The good news is, the cat is better. It took a month, and she had to be anaesthetised so they could wash out the wound properly, x-ray it to make sure there was nothing in there (there wasn’t) and take a swab to establish exactly what was going on in there. Result – bacteroides which needed a different antibiotic injection. Now she has no cone collar, she’s very, very happy, and back to normal. Even, dare I say it, slightly more affectionate than usual. That translates into allowing a slightly longer cuddle each day than the regulation ten seconds.

The bad news is, I’m not well at all. Some sort of chest infection or other. No voice for the last seventeen days, coughing like a bastard, very weak, achy, shaky, tired and weepy. I am trying to at least shower each day, but can’t always manage it. I’ve cancelled everything I was going to do, and am just pathetic. I’m taking 40mg Prednisone – last dose of the fourteen days on Sunday. Also 100 mg Doxycyline which I absolutely hate, but are the only thing that work, last dose of the seven days on Monday. I’m really, really hoping that by the middle of next week I’ll feel like a normal person. Or at least on the way there. Or at least the blood pressure and pulse rate will be down and more like normal.

My mother meanwhile has bashed and cut her shin badly, which is not good news at 83. Twenty-two steristrips and a large dressing. I can only contact her by text, and she says she’s doing fine, but of course she would say that because she is as brave as a lion. As soon as I’m better enough hubby will take me over and we will do whatever she needs us to do. In the interim, my sister, who lives locally but works full time in a very busy job, has had to manage it all. Damn and blast.

Then I was too ill go to to Logan’s first birthday party. Ex-hubby had offered to take me and YD (now heavily pregnant) down to Southampton for the day, and they did actually go, but I was just too poorly. Even Facetime/Skype was a bit difficult, what with me having no voice! but Logan is just a joy to us all.

Today I had to go back to bed at 10 am, woke at 1.30pm, and had a cursory shower/hair-wash. I can’t cope with the usual moisturising face/arms/legs at the moment, just too much.

Can’t knit. Can’t even pick up the guitar. Reading is something I can do in short bursts. Thank goodness I’ve done all the Xmas presents. Don’t even talk to me about the tree. That goes up the week before Christmas, and not a moment before.

I feel as if I’ve fallen off the small social world I do have. I’ve been out of the house to go to the doctors’ three times in the past two weeks, and am due again on Wednesday. But am not up to driving, so wonderful hubby has to take me. Phhhhh.

Oh. And the cat peed in the car before I got ill, so now my car stinks of cat pee, despite my feeble attempts to sort that out. And now I’m not well enough to do anything about it. I do have a plan, which involves a special valet service, but it’ll have to wait till I can drive at least.

YD has stopped work. Yesterday. Hooray! time for her to put her feet up.

Hopefully, my next blog will be a little bit more cheerful!