite at Mayday smelled of paint and white spirit and was incredibly disorganised, with no signs telling us where it was. It turns out that the reason why is because they're still decorating, having moved in (from a portacabin on the hospital site somewhere) either Tuesday or today (Wednesday). After signing in and doing paperwork we waited for 50 mins, then I asked a member of staff who was passing how much longer it was likely to be. I was very polite and not mean or anything. Mostly I was just worried about whether or not I'd have to put more money on the car parking. Anyway, after asking someone mum was taken back for the MRI almost straight away. From them taking her back to her returning to me took about 55 mins. Got back to the car the minute the ticket expired. Not bad timing really. The MRI people said that they would have to write a report and would then ask mum to come back for more imaging (which I guess means another MRI or CT or something?) or she'd be called in to see her consultant. Now I guess we have to wait to see what the MRI shows. After the first CT scan mum was called back within 2 working days when it showed up a tumour, so hopefully the turnaround on the MRI will be as quick and we will find out where the primary tumour is hiding. If they can't pinpoint it using the MRI, they'll be biopsying the tumour on and behind her cheekbone. Ah, now I'm repeating myself. My apologies. The MRI today was of her head and neck.

Meanwhile, as well as the nausea and vomiting problems that I talked about last post, and the loss of appetite, the tumour appears to be causing various other distressing problems. One of the main ones is making mum vulnerable to infections - she's being treated for her second UTI in four weeks at the moment, which makes me nervous when I get a sore throat or anything. If it's a cold and I pass it along to her, I have no idea what the consequences would be. Another is nosebleeds. I guess it's the way the tumour is pressing on stuff, though I don't really know. She's had a few enormous nose bleeds that have lasted for ages (though [thankfully?] I've yet to be around for one), and on friday night she asked Phil to call an ambulance for her because the loss of blood was so sudden and dramatic (she thought it had stopped and it suddenly started again with a vengeance). Thankfully they were able to treat her at home, but it's another of those things that makes me realise how vulnerable the tumour(s) are making her, and not just in the obvious "she has cancer" sort of ways.

Cut, a ramble in which I moan about trying to get a prescription filled at half past six on a weekday in Greater London )

Since the first UTI she's been drinking a glass of cranberry juice a day. Is there anything else we can do to ward off the dreaded cystitis or is that about it? Also, is reduced sugar cranberry juice less effective or the same effective as regular when it comes to warding infections off? Does cranberry juice even work? Obviously for the comfort of everyone concerned we'd like to keep them to a minimum, hence the cranberry juice. It doesn't seem to have worked that well though :/

After my last LJ entry, [livejournal.com profile] red_pill sweetly said he'd deal with vomit as he has no particular problem with it, which is very sweet of him. I think we've decided that if he is around, he will deal with it, and if I'm the only one around then I'll grit my teeth and deal with it as best I can. Hopefully I will continue to be successful in keeping my own tummy contents in.

I should go to bed. It's very late as I've been writing this (and spent two hours bitching on twitter about the inadequacies of our legislative process with regards to the Digital Economy Bill) and [livejournal.com profile] bethanthepurple is visiting tomorrow (at least, as long as the hospital don't call us in on short notice), so I'd like to at least be a little alert for that ;)

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (sheep baa)
Toddled off to Mayday earlier to get the MRI done. I drove as carefully as I could, possibly my best and smoothest driving for ever as mum was feeling extremely nauseous and I really didn't want her being sick on the way (though we have an emesis basin in the car permanently atm just in case) as that would have been distressing for us both and we didn't need that. I (and she) made it \o/ Trying to drive smoothly makes it clear how awful the roads are at the moment though :(

Anyway, the MRI suite at Mayday smelled of paint and white spirit and was incredibly disorganised, with no signs telling us where it was. It turns out that the reason why is because they're still decorating, having moved in (from a portacabin on the hospital site somewhere) either Tuesday or today (Wednesday). After signing in and doing paperwork we waited for 50 mins, then I asked a member of staff who was passing how much longer it was likely to be. I was very polite and not mean or anything. Mostly I was just worried about whether or not I'd have to put more money on the car parking. Anyway, after asking someone mum was taken back for the MRI almost straight away. From them taking her back to her returning to me took about 55 mins. Got back to the car the minute the ticket expired. Not bad timing really. The MRI people said that they would have to write a report and would then ask mum to come back for more imaging (which I guess means another MRI or CT or something?) or she'd be called in to see her consultant. Now I guess we have to wait to see what the MRI shows. After the first CT scan mum was called back within 2 working days when it showed up a tumour, so hopefully the turnaround on the MRI will be as quick and we will find out where the primary tumour is hiding. If they can't pinpoint it using the MRI, they'll be biopsying the tumour on and behind her cheekbone. Ah, now I'm repeating myself. My apologies. The MRI today was of her head and neck.

Meanwhile, as well as the nausea and vomiting problems that I talked about last post, and the loss of appetite, the tumour appears to be causing various other distressing problems. One of the main ones is making mum vulnerable to infections - she's being treated for her second UTI in four weeks at the moment, which makes me nervous when I get a sore throat or anything. If it's a cold and I pass it along to her, I have no idea what the consequences would be. Another is nosebleeds. I guess it's the way the tumour is pressing on stuff, though I don't really know. She's had a few enormous nose bleeds that have lasted for ages (though [thankfully?] I've yet to be around for one), and on friday night she asked Phil to call an ambulance for her because the loss of blood was so sudden and dramatic (she thought it had stopped and it suddenly started again with a vengeance). Thankfully they were able to treat her at home, but it's another of those things that makes me realise how vulnerable the tumour(s) are making her, and not just in the obvious "she has cancer" sort of ways.

Cut, a ramble in which I moan about trying to get a prescription filled at half past six on a weekday in Greater London )

Since the first UTI she's been drinking a glass of cranberry juice a day. Is there anything else we can do to ward off the dreaded cystitis or is that about it? Also, is reduced sugar cranberry juice less effective or the same effective as regular when it comes to warding infections off? Does cranberry juice even work? Obviously for the comfort of everyone concerned we'd like to keep them to a minimum, hence the cranberry juice. It doesn't seem to have worked that well though :/

After my last LJ entry, [livejournal.com profile] red_pill sweetly said he'd deal with vomit as he has no particular problem with it, which is very sweet of him. I think we've decided that if he is around, he will deal with it, and if I'm the only one around then I'll grit my teeth and deal with it as best I can. Hopefully I will continue to be successful in keeping my own tummy contents in.

I should go to bed. It's very late as I've been writing this (and spent two hours bitching on twitter about the inadequacies of our legislative process with regards to the Digital Economy Bill) and [livejournal.com profile] bethanthepurple is visiting tomorrow (at least, as long as the hospital don't call us in on short notice), so I'd like to at least be a little alert for that ;)

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - duckling-bum)
Not updated this for a few days (a week?), owing to being very busy indeed. Ben arrived on Wednesday night and took me out to dinner (and was generally fabulous the entire time he was here), and we spent most of Thursday and Friday sorting stuff out for mum's birthday, doing various errands and helping mum celebrate her birthday, before getting back to Canterbury late on Friday night for the rest of our weekend. Mum had a passable few days that week, though had a huge headache on Friday night that necessitated calling the doctor for some stronger painkillers than she had been taking (uber co-codamol, as the Tramadol the hospital gave her makes her feel sick). The headache thing worried me a bit as it brought to the forefront of my mind my worries about what a highly aggressive tumour (the drs at the hospital said it was because of the speed it had caused symptoms and degeneration in function in her face, though as of yet, we still don't know what it is) has been doing in the weeks between the first diagnosis of a tumour and now. I keep worrying that the gap between then and now will mean that a treatable tumour will have become terminal in the meantime. Which is silly, because I'm worrying about things that a) I have no control over and b) haven't even come to pass yet.

The MRI is scheduled for today at 12:15 and I'm hoping I can get mum to the hospital and back without her being sick. Attacks of sickness and nausea are becoming more frequent and I think they may be related to the tumour(s). Of all the symptoms mum has, this is the one I struggle with most. I hate vomit. It makes me want to vomit. Yesterday mum was sick several times and it took me 10 mins and nearly losing the contents of my own stomach 5 or 6 times before I got it from the bowl into the loo. It was ok so long as I wasn't looking at it. No nausea or retching as long as I had my eyes shut or it in a different room, but it's hardly a valid strategy for anything other than getting vomit over the floor between the living room and downstairs loo. Once the bowl was cleared of vomit it was fine - no retching or anything while I cleaned it out with water and then dettol'd it. I know there's probably a good deal more vomit in my future and it's one of the things that worries me a lot. Rather pathetic I know. In the great scheme of things it's not really that bad, but I really can't deal with it. I assume that I will get better at dealing with it. I hope I do, for mum's sake anyway.

Mum saw the diabetic nurse yesterday for a routine review and asked some questions I'd asked her to ask and it seems that the diabetic nurse was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Mum was diagnosed with type 2 just before the symptoms of the tumour became apparent, so the treatment of the type 2 features in the complicated mess of trying to get some calories in to mum. I've probably mentioned before that the tumour on her cheekbone makes it hard for her to eat, especially anything hard, and makes eating extremely slow and hard work. On top of this, which makes her disinclined to eat, is the nausea and vomiting, which makes it extremely difficult to tempt her appetite. She's losing a lot of weight, which I suppose is good from the type 2 diabetes POV but I don't think she's losing it in the right way. She's barely eating, sometimes not keeping down what she does eat and so it's just melting off her. I'm worried that she won't have the energy to deal with whatever treatment she has for the cancer and that she will get malnourished. Sometimes when she's been sick the only thing she feels like eating(or that she can eat) is something that is bad from a diabetes POV like carrot cake, which then gives her the energy to eat something better for her. The only fruit she can manage is raspberries, grapes and blueberries. It's not really ideal.

The diabetic nurse said that if that was all she could manage (the carrot cake type thing) then she should eat that, but it was better if she could manage something like soup and bread. Which is what we were doing, but I feel as much in the dark as to how to deal with mum's nutrition problems as I did before, and I'm angry and upset about that. I got more help from my Auntie Pat (type 2 for years and years) who said that mum was eating so little the sugars issue didn't really feature too high and I should just get calories in to her where and when I could. Really I shouldn't be getting more helpful and less wishy washy advice from my aunt, who is not a medical professional than from a nurse with a speciality in that area.

Gah, it's all so complicated :(

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - duckling-bum)
Not updated this for a few days (a week?), owing to being very busy indeed. Ben arrived on Wednesday night and took me out to dinner (and was generally fabulous the entire time he was here), and we spent most of Thursday and Friday sorting stuff out for mum's birthday, doing various errands and helping mum celebrate her birthday, before getting back to Canterbury late on Friday night for the rest of our weekend. Mum had a passable few days that week, though had a huge headache on Friday night that necessitated calling the doctor for some stronger painkillers than she had been taking (uber co-codamol, as the Tramadol the hospital gave her makes her feel sick). The headache thing worried me a bit as it brought to the forefront of my mind my worries about what a highly aggressive tumour (the drs at the hospital said it was because of the speed it had caused symptoms and degeneration in function in her face, though as of yet, we still don't know what it is) has been doing in the weeks between the first diagnosis of a tumour and now. I keep worrying that the gap between then and now will mean that a treatable tumour will have become terminal in the meantime. Which is silly, because I'm worrying about things that a) I have no control over and b) haven't even come to pass yet.

The MRI is scheduled for today at 12:15 and I'm hoping I can get mum to the hospital and back without her being sick. Attacks of sickness and nausea are becoming more frequent and I think they may be related to the tumour(s). Of all the symptoms mum has, this is the one I struggle with most. I hate vomit. It makes me want to vomit. Yesterday mum was sick several times and it took me 10 mins and nearly losing the contents of my own stomach 5 or 6 times before I got it from the bowl into the loo. It was ok so long as I wasn't looking at it. No nausea or retching as long as I had my eyes shut or it in a different room, but it's hardly a valid strategy for anything other than getting vomit over the floor between the living room and downstairs loo. Once the bowl was cleared of vomit it was fine - no retching or anything while I cleaned it out with water and then dettol'd it. I know there's probably a good deal more vomit in my future and it's one of the things that worries me a lot. Rather pathetic I know. In the great scheme of things it's not really that bad, but I really can't deal with it. I assume that I will get better at dealing with it. I hope I do, for mum's sake anyway.

Mum saw the diabetic nurse yesterday for a routine review and asked some questions I'd asked her to ask and it seems that the diabetic nurse was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Mum was diagnosed with type 2 just before the symptoms of the tumour became apparent, so the treatment of the type 2 features in the complicated mess of trying to get some calories in to mum. I've probably mentioned before that the tumour on her cheekbone makes it hard for her to eat, especially anything hard, and makes eating extremely slow and hard work. On top of this, which makes her disinclined to eat, is the nausea and vomiting, which makes it extremely difficult to tempt her appetite. She's losing a lot of weight, which I suppose is good from the type 2 diabetes POV but I don't think she's losing it in the right way. She's barely eating, sometimes not keeping down what she does eat and so it's just melting off her. I'm worried that she won't have the energy to deal with whatever treatment she has for the cancer and that she will get malnourished. Sometimes when she's been sick the only thing she feels like eating(or that she can eat) is something that is bad from a diabetes POV like carrot cake, which then gives her the energy to eat something better for her. The only fruit she can manage is raspberries, grapes and blueberries. It's not really ideal.

The diabetic nurse said that if that was all she could manage (the carrot cake type thing) then she should eat that, but it was better if she could manage something like soup and bread. Which is what we were doing, but I feel as much in the dark as to how to deal with mum's nutrition problems as I did before, and I'm angry and upset about that. I got more help from my Auntie Pat (type 2 for years and years) who said that mum was eating so little the sugars issue didn't really feature too high and I should just get calories in to her where and when I could. Really I shouldn't be getting more helpful and less wishy washy advice from my aunt, who is not a medical professional than from a nurse with a speciality in that area.

Gah, it's all so complicated :(

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - duckling-bum)
Not updated this for a few days (a week?), owing to being very busy indeed. Ben arrived on Wednesday night and took me out to dinner (and was generally fabulous the entire time he was here), and we spent most of Thursday and Friday sorting stuff out for mum's birthday, doing various errands and helping mum celebrate her birthday, before getting back to Canterbury late on Friday night for the rest of our weekend. Mum had a passable few days that week, though had a huge headache on Friday night that necessitated calling the doctor for some stronger painkillers than she had been taking (uber co-codamol, as the Tramadol the hospital gave her makes her feel sick). The headache thing worried me a bit as it brought to the forefront of my mind my worries about what a highly aggressive tumour (the drs at the hospital said it was because of the speed it had caused symptoms and degeneration in function in her face, though as of yet, we still don't know what it is) has been doing in the weeks between the first diagnosis of a tumour and now. I keep worrying that the gap between then and now will mean that a treatable tumour will have become terminal in the meantime. Which is silly, because I'm worrying about things that a) I have no control over and b) haven't even come to pass yet.

The MRI is scheduled for today at 12:15 and I'm hoping I can get mum to the hospital and back without her being sick. Attacks of sickness and nausea are becoming more frequent and I think they may be related to the tumour(s). Of all the symptoms mum has, this is the one I struggle with most. I hate vomit. It makes me want to vomit. Yesterday mum was sick several times and it took me 10 mins and nearly losing the contents of my own stomach 5 or 6 times before I got it from the bowl into the loo. It was ok so long as I wasn't looking at it. No nausea or retching as long as I had my eyes shut or it in a different room, but it's hardly a valid strategy for anything other than getting vomit over the floor between the living room and downstairs loo. Once the bowl was cleared of vomit it was fine - no retching or anything while I cleaned it out with water and then dettol'd it. I know there's probably a good deal more vomit in my future and it's one of the things that worries me a lot. Rather pathetic I know. In the great scheme of things it's not really that bad, but I really can't deal with it. I assume that I will get better at dealing with it. I hope I do, for mum's sake anyway.

Mum saw the diabetic nurse yesterday for a routine review and asked some questions I'd asked her to ask and it seems that the diabetic nurse was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Mum was diagnosed with type 2 just before the symptoms of the tumour became apparent, so the treatment of the type 2 features in the complicated mess of trying to get some calories in to mum. I've probably mentioned before that the tumour on her cheekbone makes it hard for her to eat, especially anything hard, and makes eating extremely slow and hard work. On top of this, which makes her disinclined to eat, is the nausea and vomiting, which makes it extremely difficult to tempt her appetite. She's losing a lot of weight, which I suppose is good from the type 2 diabetes POV but I don't think she's losing it in the right way. She's barely eating, sometimes not keeping down what she does eat and so it's just melting off her. I'm worried that she won't have the energy to deal with whatever treatment she has for the cancer and that she will get malnourished. Sometimes when she's been sick the only thing she feels like eating(or that she can eat) is something that is bad from a diabetes POV like carrot cake, which then gives her the energy to eat something better for her. The only fruit she can manage is raspberries, grapes and blueberries. It's not really ideal.

The diabetic nurse said that if that was all she could manage (the carrot cake type thing) then she should eat that, but it was better if she could manage something like soup and bread. Which is what we were doing, but I feel as much in the dark as to how to deal with mum's nutrition problems as I did before, and I'm angry and upset about that. I got more help from my Auntie Pat (type 2 for years and years) who said that mum was eating so little the sugars issue didn't really feature too high and I should just get calories in to her where and when I could. Really I shouldn't be getting more helpful and less wishy washy advice from my aunt, who is not a medical professional than from a nurse with a speciality in that area.

Gah, it's all so complicated :(

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (carebare grumpy sleeping)
Yesterday was a much better day for a couple of reasons. First, I got out for a bit a couple of times (getting some ginger tea and some peppermint tea, and some water biscuits to help mum with her nausea and vomiting; going to Coulsdon for a little bit of a wander with mum later), and secondly I achieved some stuff. I have a feeling that those things are quite important in making me feel useful and thus better about being here.

Mum had pretty bad nausea and vomiting on Monday and during Monday night, but started to feel better on Tuesday morning, though still very tired. She cancelled some visitors who were supposed to be coming in the morning and rested and managed to eat something, and by Lunchtime felt up to attempting to go out, so we took it in several steps, which seemed to help her. Pension first, then Coulsdon itself. First to Coulsdon Hardware to get a new mop and bucket (having broken mum's mop during the great room tidy project - it was very funny, Phil looked all forlorn and said looking very sad "I could have sworn [the squeegee mechanism] would have worked before I actually broke it...), then as she was still doing ok we went on to the butchers for some sausages for tomorrow night, then as she was still doing ok we went on to the Coffee place that has sprung up in Coulsdon since I moved away/the bypass was built. A cold drink from there and some carrot cake seemed to do wonders for perking mum up, as, I'm pretty sure, did just getting out. The whole trip wiped her out, but she said she felt better for it.

While she had a sleep I went to work playing with the mop trialling the mop, before losing interest mopping the floors in the kitchen and the bathroom, and hoovering all the other floors while I was at it and had the vacuum cleaner out. I'm pretty sure that the kitchen floor is better for it. I hope so anyway, because it was hard work.

My adventures in cleaning did reveal to me some interesting personality traits in my mum's cats though. George, who is enormous and I think likes to think of himself as a bit of a hard man, is a big scaredy cat who is terrified of the vacuum cleaner. When I went near his chosen sitting place with it on he jumped up and ran away. On the other hand, Violet, who is his sister and very petite, wasn't scared of the vacuum or the mop, or the fact the kitchen floor was wet, and stayed put in the kitchen on her chosen worktop the whole time I was working in there. But curiously I found out while was taking a break that Violet is scared of 80's Power Ballads. While I was taking a break and listening to a rather eclectic mix of music, Violet was curled up next to me asleep. Every time an 80's Power Ballad came on, she'd jump up and look a bit freaked out and need some fussing before she'd relax again. It was very cute. And funny. And I'm clearly mean ;)

The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in my little room again, catching up on various internet things, including the CBB, where I asked for prayers and thoughts to do with this situation and everyone has been overwhelmingly amazing. I can't express how touched I am with the responses, especially towards someone who is largely a lurker now and most people don't know well, but will have a go later at expressing it anyway, because they deserve to know how awesome they are.

Anyway, while I was geeking around with my laptop I became aware of being very cold. I assumed I was just being a big girly wuss, especially as this room is colder than the others because of an air vent in the wall. About half 7 I finally got around to checking on the radiator and it was stone cold at a time when I knew it should be on, and discovered that the gas had run out (I'd forgotten how much of a pain these type of meters could be). Ended up taking the gas card and the electric key down to the place in the valley that tops them up and decided while I was out I'd get a pizza for dinner because I really couldn't be bothered to cook by this time. All this meant I was back a bit later than I otherwise would have been and I walked into a gaggle (if two plus a toddler is a gaggle) of Mormons, so my pizza went cold while we all talked. As most of you know, I'm no longer a Mormon, and my time with them was often rather, um, fraught, but one of the people (Good Guy) who was there is the only one who consistently stood by my family through everything and who still talks to, and is on good terms with us. Which is the reason I didn't shoo him out of the door faster.

Mum resigned from the church finally last year sometime over the Church's interference with California's Proposition 8 last year, and has foregone contact with them (except for Good Guy) for long before that, so it was a bit of a surprise to see this man with his Home Teaching companion. They'd come to offer mum a Priesthood Blessing as apparently when Good Guy saw her on Sunday to see if there was anything he could do, he offered one and mum said she'd think about it.

Anyway, she decided that actually she didn't want one and proceeded to doze through the rest of the visit - good for her - while I chatted because after about 6 years out, and 6 years inactive before, and what they did to me and my family (lots of hurt/bitterness still) that I still don't feel like I can be rude to them. Gah. Still, the visit did result in Good Guy saying he'd do some basic garden maintenance for us, which is good because Phil and I are too busy (and I'm too inept when it comes to garden stuff) and mum too ill to be able to do it ourselves. I also chatted to the Home Teaching Companion about UKC, where he was a student at KLS until 2007, which was quite nice. Alas, I fear I have given away too much of my location to him in my desire to express how much I loved Canterbury. Hope we don't end up with a visit from the missionaries...

When I finally got to my pizza it was lukewarm, fading to cold before the end :( I've no idea how they manage it, but Mormons seem very good at turning up when dinner is nearly or actually ready and then talking until it's cold :(

Currently waiting for the Tesco delivery to arrive and feeling the early and cold today. I'd then go back to sleep and be a big lazy thing, but it's mum's payday and if she feels up to it has a number of things she wants to do.


Much later - Tesco turned up, food is all put away. Think I may have ordered too much. Fridge and Freezer cannae take much more captain! Also managed to have a shower, in preparation for venturing to Croydon later if mum feels up to it.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (carebare grumpy sleeping)
Yesterday was a much better day for a couple of reasons. First, I got out for a bit a couple of times (getting some ginger tea and some peppermint tea, and some water biscuits to help mum with her nausea and vomiting; going to Coulsdon for a little bit of a wander with mum later), and secondly I achieved some stuff. I have a feeling that those things are quite important in making me feel useful and thus better about being here.

Mum had pretty bad nausea and vomiting on Monday and during Monday night, but started to feel better on Tuesday morning, though still very tired. She cancelled some visitors who were supposed to be coming in the morning and rested and managed to eat something, and by Lunchtime felt up to attempting to go out, so we took it in several steps, which seemed to help her. Pension first, then Coulsdon itself. First to Coulsdon Hardware to get a new mop and bucket (having broken mum's mop during the great room tidy project - it was very funny, Phil looked all forlorn and said looking very sad "I could have sworn [the squeegee mechanism] would have worked before I actually broke it...), then as she was still doing ok we went on to the butchers for some sausages for tomorrow night, then as she was still doing ok we went on to the Coffee place that has sprung up in Coulsdon since I moved away/the bypass was built. A cold drink from there and some carrot cake seemed to do wonders for perking mum up, as, I'm pretty sure, did just getting out. The whole trip wiped her out, but she said she felt better for it.

While she had a sleep I went to work playing with the mop trialling the mop, before losing interest mopping the floors in the kitchen and the bathroom, and hoovering all the other floors while I was at it and had the vacuum cleaner out. I'm pretty sure that the kitchen floor is better for it. I hope so anyway, because it was hard work.

My adventures in cleaning did reveal to me some interesting personality traits in my mum's cats though. George, who is enormous and I think likes to think of himself as a bit of a hard man, is a big scaredy cat who is terrified of the vacuum cleaner. When I went near his chosen sitting place with it on he jumped up and ran away. On the other hand, Violet, who is his sister and very petite, wasn't scared of the vacuum or the mop, or the fact the kitchen floor was wet, and stayed put in the kitchen on her chosen worktop the whole time I was working in there. But curiously I found out while was taking a break that Violet is scared of 80's Power Ballads. While I was taking a break and listening to a rather eclectic mix of music, Violet was curled up next to me asleep. Every time an 80's Power Ballad came on, she'd jump up and look a bit freaked out and need some fussing before she'd relax again. It was very cute. And funny. And I'm clearly mean ;)

The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in my little room again, catching up on various internet things, including the CBB, where I asked for prayers and thoughts to do with this situation and everyone has been overwhelmingly amazing. I can't express how touched I am with the responses, especially towards someone who is largely a lurker now and most people don't know well, but will have a go later at expressing it anyway, because they deserve to know how awesome they are.

Anyway, while I was geeking around with my laptop I became aware of being very cold. I assumed I was just being a big girly wuss, especially as this room is colder than the others because of an air vent in the wall. About half 7 I finally got around to checking on the radiator and it was stone cold at a time when I knew it should be on, and discovered that the gas had run out (I'd forgotten how much of a pain these type of meters could be). Ended up taking the gas card and the electric key down to the place in the valley that tops them up and decided while I was out I'd get a pizza for dinner because I really couldn't be bothered to cook by this time. All this meant I was back a bit later than I otherwise would have been and I walked into a gaggle (if two plus a toddler is a gaggle) of Mormons, so my pizza went cold while we all talked. As most of you know, I'm no longer a Mormon, and my time with them was often rather, um, fraught, but one of the people (Good Guy) who was there is the only one who consistently stood by my family through everything and who still talks to, and is on good terms with us. Which is the reason I didn't shoo him out of the door faster.

Mum resigned from the church finally last year sometime over the Church's interference with California's Proposition 8 last year, and has foregone contact with them (except for Good Guy) for long before that, so it was a bit of a surprise to see this man with his Home Teaching companion. They'd come to offer mum a Priesthood Blessing as apparently when Good Guy saw her on Sunday to see if there was anything he could do, he offered one and mum said she'd think about it.

Anyway, she decided that actually she didn't want one and proceeded to doze through the rest of the visit - good for her - while I chatted because after about 6 years out, and 6 years inactive before, and what they did to me and my family (lots of hurt/bitterness still) that I still don't feel like I can be rude to them. Gah. Still, the visit did result in Good Guy saying he'd do some basic garden maintenance for us, which is good because Phil and I are too busy (and I'm too inept when it comes to garden stuff) and mum too ill to be able to do it ourselves. I also chatted to the Home Teaching Companion about UKC, where he was a student at KLS until 2007, which was quite nice. Alas, I fear I have given away too much of my location to him in my desire to express how much I loved Canterbury. Hope we don't end up with a visit from the missionaries...

When I finally got to my pizza it was lukewarm, fading to cold before the end :( I've no idea how they manage it, but Mormons seem very good at turning up when dinner is nearly or actually ready and then talking until it's cold :(

Currently waiting for the Tesco delivery to arrive and feeling the early and cold today. I'd then go back to sleep and be a big lazy thing, but it's mum's payday and if she feels up to it has a number of things she wants to do.


Much later - Tesco turned up, food is all put away. Think I may have ordered too much. Fridge and Freezer cannae take much more captain! Also managed to have a shower, in preparation for venturing to Croydon later if mum feels up to it.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (carebare grumpy sleeping)
Yesterday was a much better day for a couple of reasons. First, I got out for a bit a couple of times (getting some ginger tea and some peppermint tea, and some water biscuits to help mum with her nausea and vomiting; going to Coulsdon for a little bit of a wander with mum later), and secondly I achieved some stuff. I have a feeling that those things are quite important in making me feel useful and thus better about being here.

Mum had pretty bad nausea and vomiting on Monday and during Monday night, but started to feel better on Tuesday morning, though still very tired. She cancelled some visitors who were supposed to be coming in the morning and rested and managed to eat something, and by Lunchtime felt up to attempting to go out, so we took it in several steps, which seemed to help her. Pension first, then Coulsdon itself. First to Coulsdon Hardware to get a new mop and bucket (having broken mum's mop during the great room tidy project - it was very funny, Phil looked all forlorn and said looking very sad "I could have sworn [the squeegee mechanism] would have worked before I actually broke it...), then as she was still doing ok we went on to the butchers for some sausages for tomorrow night, then as she was still doing ok we went on to the Coffee place that has sprung up in Coulsdon since I moved away/the bypass was built. A cold drink from there and some carrot cake seemed to do wonders for perking mum up, as, I'm pretty sure, did just getting out. The whole trip wiped her out, but she said she felt better for it.

While she had a sleep I went to work playing with the mop trialling the mop, before losing interest mopping the floors in the kitchen and the bathroom, and hoovering all the other floors while I was at it and had the vacuum cleaner out. I'm pretty sure that the kitchen floor is better for it. I hope so anyway, because it was hard work.

My adventures in cleaning did reveal to me some interesting personality traits in my mum's cats though. George, who is enormous and I think likes to think of himself as a bit of a hard man, is a big scaredy cat who is terrified of the vacuum cleaner. When I went near his chosen sitting place with it on he jumped up and ran away. On the other hand, Violet, who is his sister and very petite, wasn't scared of the vacuum or the mop, or the fact the kitchen floor was wet, and stayed put in the kitchen on her chosen worktop the whole time I was working in there. But curiously I found out while was taking a break that Violet is scared of 80's Power Ballads. While I was taking a break and listening to a rather eclectic mix of music, Violet was curled up next to me asleep. Every time an 80's Power Ballad came on, she'd jump up and look a bit freaked out and need some fussing before she'd relax again. It was very cute. And funny. And I'm clearly mean ;)

The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in my little room again, catching up on various internet things, including the CBB, where I asked for prayers and thoughts to do with this situation and everyone has been overwhelmingly amazing. I can't express how touched I am with the responses, especially towards someone who is largely a lurker now and most people don't know well, but will have a go later at expressing it anyway, because they deserve to know how awesome they are.

Anyway, while I was geeking around with my laptop I became aware of being very cold. I assumed I was just being a big girly wuss, especially as this room is colder than the others because of an air vent in the wall. About half 7 I finally got around to checking on the radiator and it was stone cold at a time when I knew it should be on, and discovered that the gas had run out (I'd forgotten how much of a pain these type of meters could be). Ended up taking the gas card and the electric key down to the place in the valley that tops them up and decided while I was out I'd get a pizza for dinner because I really couldn't be bothered to cook by this time. All this meant I was back a bit later than I otherwise would have been and I walked into a gaggle (if two plus a toddler is a gaggle) of Mormons, so my pizza went cold while we all talked. As most of you know, I'm no longer a Mormon, and my time with them was often rather, um, fraught, but one of the people (Good Guy) who was there is the only one who consistently stood by my family through everything and who still talks to, and is on good terms with us. Which is the reason I didn't shoo him out of the door faster.

Mum resigned from the church finally last year sometime over the Church's interference with California's Proposition 8 last year, and has foregone contact with them (except for Good Guy) for long before that, so it was a bit of a surprise to see this man with his Home Teaching companion. They'd come to offer mum a Priesthood Blessing as apparently when Good Guy saw her on Sunday to see if there was anything he could do, he offered one and mum said she'd think about it.

Anyway, she decided that actually she didn't want one and proceeded to doze through the rest of the visit - good for her - while I chatted because after about 6 years out, and 6 years inactive before, and what they did to me and my family (lots of hurt/bitterness still) that I still don't feel like I can be rude to them. Gah. Still, the visit did result in Good Guy saying he'd do some basic garden maintenance for us, which is good because Phil and I are too busy (and I'm too inept when it comes to garden stuff) and mum too ill to be able to do it ourselves. I also chatted to the Home Teaching Companion about UKC, where he was a student at KLS until 2007, which was quite nice. Alas, I fear I have given away too much of my location to him in my desire to express how much I loved Canterbury. Hope we don't end up with a visit from the missionaries...

When I finally got to my pizza it was lukewarm, fading to cold before the end :( I've no idea how they manage it, but Mormons seem very good at turning up when dinner is nearly or actually ready and then talking until it's cold :(

Currently waiting for the Tesco delivery to arrive and feeling the early and cold today. I'd then go back to sleep and be a big lazy thing, but it's mum's payday and if she feels up to it has a number of things she wants to do.


Much later - Tesco turned up, food is all put away. Think I may have ordered too much. Fridge and Freezer cannae take much more captain! Also managed to have a shower, in preparation for venturing to Croydon later if mum feels up to it.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - Tiptoes cat)
It's been a bad day for both mum and me today. She's had the nausea and vomiting and lack of energy that she's been getting frequently from what we now know is the tumour (though I don't know if it's the Primary, the Secondary or both making her like that), so she's spent most of the day asleep (and getting the sweats from the tramadol which the hospital gave her for the pain, which is just the crown on feeling crappy anyway, I would imagine).

On top of that, the hospital have yet to call and tell us when the MRI is going to be, so there's a fair bit of sitting around twiddling thumbs and I'm really struggling with that. When mum's downstairs, as she is a lot, because it's easier for her to breathe and whatnot when sitting in a comfy chair down there than in bed up here, she has the tv on to what she wants, and has the volume up fairly loud, so as a general rule I'm happier elsewhere. In addition, I want my own space very much and so because of all of these factors I've been hiding out in my room (who'd have thought that at 26 and married I would be saying that again?) most of today. I ache from sitting on a bed or a floor all day.

It's also Monday, so I'm furthest away from being home again, and even though it's a short week as far as being away from Ben is concerned, I miss him, and it feels like a very long time before I see him again. I miss our flat, I miss our gerbils, I miss home cooking, I miss our companionable silences.

I'm sorry for the whining, I truly am. I'm very low, mood-wise right now and I just need to vent before it gets too much.

On the upside, I did the computery part of a tesco order for mum (she told me what was needed and I did the typing and ordering of the things), so at least one good thing has been achieved today. And I just remembered that I also called about postal voting, so I suppose that's two. And hopefully tomorrow will be better.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - Tiptoes cat)
It's been a bad day for both mum and me today. She's had the nausea and vomiting and lack of energy that she's been getting frequently from what we now know is the tumour (though I don't know if it's the Primary, the Secondary or both making her like that), so she's spent most of the day asleep (and getting the sweats from the tramadol which the hospital gave her for the pain, which is just the crown on feeling crappy anyway, I would imagine).

On top of that, the hospital have yet to call and tell us when the MRI is going to be, so there's a fair bit of sitting around twiddling thumbs and I'm really struggling with that. When mum's downstairs, as she is a lot, because it's easier for her to breathe and whatnot when sitting in a comfy chair down there than in bed up here, she has the tv on to what she wants, and has the volume up fairly loud, so as a general rule I'm happier elsewhere. In addition, I want my own space very much and so because of all of these factors I've been hiding out in my room (who'd have thought that at 26 and married I would be saying that again?) most of today. I ache from sitting on a bed or a floor all day.

It's also Monday, so I'm furthest away from being home again, and even though it's a short week as far as being away from Ben is concerned, I miss him, and it feels like a very long time before I see him again. I miss our flat, I miss our gerbils, I miss home cooking, I miss our companionable silences.

I'm sorry for the whining, I truly am. I'm very low, mood-wise right now and I just need to vent before it gets too much.

On the upside, I did the computery part of a tesco order for mum (she told me what was needed and I did the typing and ordering of the things), so at least one good thing has been achieved today. And I just remembered that I also called about postal voting, so I suppose that's two. And hopefully tomorrow will be better.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (animals - Tiptoes cat)
It's been a bad day for both mum and me today. She's had the nausea and vomiting and lack of energy that she's been getting frequently from what we now know is the tumour (though I don't know if it's the Primary, the Secondary or both making her like that), so she's spent most of the day asleep (and getting the sweats from the tramadol which the hospital gave her for the pain, which is just the crown on feeling crappy anyway, I would imagine).

On top of that, the hospital have yet to call and tell us when the MRI is going to be, so there's a fair bit of sitting around twiddling thumbs and I'm really struggling with that. When mum's downstairs, as she is a lot, because it's easier for her to breathe and whatnot when sitting in a comfy chair down there than in bed up here, she has the tv on to what she wants, and has the volume up fairly loud, so as a general rule I'm happier elsewhere. In addition, I want my own space very much and so because of all of these factors I've been hiding out in my room (who'd have thought that at 26 and married I would be saying that again?) most of today. I ache from sitting on a bed or a floor all day.

It's also Monday, so I'm furthest away from being home again, and even though it's a short week as far as being away from Ben is concerned, I miss him, and it feels like a very long time before I see him again. I miss our flat, I miss our gerbils, I miss home cooking, I miss our companionable silences.

I'm sorry for the whining, I truly am. I'm very low, mood-wise right now and I just need to vent before it gets too much.

On the upside, I did the computery part of a tesco order for mum (she told me what was needed and I did the typing and ordering of the things), so at least one good thing has been achieved today. And I just remembered that I also called about postal voting, so I suppose that's two. And hopefully tomorrow will be better.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (granny's garden bee)
I mentioned here that Phil and I spent hours cleaning out the spare room at mum's place so that I could have my own space here. The bed arrived on Saturday and is now all together and covered with bed clothes. I brought some things back from Canterbury this morning to make it more my own space, so I thought I would post the pictures of how it looks now (please excuse the quality, I used my phone camera).

I'm still trying to think of ways to improve the walls. Maybe I need some postcards or something to stick up?

Pictures of my little corner of mum's house. Cut to save your friends page :) )

In other news, still waiting to hear when the MRI will be. I also called mum's council this morning and they're sending forms to register for postal voting, then I called my council who are sending me forms for both a postal and a proxy vote so I can pick which one I want to use. Then I'm hopefully covered should I be here on election day.
lizziec: (granny's garden bee)
I mentioned here that Phil and I spent hours cleaning out the spare room at mum's place so that I could have my own space here. The bed arrived on Saturday and is now all together and covered with bed clothes. I brought some things back from Canterbury this morning to make it more my own space, so I thought I would post the pictures of how it looks now (please excuse the quality, I used my phone camera).

I'm still trying to think of ways to improve the walls. Maybe I need some postcards or something to stick up?

Pictures of my little corner of mum's house. Cut to save your friends page :) )

In other news, still waiting to hear when the MRI will be. I also called mum's council this morning and they're sending forms to register for postal voting, then I called my council who are sending me forms for both a postal and a proxy vote so I can pick which one I want to use. Then I'm hopefully covered should I be here on election day.
lizziec: (granny's garden bee)
I mentioned here that Phil and I spent hours cleaning out the spare room at mum's place so that I could have my own space here. The bed arrived on Saturday and is now all together and covered with bed clothes. I brought some things back from Canterbury this morning to make it more my own space, so I thought I would post the pictures of how it looks now (please excuse the quality, I used my phone camera).

I'm still trying to think of ways to improve the walls. Maybe I need some postcards or something to stick up?

Pictures of my little corner of mum's house. Cut to save your friends page :) )

In other news, still waiting to hear when the MRI will be. I also called mum's council this morning and they're sending forms to register for postal voting, then I called my council who are sending me forms for both a postal and a proxy vote so I can pick which one I want to use. Then I'm hopefully covered should I be here on election day.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (carebare grumpy sleeping)
The bed came at about 2:30pm and is now built and the room is looking vaguely welcoming, which is good, because next week I'll be sleeping in it for five nights.

Made it home through terrible weather at about 7ish. Was rather grumpy but so glad to be home. My home, with my things and my husband, who had even done my chores so I didn't have anything to do when I got in, which is something I'm more grateful for than I can even express right now.

I'm also incredibly grateful for my friends at the moment who have all been supportive in various ways and I don't know what I'd have done in the last few days without their help. Not having any friends in Croydon is actually one of the hardest things about spending a lot of time at mum's in the last few weeks, and the thing I'm going to really struggle with in the coming months if I continue what will start next week and spend 5 days at mum's and only 2(ish) at home.

I rely on my friends a lot for my sanity, and sometimes it really helps a lot if I can just go out for an afternoon or an evening with them, even if we don't necessarily talk about deep things. The only people I know in Coulsdon/Croydon now are my mum and brother, and it makes getting out more difficult. I'm very dull and find it difficult to be out on my own. I'd much rather have someone to have coffee with, or walk with or whatever. I'm not quite sure yet how I'll find a way around it.

Another thing I need to figure out sooner rather than later is how to make the room I'll be sleeping in a bit more my space and less stark spare room. Starting to wish I hadn't got rid of the posters I had before/during Uni. They'd be a start.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (carebare grumpy sleeping)
The bed came at about 2:30pm and is now built and the room is looking vaguely welcoming, which is good, because next week I'll be sleeping in it for five nights.

Made it home through terrible weather at about 7ish. Was rather grumpy but so glad to be home. My home, with my things and my husband, who had even done my chores so I didn't have anything to do when I got in, which is something I'm more grateful for than I can even express right now.

I'm also incredibly grateful for my friends at the moment who have all been supportive in various ways and I don't know what I'd have done in the last few days without their help. Not having any friends in Croydon is actually one of the hardest things about spending a lot of time at mum's in the last few weeks, and the thing I'm going to really struggle with in the coming months if I continue what will start next week and spend 5 days at mum's and only 2(ish) at home.

I rely on my friends a lot for my sanity, and sometimes it really helps a lot if I can just go out for an afternoon or an evening with them, even if we don't necessarily talk about deep things. The only people I know in Coulsdon/Croydon now are my mum and brother, and it makes getting out more difficult. I'm very dull and find it difficult to be out on my own. I'd much rather have someone to have coffee with, or walk with or whatever. I'm not quite sure yet how I'll find a way around it.

Another thing I need to figure out sooner rather than later is how to make the room I'll be sleeping in a bit more my space and less stark spare room. Starting to wish I hadn't got rid of the posters I had before/during Uni. They'd be a start.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (carebare grumpy sleeping)
The bed came at about 2:30pm and is now built and the room is looking vaguely welcoming, which is good, because next week I'll be sleeping in it for five nights.

Made it home through terrible weather at about 7ish. Was rather grumpy but so glad to be home. My home, with my things and my husband, who had even done my chores so I didn't have anything to do when I got in, which is something I'm more grateful for than I can even express right now.

I'm also incredibly grateful for my friends at the moment who have all been supportive in various ways and I don't know what I'd have done in the last few days without their help. Not having any friends in Croydon is actually one of the hardest things about spending a lot of time at mum's in the last few weeks, and the thing I'm going to really struggle with in the coming months if I continue what will start next week and spend 5 days at mum's and only 2(ish) at home.

I rely on my friends a lot for my sanity, and sometimes it really helps a lot if I can just go out for an afternoon or an evening with them, even if we don't necessarily talk about deep things. The only people I know in Coulsdon/Croydon now are my mum and brother, and it makes getting out more difficult. I'm very dull and find it difficult to be out on my own. I'd much rather have someone to have coffee with, or walk with or whatever. I'm not quite sure yet how I'll find a way around it.

Another thing I need to figure out sooner rather than later is how to make the room I'll be sleeping in a bit more my space and less stark spare room. Starting to wish I hadn't got rid of the posters I had before/during Uni. They'd be a start.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered
lizziec: (XKCD sheeple)
Disclaimer: All pictures in this post taken with crappy phone camera. Apologies for the crappiness.

To begin - why on earth is Sainsbury's stocking Hot Cross Buns in December? Before Christmas even?! There are still four months till Easter and it makes my brain hurt to have shop products commemorating His death before we've even celebrated His birth yet.



Today I was in town and (finally) applied for a Cathedral Precincts Pass (we live within four miles of the Bell Harry Tower so we're entitled to one giving us free entry). Other Canterbury-ites who are interested can download the form here. You're eligible if... ) It might be worth your while applying if you are eligible :) Free Stuff ++ . Also, Canterbury residents cards don't work for getting in for free at the Cathedral.

While I was in town I also made a visit to Woolworths for the first time since the closing down was announced and it was very sad :( There wasn't a lot left and none of it was really stuff I wanted to buy. I guess the latter is the reason why they're now defunct. They've even started selling off the fixtures and fittings. That really is quite gutting to see. Can't work out why it is, but it is.



Got home to the news that the list of final closures has been published (list here) and Canterbury is going in the first wave - on the 27th December. Can't help feeling how crappy it is for those (soon to be un)employed by Woolworths. Also of interest to me were that Croydon's is going on 30th December and Coulsdon's is closing on 2nd January. More gapes in the high streets :( It's really all rather sad.

More disturbing to me was that Woolworths has the below signs plastered everywhere. It was quiet (and almost cleared out) when I went, but what kind of chaos must have reigned for these to have to be put up? This is why I'm losing what little faith I had in humanity :(

lizziec: (XKCD sheeple)
Disclaimer: All pictures in this post taken with crappy phone camera. Apologies for the crappiness.

To begin - why on earth is Sainsbury's stocking Hot Cross Buns in December? Before Christmas even?! There are still four months till Easter and it makes my brain hurt to have shop products commemorating His death before we've even celebrated His birth yet.



Today I was in town and (finally) applied for a Cathedral Precincts Pass (we live within four miles of the Bell Harry Tower so we're entitled to one giving us free entry). Other Canterbury-ites who are interested can download the form here. You're eligible if... ) It might be worth your while applying if you are eligible :) Free Stuff ++ . Also, Canterbury residents cards don't work for getting in for free at the Cathedral.

While I was in town I also made a visit to Woolworths for the first time since the closing down was announced and it was very sad :( There wasn't a lot left and none of it was really stuff I wanted to buy. I guess the latter is the reason why they're now defunct. They've even started selling off the fixtures and fittings. That really is quite gutting to see. Can't work out why it is, but it is.



Got home to the news that the list of final closures has been published (list here) and Canterbury is going in the first wave - on the 27th December. Can't help feeling how crappy it is for those (soon to be un)employed by Woolworths. Also of interest to me were that Croydon's is going on 30th December and Coulsdon's is closing on 2nd January. More gapes in the high streets :( It's really all rather sad.

More disturbing to me was that Woolworths has the below signs plastered everywhere. It was quiet (and almost cleared out) when I went, but what kind of chaos must have reigned for these to have to be put up? This is why I'm losing what little faith I had in humanity :(

lizziec: (XKCD sheeple)
Disclaimer: All pictures in this post taken with crappy phone camera. Apologies for the crappiness.

To begin - why on earth is Sainsbury's stocking Hot Cross Buns in December? Before Christmas even?! There are still four months till Easter and it makes my brain hurt to have shop products commemorating His death before we've even celebrated His birth yet.



Today I was in town and (finally) applied for a Cathedral Precincts Pass (we live within four miles of the Bell Harry Tower so we're entitled to one giving us free entry). Other Canterbury-ites who are interested can download the form here. You're eligible if... ) It might be worth your while applying if you are eligible :) Free Stuff ++ . Also, Canterbury residents cards don't work for getting in for free at the Cathedral.

While I was in town I also made a visit to Woolworths for the first time since the closing down was announced and it was very sad :( There wasn't a lot left and none of it was really stuff I wanted to buy. I guess the latter is the reason why they're now defunct. They've even started selling off the fixtures and fittings. That really is quite gutting to see. Can't work out why it is, but it is.



Got home to the news that the list of final closures has been published (list here) and Canterbury is going in the first wave - on the 27th December. Can't help feeling how crappy it is for those (soon to be un)employed by Woolworths. Also of interest to me were that Croydon's is going on 30th December and Coulsdon's is closing on 2nd January. More gapes in the high streets :( It's really all rather sad.

More disturbing to me was that Woolworths has the below signs plastered everywhere. It was quiet (and almost cleared out) when I went, but what kind of chaos must have reigned for these to have to be put up? This is why I'm losing what little faith I had in humanity :(

lizziec: (animals - duckling-bum)
For those of you who didn't read this entry of [livejournal.com profile] no1typo's, Tiptoes (and here) died last night. He had been taken to the vet because he was terribly thin and wheezing a lot of the time, and he was kept over night so they could give him some thyroid and asthma medicine and be checked over properly (though the vet said he thought Tiptoes still had some life left in him), and he died during the night. He was 17 or 18 years old by my reckoning, and had had a good life, but I'm still rather sad. He came in to our lives on a wet April night making a dreadful racket, moving in from next door and causing no end of hassle by refusing to go back to our neighbours using any number of hiding places when they came to get him. Eventually he got his own way and he stayed, and was by far the most vocal of the cats with a purr that sounded like a pneumatic drill and a cry you could hear all over the house. He will be greatly missed.

Entry from when Kitty died.
lizziec: (animals - duckling-bum)
For those of you who didn't read this entry of [livejournal.com profile] no1typo's, Tiptoes (and here) died last night. He had been taken to the vet because he was terribly thin and wheezing a lot of the time, and he was kept over night so they could give him some thyroid and asthma medicine and be checked over properly (though the vet said he thought Tiptoes still had some life left in him), and he died during the night. He was 17 or 18 years old by my reckoning, and had had a good life, but I'm still rather sad. He came in to our lives on a wet April night making a dreadful racket, moving in from next door and causing no end of hassle by refusing to go back to our neighbours using any number of hiding places when they came to get him. Eventually he got his own way and he stayed, and was by far the most vocal of the cats with a purr that sounded like a pneumatic drill and a cry you could hear all over the house. He will be greatly missed.

Entry from when Kitty died.

September 2013

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