Well the new tablets are certainly having a weird and wonderful effect.
I spent most of yesterday drifting in and out of sleep and after three failed attempts to watch White Christmas, and missing most of it, I switched to music and listened to bits of Jesus Christ Superstar instead. Well it's sort of appropriate for the time of year.
Of course all the daytime sleeping meant I was wide awake at ten and so stayed up to watch the Lockerbie documentary. Gosh I remember this event so clearly. Laurence was three months old and I was giving him his late night feed while Peter was checking the doors and windows prior to going to bed. I'd just asked Peter to turn the TV off when the news flash came on. As a result we stayed up until around two or three in the morning just watching in horror as more details began to emerge. At the time it was one of the biggest acts of terrorism the UK and America had ever experienced. Decades later America learnt the hard way that it could be surpassed and I've no doubt some future event will overshadow 9/11 too.
It was almost one when I eventually put down my book and, to my utter surprise, dropped off like a stone off a cliff. It was then that I had the most wonderful, fantastic dream I've ever had.
I was running through open fields, I am always fit in my dreams, I don't think my subconscious accepts my actual physical state, and the grass is like that of Lords. Flat smooth and a vivid green. I'm with two other people but I cannot see them, I only know they are there and I can hear voices. I'm climbing over a fence and in the corner of the field is a large rock or boulder. Carved in the boulder is a door and across the door at three slats of wood, also painted green. I pull the slats away and enter the rock. It gets a bit Dr Who here as the inside is a lot bigger than the outside. Inside the rock are three shelves two on one wall and one on the other at right angles to each other. On each bed there is a pillow and a duvet. Despite no windows or artificial lights it is very bright and I can't stay in for long as my eyes are hurting. I come out and I'm suddenly in a room sitting at a table. My companions are still with me but but still out of sight. There is a table in the middle of the room and a very important looking man is sitting at it. It takes me a few minutes to realise I'm being questioned about a car theft, shades of The Bill. I'm lead out of a door on the other side of the room and I'm back in the field only now it is dark and the field is ablaze (Lockerbie) and I'm running as fast as I can but I'm impeded by something that keeps wrapping itself around my legs. I fight to pull it off and find it is a teachers' gown (Harry Potter) I keep running until my heart is pounding and I can't catch my breath. I heard pounding like horses hooves so I stop and turn to look behind me and...wake up.
For a minute I don't know where I am but I can still heard the thundering of hooves. I sit up and listen. The sound is sporadic and now sounds more like an elephant charging around. I'm just about to get up to look out of the window when I hear a mew and suddenly I know what it is. Andrew had given Smirnoff a large brown toy mouse earlier in the day which Smirnoff had now chosen to play with, rather vigorously, at five in the morning, in our bedroom. He was having the time of his life and I nearly had a flaming heart attack. I found the mouse and threw it downstairs and Smirnoff charged after it. Back in bed I dropped off very quickly again and was soon back in the field with the stone hut. I was on my own this time and it was beautiful. I lay on my back on the grass and the sun shone down on my face and I felt totally at peace. I was so at peace that I had real difficulty waking up. Even now sitting here with the reality of my situation fully exposed in the light of day I'm wishing I could go back to that happy place. If anyone reading this can tell me what this all means, please feel free.
So how am I feeling. Well apart from having weird dreams, courtesy of the antibiotics, I'm pretty much the same. My throat is still bright red but feels more comfortable thank to the mouthwash. It may smell of cat pee and it tastes truly terrible but it seems to be doing the trick. I'm sort of hoping to be back in work tomorrow but will take it one day at a time. I'm sure my colleagues would rather I was fit and well for my Christmas shifts than force myself in when I'm not ready this week.
I had a call from the Brompton this morning. It seems there is still a chance I will get my meds changed as planned after all. Carl is pushing and pushing for this to happen and will either ring or email when he has more news. As it stands my hospital admission for the first week in January still stands so that's a glimmer of hope to latch onto. It is so nice to be looked after by someone who genuinely cares.
In the news it's been a busy week for celebrity deaths.
First up was Peter O'Toole, the man with the most beautiful blue eyes in history. In this day and age his looks would have mattered more than his talent and he'd have probably ended up modeling for some perfume company. As it is he was an outrageous hell raiser who's private life lead to more headlines than his acting. Certainly not the image wanted by Chanel or Hugo Boss. However unlike some of today's 'stars' he will be long remembered as on of the greats.
Next we have Joan Fontaine, not an actress that has ever really been on my radar. Again she was more famous for her life long feud with her sister Olivia De Havilland.
Today news has come through that the 'Great Train Robber' Ronnie Biggs has died at the age of 84. Ronnie is probably the best known of the criminal gang having managed to escape and live in Brazil for 36 years. Gallingly he only returned to this country when he wanted something from it. His health started to fail and he'd more or less run out of money so back he came so the taxpayers he'd stolen from could pay for his treatment and his care. True he did go back to gaol for eight years but however you look at it, he was the one who got away.
Right time to slosh my mouth out with more cat pee, joy!
I spent most of yesterday drifting in and out of sleep and after three failed attempts to watch White Christmas, and missing most of it, I switched to music and listened to bits of Jesus Christ Superstar instead. Well it's sort of appropriate for the time of year.
It was almost one when I eventually put down my book and, to my utter surprise, dropped off like a stone off a cliff. It was then that I had the most wonderful, fantastic dream I've ever had.
I was running through open fields, I am always fit in my dreams, I don't think my subconscious accepts my actual physical state, and the grass is like that of Lords. Flat smooth and a vivid green. I'm with two other people but I cannot see them, I only know they are there and I can hear voices. I'm climbing over a fence and in the corner of the field is a large rock or boulder. Carved in the boulder is a door and across the door at three slats of wood, also painted green. I pull the slats away and enter the rock. It gets a bit Dr Who here as the inside is a lot bigger than the outside. Inside the rock are three shelves two on one wall and one on the other at right angles to each other. On each bed there is a pillow and a duvet. Despite no windows or artificial lights it is very bright and I can't stay in for long as my eyes are hurting. I come out and I'm suddenly in a room sitting at a table. My companions are still with me but but still out of sight. There is a table in the middle of the room and a very important looking man is sitting at it. It takes me a few minutes to realise I'm being questioned about a car theft, shades of The Bill. I'm lead out of a door on the other side of the room and I'm back in the field only now it is dark and the field is ablaze (Lockerbie) and I'm running as fast as I can but I'm impeded by something that keeps wrapping itself around my legs. I fight to pull it off and find it is a teachers' gown (Harry Potter) I keep running until my heart is pounding and I can't catch my breath. I heard pounding like horses hooves so I stop and turn to look behind me and...wake up.
For a minute I don't know where I am but I can still heard the thundering of hooves. I sit up and listen. The sound is sporadic and now sounds more like an elephant charging around. I'm just about to get up to look out of the window when I hear a mew and suddenly I know what it is. Andrew had given Smirnoff a large brown toy mouse earlier in the day which Smirnoff had now chosen to play with, rather vigorously, at five in the morning, in our bedroom. He was having the time of his life and I nearly had a flaming heart attack. I found the mouse and threw it downstairs and Smirnoff charged after it. Back in bed I dropped off very quickly again and was soon back in the field with the stone hut. I was on my own this time and it was beautiful. I lay on my back on the grass and the sun shone down on my face and I felt totally at peace. I was so at peace that I had real difficulty waking up. Even now sitting here with the reality of my situation fully exposed in the light of day I'm wishing I could go back to that happy place. If anyone reading this can tell me what this all means, please feel free.
So how am I feeling. Well apart from having weird dreams, courtesy of the antibiotics, I'm pretty much the same. My throat is still bright red but feels more comfortable thank to the mouthwash. It may smell of cat pee and it tastes truly terrible but it seems to be doing the trick. I'm sort of hoping to be back in work tomorrow but will take it one day at a time. I'm sure my colleagues would rather I was fit and well for my Christmas shifts than force myself in when I'm not ready this week.
I had a call from the Brompton this morning. It seems there is still a chance I will get my meds changed as planned after all. Carl is pushing and pushing for this to happen and will either ring or email when he has more news. As it stands my hospital admission for the first week in January still stands so that's a glimmer of hope to latch onto. It is so nice to be looked after by someone who genuinely cares.
In the news it's been a busy week for celebrity deaths.
First up was Peter O'Toole, the man with the most beautiful blue eyes in history. In this day and age his looks would have mattered more than his talent and he'd have probably ended up modeling for some perfume company. As it is he was an outrageous hell raiser who's private life lead to more headlines than his acting. Certainly not the image wanted by Chanel or Hugo Boss. However unlike some of today's 'stars' he will be long remembered as on of the greats.
Next we have Joan Fontaine, not an actress that has ever really been on my radar. Again she was more famous for her life long feud with her sister Olivia De Havilland.
Today news has come through that the 'Great Train Robber' Ronnie Biggs has died at the age of 84. Ronnie is probably the best known of the criminal gang having managed to escape and live in Brazil for 36 years. Gallingly he only returned to this country when he wanted something from it. His health started to fail and he'd more or less run out of money so back he came so the taxpayers he'd stolen from could pay for his treatment and his care. True he did go back to gaol for eight years but however you look at it, he was the one who got away.
Right time to slosh my mouth out with more cat pee, joy!
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