Lexin

Opal (the tabby cat) is worrying me.

She has scabs on her rump, and on her leg, and more rough bits on her tummy. A footle through the internet makes me think it’s allergy to fleas, though there are other things it could be, some of them nasty.

I tried to get her a vet appointment today, but they are busy and offered me one tomorrow. So she’s going to the vet at Llandygai tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I will give her cuddles. Poor kitty, being itchy is horrible, as I know only too well.

Me

My injuries from the scalds are mostly healed except for the one on my tummy. That one is lingering like an unwanted guest.

My friend aunty_marion and I are watching something called “Arrow” and all the actors seem as if they were printed in a factory near Hollywood. We can barely tell one from another - and both of us have prosopagnosia.

Still, Happy New Year!

I've been reading - binge reading - Kathy Reichs "Temperance Brennan" books. She's the same character who heads up "Bones" but completely different stories. Rather enjoyable, though sometimes a bit scary.

In other news, I have a theoretical appointment for an MRI test on Sunday at Ysbyty Glan Clwyd near Rhyl. Problem is that (a) Rhyl is 60 miles from where I live (b) hospital transport is only available on weekdays and (c) there is no train service on Sunday, only rail replacement bus service - and that is about once an hour.

So tomorrow I will be ringing the x-ray department and trying to get the date changed. Everything is wrong with doing it on a Sunday in Rhyl.

I'm not too bad.

I've been diagnosed with a new illness, it's called "chronic paroxysmal hemicrania" and they treat it by injecting something into the back of my head.

I ended up this afternoon dealing with a friend calling me from Malta and trying to explain how I can lose a lot of weight. He's one of those thin people who think losing weight is easy. It was really hard work dealing with him.

This morning I discover that after my fall yesterday, I have bruised my nose.

I don't even remember hitting my head.

Party are still searching the Plunging Torrents – they went up a level, most of them, which was nice for them. They spent ages fighting endless ice mephits. Mephits can call on other mephits from the elemental plane of water, which can make them hard to fight as they keep renewing themselves.

In other news

I went to the dentist on Friday, for my second treatment for gum disease. Do not get gum disease, the treatment is excruciatingly painful.

I discovered on Tuesday that there is such a thing as prescription toothpaste. I have been struggling with pain in a tooth on my lower left jaw and the dentist says he doesn’t know what’s causing it as the ‘tooth’ is actually a crown, and should have no nerve. So he’s prescribed special toothpaste to treat the gum by reducing the pain. I have to clean my teeth with this stuff, and then spread it on the gum. But I’m not supposed to swallow it. How you can do both of these things, I’m not sure.

aunty_marion went home on Tuesday, which was a particularly rainy and windy day. We had a lovely few weeks over Christmas and New Year, eating lots and watching exciting things on TV. We watched both lots of Gilbert and Sullivan (as previously posted) and action movies.

We washed Smokey’s fluffy pink bed because we thought it unbecoming a handsome cat, and since then she’s used it exactly twice even though I sprayed it liberally with catnip. I don’t think she likes a clean bed, she liked it all catty and grungy.

Encouraged by aunty_marion I also bought some shelves for my kitchen from Ikea, which should arrive tomorrow and will be built and installed hopefully on Monday. I had asked for Saturday, but Taskrabbit couldn’t accommodate Saturday. They are more hopeful for Monday. In the meantime I’ve asked my local handyman if he can help, just in case they let me down again.

Yesterday I went to Llandudno to the hospital there. I’ve been waiting nervously for a dermatology appointment, but they first wanted to send me to Glan Clwyd, which is along the coast near Rhyl. I said ‘think again’ because Rhyl is about 40 minutes away by train and I don’t think the hospital is near the station.

Then they call me and offer my Llandudno General, which is closer. Even so, it takes four lots of taxis and a train – home to the station, train to Llandudno Junction, Llandudno Junction station to Llandudno hospital then reverse the process. I could, in theory, go by bus, but that would involve a lot of walking from the bus stops in Llandudno to the hospital which I can’t do these days.

The weird thing on my face was diagnosed as a wart (I knew I was turning into a witch!) and the dermatologist used a cold thingy containing freezing nitrogen to freeze it off. So I travelled home feeling as if I’d been kicked in the face by a buffalo. That pain seems to have passed off today. I’m told it will turn into a scab and drop off.

So that’s my news.

I am home, having successfully negotiated cancelled trains and extremely hot weather and sailed very close to a hypoglycaemic episode out in public, which would have seen me sent to hospital in a strange town and told off by strange doctors.

I was saved from myself by an excellent woman at Chester, who knew exactly what to do - have me sit in a cool room, and give me water and something sweet to eat. Then she saw me safely on the Bangor train, and phoned ahead so that the staff at Bangor would be expecting me.

Smokey was thrilled to see me home, her little tail quivering with joy. Now she’s had treats and cuddles, of course, I’m surplus to kitty requirements.

The reason I was there

The memorial for legionseagle went off very well, and saw many of the crabbyoldbats, people having come from as far away as France shezan and the Netherlands to celebrate a life well lived, but ended far, far too soon.

I didn't say anything - there were some lovely speeches from people from all aspects of legionseagle's life including her colleagues and her sailing friends. I just didn't trust myself not to weep copiously. I did enough of that at other people's speeches.

The night before the memorial I had the most glorious dream that she was alive again and it had all been a mistake. Never have I been so sad to wake up and find a dream not to be true.

I will miss her forever. She was one of the best.

Well, I’ll be off to Ysbyty Gwynedd tomorrow to see what outcome my latest operation has had. I was there on 4 November for the second operation. That went well and I came out of the anaesthesia fit as a flea and wanting to go home. I arrived at the hospital at 07:30, was in the operating theatre at 09:30 and arrive home at 15:00 while it was still light, very much surprising my worthy friend who was here to look after me as she’d been expecting it to be like the first operation when they didn’t let me out for hours and I arrived home close on midnight.

Irritatingly the buses are on strike in my area – they went on strike on 5 November and expect the strike to last until 19 December. I had no idea about this until my cleaner arrived today and told me about it. I would have been completely blindsided had she not mentioned it. Most annoying as I rely on the buses to get me in and out of town – it’s just too far for me to walk it. So any shopping won’t happen until 19 December, unless the strike is called off.

My sympathies are with the drivers. Bus drives in Wales are paid £10 an hour, whereas in England they are paid £13. I can see why the Welsh drivers are pissed off.

I don’t have much other news.

I am currently playing and enjoying “The Witcher”, which is a game that has been around for quite a long time but only recently came to my attention. It’s great fun.

I’m selling Dungeons and Dragons: Dark Alliance. It cost me £54, an arm and a leg, but I bounced off it hard. I really don’t like online play, and, talking to my friend Graham’s niece Catriona, who hopes to be a game designer, I’m not the only one. She doesn’t like it and games are her life.

Smokey is still a cuddly kitty, currently hiding from the cleaner.

I’m somewhat grumpy.

I’ve been put on insulin for my diabetes. The nurse was rather critical of my diet (“I can’t polish a turd”) and suggests I need to sort it out. Which, agreed, I do. But I’m still grumpy about it.