Scattered thoughts

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

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

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

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, 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 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

I'm up at mum's now. I brought stuff for several days just in case, and some new pj's for mum, cos she was getting sick of the ones she already had.

More news on what's going on.

The tumour appears to be attached to, and on the back of, her left cheekbone. The doctor she saw today thinks that it is a secondary tumour because of the position it is in. Apparently it's super rare for a primary tumour to be in the position that this one is in, so they're currently playing hunt the primary tumour. They did a CT scan of her abdomen today (to go with the one of her head they did last Thursday) and couldn't find it there, so they're going to do an MRI, hopefully tomorrow, in the hope of picking up where it is. If they can't find it, they're going to biopsy the tumour they *can* find as apparently that will tell them where it came from. And then they can decide how to treat it.

When she got back from the hospital she had me call round the list of primary people to keep informed, which I now have written with numbers in a document on my laptop. Everyone was very nice - almost too nice as I was nearly in tears a couple of times and I'm really trying to make sure I don't cry around mum.

I seem to be oscillating between super-organiser, trying to do all the practical stuff I can, and tears, which is most definitely not helpful or practical. Sometimes though my super practical air takes on a rather morbid and unhelpful tone and I start wondering if I should be sorting out Solicitors for will-making and so on, and I know we're not there yet and it's not the right thing to be thinking, but those thoughts keep creeping in.

red_pill is being awesome, and making me Fajitas for dinner. He's also going to learn to drive, which is very responsible and slightly scary of him. Mum's talking about getting a bed for the spare room after payday, with a view to me having a proper bed to sleep in when I'm here, and some space for just me. Speaking of which, I need to badger Phil and go start clearing that room a little bit together.

Hopefully we'll learn more tomorrow and we can all start to make some sort of a plan for some sort of routine.

Sorry if this entry is rather all over the place, but that pretty much sums up my brain at the moment.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered

So for those following, the doctors have the results of the scan and it's not too good. They've found a growth behind her nose, and they think it's malignant because of the speed symptoms have appeared and got worse in (about 8 weeks). She will know more tomorrow after she's seen a Neurologist. She said it's not secret, and has told all the people who need to be told in person (though this is locked so she doesn't know I've made this update).

So. Yeah. Please send good thoughts to her please, and if you believe in a deity, prayers would also be appreciated.

ETA: 12/07/11 No longer filtered.

Today the NHS turns 60, and I want to wish it a very happy birthday and wish it well for the next 60. I know there are plenty of problems with it, I am not blinkered enough to say that there could not be improvements, but I believe that it is one of the greatest achievements of this country, especially in the post-World War II period. Here's why.

In 1900 (that's only 108 years ago) in this country:
* Life expectancy was below 50 years
* 163 out of every 1000 babies born died before they reached the age of 1 (that's 16.3%)
* The majority of families could not afford to see a doctor

The government refused to interfere as the emphasis at this point in time was on a "laissez-faire" country, meaning that things should be left to take their own course. It was believed that interference by the Government would strangle the economy, so generally people were left to sink or swim as they could. During the latter years of the 19th Century, and the early years of the 20th Century many reports began to come out which drew attention to the plight of the poor, which was reinforced by something of a recruitment crisis for the army during the Boer War. Of those who volunteered 35% (over a third) were rejected as medically unfit, generally because of problems related to poverty.

This changed in 1906 when the Liberal Party was elected, with David Lloyd George as their Chancellor of the Exchequor, and what followed was a package of reforms that ultimately led to a constitutional crisis. The reforms included the setting up of Old Age Pensions, free school meals (which went quite some way to tackling malnutrition among the poor), slum clearance programmes and Labour Exchanges (see here for more information).

The most pertinent reform to what I'm discussing today was the 1911 National Health Insurance act, which brought in various safeguards for those in employment who could afford to contribute to a scheme, which would then pay for them to go see a doctor if ill, and pay a small sum every week if the contributor were unemployed or unable to work. The government paid a sum to the scheme, as did the employer. The limitations of this scheme were numerous. It only covered those able to work, which at this period were mostly men, and even then the only hospitalisation it payed for was sanitorium treatment for TB. It did not cover those earning too little to be able to afford to contribute, children, the elderly, women, and those who were chronically and mentally ill. As a result, many still relied on the quack remedies that they had done before the scheme came in to force. The sad truth was that despite the advances in Medicine that had taken place, most people could not access it. The major problems with NHI showed themselves in the 1930s during the Great Depression when so many were out of work, and so many accounts in arrears (upwards of 4 million) that the companies running the schemes made no profit, which was compounded when the government reduced its contribution.

The turning point came with the Second World War. The Government were in possession of some rather terrifying figures about expected casualty rates as a result of any enemy bombing action, which thankfully never came to pass, though the Government did not know this at the start of the war. ( Expected Casualties (because I found this during my dissertation research and I think it's really interesting) ) As a result the Government planned various strategies to deal with the expected casualties (including a stockpile of cardboard coffins). The one relevant to this "History of the NHS", is the Emergency Hospital Scheme, which was funded and run by the Government and was "designed to serve the purpose of a moment" - to look after those injured in the war, especially bombing victims. Under this scheme any treatment needed, including hospitalisation, was free. It was during this period, in 1942, the the Beveridge Report was published which proposed a "free national health service" as a way of combating the five 'Giant Evils' of Want, Disease, Ignorance, Squalor and Idleness. The Conservatives, who nominally had the majority in the Commons at this time (though there was actually a "Government of National Unity" in power) refused to commit to putting in place the reforms, which was one of the reasons why they were beaten so comprehensively by the Labour party in the 1945 General Election. One of their first acts when they got in to power was the 1946 National Health Service Act, which provided in law for a free and comprehensive health care system.

The first day of this National Health Service was to be 5th July 1948 but there was an enormous amount of work that had to take place before it could start, including the nationalisation of Hospitals, the creation of health centres, the better/fairer distribution of doctors around the country and the creation of a new salary structure. On top of all this work, there was a huge amount of opposition (as with any large and sudden change). Most Local Authorities and Charitable Organisations who had previously run hospitals were opposed, as were doctors, who did not want to be employed by the government, or told where to work. In fact, at the beginning of 1948 90% of doctors said that they would not co-operate with the NHS. There was also opposition from many who were scared by the huge costs involved, but Aneurin Bevan who was Minister for Health at this time argued that Britain could afford it, and had to afford it. Bevan worked extremely hard to ensure the creation of the NHS, and by hook or by crook (he allowed doctors to work for the NHS and keep private patients while getting the public to sign up with doctors for the NHS - if a doctor didn't sign the form, he risked losing the patient [and the funding that came with them] to a doctor who would), made sure that over 90% of doctors had signed up by the opening day.

The benefits of the NHS were visible very quickly, especially in those groups which had not been covered until its creation. Maternal and infant mortality levels fell very quickly and life expectancy rose, especially as the new techniques and drugs (such as Penicillin) became available at no cost to people who would have died for want of them.

In 2008 we're looking at:
* An average life expectancy of 77 years, with more and more living until 100.
* An average of 5.2 out of every 1000 babies dying before the age of 1 (0.52%) [figures from 2006]
* Everyone can see a doctor, irrespective of whether they can pay

What I'm trying to say in an incredibly long winded way is that the NHS may not be perfect, but in comparison to what we have had before it is amazing, and I sometimes think we lose sight of just how brilliant it is amongst all the complaining about the things that are wrong and the compromises that sometimes have to be made.

My dad was chronically ill with Type 1 Diabetes most of his life, and we did not have to pay towards his care. His final illness and the two weeks spent in intensive care did not bankrupt us. My sister was born 15 weeks prematurely and spent her 16 hours of life receiving the best care available in 1982, and my parents were not left with a crippling bill as well as a dead daughter. When my mum hurt her back and she was in bed for 6 weeks her care (a physio, home help twice a day, doctors visits, nurse visits) did not cost us. When my mum was pregnant with me and was kept in hospital for most of those 9 months my parents did not have to check her out because they were worried about the cost, nor did they have to worry about the bill they were getting at the end. When I was ill with depression I did not have to worry about the cost of my prescriptions or my counselling. The times Phil has injured himself we have not had to worry about the bill from the Hospital for getting him checked out. Ben and I have not had to worry that while I've been off work I've been without coverage for my health (or traded electricity/food/rent for insurance coverage).

I think there's a lot to be said for that. So Happy Birthday NHS, here's to many many more.

ETA: Pretty much 1500 words. I wrote as much as that in some of my degree essays. Sorry guys!

ETA2 (2011): Since I wrote this my mum died from a rare form of Cancer. Her care was second to none and nothing was denied her on grounds of cost. We were not left with crippling bills, and not having to worry about finding money for her care made her last weeks and days easier for everyone.

(or, I hope that medical professionals have more boring lives than their fictional counterparts)

I came home yesterday after my appointment with my doctor and counsellor and watched an episode of Holby City because I had nothing better to do. As I watched I found myself hoping beyond hope that real doctors have very dull lives, for the sake of my health and that of those around me. The reason for this was the storyline:

Doctor A has a gambling problem and has to borrow money from Doctor B (who has a crush on Dr D). At this point Doctor A's son (who is in medical school) comes in with Pneumonia brought on by his Heroin use requiring an operation (or his heart will go septic or something), and is about to be operated on by Doctor C, who has recently had brain surgery to control his parkinsons, but just as the patient is going south the parkinsons reasserts itself and Doctor C has to bow out, to be replaced by Doctor D, who is an alcoholic and thinking only of his romantic problems with his therapist, Doctor E, who is about to go to new york. The Anesthetist, Doctor F has just come off suspension having been falsely accused of rape by a patient. Eventually, despite all these problems, the patient survives to use heroin another day, while Dr A continues to gamble his life away, Dr B continues to mope after Dr D, who has run off to New York with Dr E and Dr C finds out his father has just died.

The "B" plot is just as ridiculous (Dr G is having an affair with his mother in law [a secretary at the hospital], shortly after his wife [a sister on another ward] has delivered their stillborn baby...).

All this led me to hope that my drs and other medical professionals with anything to do with me live in dull houses in suburbia, doing nothing in the evenings at all. Luckily I have a sense of perspective - I know that people don't really have lives like that...

Do they?

( Typing speed meme )

( What my name means )

I went to the doctor's today and had a good appt. Booked in again for a couplea weeks time, just before I go home for easter. She's a nice doctor and I'm glad I went even if I didn't want to before hand.

Am on the up now, my mood climbing a bit at a time. Had a bad afternoon yesterday. Had been really bouncy in the morning then at lunchtime I started spiralling down and didn't pull out of it till very late.

Yesterday as a whole was actually a good day, despite the mood spiral. I was pleased with myself for being able to write a 3000 word essay with IRC in the background and cos Sue was off sick I had a chance to talk to and play with paul which is always good cos whne he's in a good mood he cheers me up. Yesterday he was telling me about trees and how cutting them down killed them and doing all the actions and things nad tho I could only understand half the stuff he said (he's only 3) it was still great fun. He also said he liked me :)

I had a very positive meeting about my Speical Subject in Rutherford Upper Senior Common Room which is a really nice room and recognisable as the place where my UCAS stuff took place ;) It's got a beautiful view cos its at the very top of the building and am now getting quite excited about the course.

There are more Guys than Girls (not surprising for a topic that's partly military history, but I can tell by the way that at least one of them speaks to me that he is sexist... or at least looks down on me *git*) but still should be cool.

Have option of a 6000 word diss instead of the primary evidence paper which sounds good and if I do that together with te other modules I'm planning to do I should only have one exam next year. He says if we don't egt it done on time we won't be penalised, just reregistered for the exam instead. We will be having a trip to Ypres and also to the IWM and NAM. I've been to all these places before but they're great so I'm looking forward to going again and seeing them from a different perspective.

Ben and I had a nice cuddle together and he forced me to go out tho I didn't want to and that was good for me cos it started to help me pull out of how I was feeling. Foo and rah cooked nice meal of spag bol type things (tho too many carrots) and then crumpets and chocolate spread for afters (inspired by Paul's breakfast ;))

Went to bed as soon as got in...was very very tired and as a consequence got 10 and a half hours sleep or so. As a consequence of that I woke up on my own at 5:30 and got to doze for 30 mins or so which was a nice luxury. Was out of the house on time and did the hill all in one go which made me feel both tired and accomplished and even had time to photograph some frogspawn ben and I noticed a few days ago and have been watching develop. Can't wait till they hatch and become tadpoles. I want even more to see them as frogs cos I like frogs - they remind me of my pet frog Roger from when I was 8 :)

I went to the doctor's today and had a good appt. Booked in again for a couplea weeks time, just before I go home for easter. She's a nice doctor and I'm glad I went even if I didn't want to before hand.

Am on the up now, my mood climbing a bit at a time. Had a bad afternoon yesterday. Had been really bouncy in the morning then at lunchtime I started spiralling down and didn't pull out of it till very late.

Yesterday as a whole was actually a good day, despite the mood spiral. I was pleased with myself for being able to write a 3000 word essay with IRC in the background and cos Sue was off sick I had a chance to talk to and play with paul which is always good cos whne he's in a good mood he cheers me up. Yesterday he was telling me about trees and how cutting them down killed them and doing all the actions and things nad tho I could only understand half the stuff he said (he's only 3) it was still great fun. He also said he liked me :)

I had a very positive meeting about my Speical Subject in Rutherford Upper Senior Common Room which is a really nice room and recognisable as the place where my UCAS stuff took place ;) It's got a beautiful view cos its at the very top of the building and am now getting quite excited about the course.

There are more Guys than Girls (not surprising for a topic that's partly military history, but I can tell by the way that at least one of them speaks to me that he is sexist... or at least looks down on me *git*) but still should be cool.

Have option of a 6000 word diss instead of the primary evidence paper which sounds good and if I do that together with te other modules I'm planning to do I should only have one exam next year. He says if we don't egt it done on time we won't be penalised, just reregistered for the exam instead. We will be having a trip to Ypres and also to the IWM and NAM. I've been to all these places before but they're great so I'm looking forward to going again and seeing them from a different perspective.

Ben and I had a nice cuddle together and he forced me to go out tho I didn't want to and that was good for me cos it started to help me pull out of how I was feeling. Foo and rah cooked nice meal of spag bol type things (tho too many carrots) and then crumpets and chocolate spread for afters (inspired by Paul's breakfast ;))

Went to bed as soon as got in...was very very tired and as a consequence got 10 and a half hours sleep or so. As a consequence of that I woke up on my own at 5:30 and got to doze for 30 mins or so which was a nice luxury. Was out of the house on time and did the hill all in one go which made me feel both tired and accomplished and even had time to photograph some frogspawn ben and I noticed a few days ago and have been watching develop. Can't wait till they hatch and become tadpoles. I want even more to see them as frogs cos I like frogs - they remind me of my pet frog Roger from when I was 8 :)