So

I have had the tab open to write a catch up entry for more than a week.

Too tired.

I need to be less broken.

Wasted days

 I did little today.

I showered solely as my bandage had come lose and I needed to change it and thought I should be clean for the new one.

I wasted too much time watching bad netflix shite.  The Coming Out Colton thing where Netflix paid for a ridiculously privileged guy with an abuse past to have the world's most supported coming out.  And the Tiger King spinoff about the other villainous tiger trainer guy.

Such a wasted day.

In such a wasted life.

Oh look, I failed to do this in almost a month.......

Wow, my haircut was almost a month ago.  It still seems new.

Mostly the change in meds made me sleepy.  So sleepy.  Thus I have had a pretty low-key month.

The morning after I wrote last, I had to go to the pharmacy in the morning to pick up a script.  Leaving the house is always too much effort.  That afternoon the guy who calls me his boyfriend finished his exams and kidnapped me off to Port Chalmers for the night.  Dinner cooked by his mother followed by too much ice cream and curling up to a movie.  I think that might be the night when we fell asleep failing to watch Quills.

I didn't make it home until mid-afternoon meds time the next day (forced by having not packed meds for more than a full day out of my house - he wanted to keep me out there for longer).

I didn't leave the house for the next few days.  Too exhausted.  I spent the time playing Shin Megami Tensei V (or just lying on the floor for hours on end) while listening to the audiobook of Robert Jordan's The Eye of the World. I did not love it.  Not even convinced it was better than Foundation, which I had listened to at the start of the week.  Because I wanted books covered before I started on the TV shows based on them.

On the evening of Monday 22nd I finally left my flat, to go to D&D.

Tuesday I had brainpoking.  It was supposed to be discussing 'vocation' - which is apparently something I need to be thinking about more.  But having rather rapidly fallen into something with the trappings of a relationship since I had last seen him, it became the focus.  My psychodynamic psychotherapist (he didn't like it when I said I described him as my brain-poker) called me out on falling into some unhealthy old patterns.  This was half-fair.

I started the second Wheel of Time audiobook, The Great Hunt, on Wednesday.

On Thursday I went to Adjø with Midget for lunch.  Hipster danish open sandwiches.  I got the danish meatball one.  It was good.

Friday I got a message from my dad saying he was coming to town.  So that evening I went for dinner with him and my sister Evelyn.  We went to Mela Eatery before going to the movies and seeing the new Venom film.  It was fun but terrible.  The guy who calls me his boyfriend was fortunately busy.

He was not busy the next day and somehow I ended up bringing him for lunch with my family.  We went to the Speight's Ale House and dad and Ev were both too keen to get along with him.  It was alright, I guess.  But..... eh.  We all went to Eternals.  Then I hung out with the guy who called me his boyfriends for the evening.  Picked up his shopping with him.  Was introduced to his ex in an only mildly awkward social engagement at her house.

I got dropped home at 0550 on Sunday morning as the guy who calls me his boyfriend headed to his early Sunday morning job.

Monday evening I didn't have D&D but the guy who calls me his boyfriend invited me to get dinner with him as his step daughter (who I had not yet met).  I agreed.  It was only once I was in his car on the way there that he admitted we were going to his daughter's 16th birthday celebration, and thus a bunch of family would be there.  I was not happy about the misleading invite, and not having a gift.  Or being dressed as nicely as I would have for a birthday.

So the start of my first brainpoking session that was actually about vocation started off with a vent about being dragged to a sweet 16th under false pretences.  But then there was a long chat about how productive I should be, with some confusion  when I explained how sick I actually am in more detail than I had before.  Apparently it all fit with my neurology reports, while also not at all what the records had implied.  It was awkward but maybe only in my head.  And afterwards I swung past the sexual health clinic to repeat the test the lab messed up the first time (the one for chlamydia, it came back clear obviously).  My phone tells me I went with the guy who calls me his boyfriend to get his scripts from the pharmacy that evening.  I am trying to remember if I went to his that night...  No wait.  This is the week I had HelloFresh and on the Tuesday evening I made "Korean-glazed Beef Strips" for the two of us and actually ate the meal at my dining table.  I think it is the first meal I have had at that table since I moved flat.

On Wednesday I missed quiz again, for no better excuse that I had HelloFresh to use.  HelloFresh really wasn't for me.  I have too many food intolerances.  The website wasn't giving the correct discounts and was too annoying to use.  And the food was all so fucking messy to cook.  My kitchen took more damage from four HelloFresh meals than it has from nine months of my regular semi-messy cooking.  Also, just too much effort when I was far too tired.

Thursday I had dinner with Simon and Firmin at Nando's.  Joe was too cool for us and we had no hanging out afterwards.

Friday, I was off to Pakkers to get there and realise I had utterly forgotten what I had gone to the supermarket for, when the guy who calls me his boyfriend messaged to know where I was.  He ended up picking me up from the supermarket - swinging past my house so I could grab stuff before I went to his place for the night.  Though we did come back in to town for dinner at Sampan after I decided against trying to cook my last HelloFresh bag in his kitchen.  Using a strange kitchen is not the most fun.

Then home of Saturday afternoon for a weekend of Stellaris (which I have been playing a lot of since the Aquatic DLC came out) and recovering from his being too much.

On Monday I installed Anniversary Edition Skyrim and was sorting mods before I played.  This led to as kitchen accident.  I had left the fry pan on the heat far too long so when I poured a bit of oil in it started boiling almost instantly and then when I dropped a chunk of tofu in it 'sploded and I got hit with oil that burnt some of my skin onto the t-shirt I was wearing.  So I have belly of pretty nasty burn.

The guy who calls me his boyfriend came almost the moment I told him it had happened and attempted some first aid beyond the icepack approach I had taken.  I think at this stage he may be transitioning in to actually being my boyfriend (which is a terrible plan for a bunch of reasons).  He brought a client/friend of his who he had been with when he got the message along.  I don't love having guests.  People in my house is stressful, and strangers are much worse.  But he had me gladwrapped up for a bit to keep air off the burn - which did reduce the pain.

By the time I went to D&D that night I had gone with a big Advanced Healing BandAid for the plastic complete seal over it.  We had Japanese takeaways and played a very story/social D&D session.  I think all my rolls were Deception and Persuasion checks.

Tuesday, brainpoking.  Even though it was the most recent one, I can't think what we actually talked about.  I think we wrapped up the vocation discussion, but I think the rest might have just been me waffling too much.

I spent Wednesday helping Carla do her Christmas shopping for her husband. It was good to get out.  In the evening Firmin and Claire came around to play the Dragon Prince boardgame I bought and which it turns out I just entirely don't enjoy.  Also turns out one of the parts came broken and I should complain to the company, but effort.  (And I just sent a complaint email.  I have been working on this entry for over nine hours - why is writing anything so hard today - I have wasted the day it is almost bedtime and I am still on the lunch time quick-task-before-I-play-some-Skyrim.)

Thursday, I left the house to get lunch with Oli.  I should have supermarketed at some point but I didn't.  I achieved nothing useful.  But did play some Skyrim...

Friday and today have been at home in PJs the whole days.  The guy who I guess I should just call my boyfriend visited both days in attempts to seduce me into going to his place.  But too tired.

Partially tired from the meds, which seems to be ongoing.

More specifically tired as I changed the bandage on my burns yesterday and it was a reminder in how much pain my I suppressing on a daily basis and that my pain tolerance has limits.  By last night my migraine and surgical site were both hurting in ways that made it very clear how much work my meat sack is doing to trick my consciousness into thinking it is worth staying alive from day to day.

Also, wow.  My neck is not as healed as I liked to think.

How fucking long does healing take after surgery?

Dosage changes again

So the day after I last wrote I had a date thing in the evening.  Me and the guy who is calling himself my boyfriend got KFC.  The drive-thru staff messed up my order - obviously.  I shouted both our meals as I was feeling very uncomfortable about his offer to pay for mine (Shitlord baggage in action). He had just dragged me back to his to hang out (and he'd been very unsubtle about wanting me to sleep over) when his older daughter demanded a ride across town.  His mother came along for a big old family outing with me in the middle of it.  On what probably counts as a second date.

After dropping of the daughter, we went with his mother to Nova for coffees.  I think I may get on with his mother better than I do with him.

I didn't get home until almost three on the Sunday.

Fortunately he had a busy week, so my Monday was just my regular D&D outing.  Tuesday was nothing at all as my brain-poker was working nights for the week.  Wednesday he grabbed me to go with him while he picked up his cat from the vet - turned out he had decided he needed to hold a man's hand in public and didn't entirely give me a say in the matter.  It is sweet-ish, but it is a bit much.  In the evening I went to quiz at New New New and won.  As one does.

Thursday I had sorted to go to the sexual health clinic for the entering a new relationship full list check.  I haven't done anything of note in the two years since the post-Shitlord test but I never got the three month retest.  So now it should be sorted.  As of writing this I have not heard back about results, really expected them to come yesterday.

In the evening I had Nando's with Simon, Joe and Firmin.  There were some concerns raised about my current thing (relationship? fling? tryst?).  But not many as I sanitized things so as to not horrify sweet innocent Firmin.

Friday I did nothing but get grumpy a pre-lease day delivery hadn't been sent yet, and once it was it had no way of reaching me on the day.

Saturday, Dalton came around to swap books.  He is pushing me to read Rivers of London (has lent me a bag for of the series).  In the evening the-guy-who-is-calling-himself-my-boyfriend turned up pretty late to borrow me for a weird sleep over.  It was really just sleep before being dropped home at dawn as he starts work early on Sunday.  I don't entirely see what was in it for him except a bed warmer, was too late at night and the early morning warning too strong to do anything - not even talk much.

Didn't leave the house between then and brain-poking today.  Which ended up just being about how I have fallen in with someone who is a lot.  And how I am falling in to some of my old traps - but at least with someone very different to Shitlord.

I did get a phone call from a nurse (and since then a clarifying message from the locum looking after me) to change back to the thyroxine dose that fail the first time - because reasons.  So fun.

Oh yeah, also got my hair cut on the way home from brain-poking.  Pretty much exactly same fade as last time.  But, this time, paid for by loyalty card.

Why is remembering to write this thing so hard.

I had a panic spiral tonight.  Realised it was happening when I noticed I was eating a bunch of feelings and had to back engineer from there.  My psychotherapist is trying to get me to be better at naming my feelings - but it is still very much a work in progress.

It sort of makes sense, but there is stuff to catch up on for that.

I went to Central with Oli and his family.  It was mostly good though his four year old did punch me in my freshly exposed and very tender throat.  Twice.

Four year olds are arseholes.  Which may be why I didn't actually feel as bad as I ought have been I accidentally caused his to faceplant from a height.  It was an accident, but part of me thinks I might have done it on purpose if I was smart enough to realise how easily it could've been done.  My tolerance was worn out.

I may also be a bad person.

The four year old also gave everyone germs.

So I got back on Monday and then didn't leave my flat for a week.  First the sore throat, then the ocean of snot, and finally a cough that I still sort of have.  I was bad and didn't get tested as other people from the weekend who came down with the same symptoms on the same timeline had been tested and were non-COVID.

On Sunday I had a guest.  The invalid friend I mentioned meeting a couple of weeks earlier.  This time the conversation headed in a slightly different direction.  I still thought it was friend-building, but had just moved to 'flirty friends'.  After he left he texted suggesting we get fish'n'chips some Tuesday - which seemed fine.

Monday, I left the house for the first time in a week to got to D&D.  Carla picked me up and we got Japanese on the way.  It was a good night, and I finally got a copy of More Purple More Better so that I can set up my character sheet for the game more effectively.

Tuesday morning it became clear that my new friend had meant this Tuesday.  And I rolled with it.  I did not bring it up at psychotherapy as it is exactly the approach to dating that my brainpoker is trying to train me out of.  He would not approve of my going along with a date because I was told it was happening, rather than from some sort of certainly that I want to.  The psych session ended up mostly feeling like being judged for allowing my health to reduce what I do with my life.  There seemed a heavy implication he thought that I was simply using it as an excuse, possibly even faking it as an excuse.  It left me slightly grouchy (though in fairness, it may have been more me looking for insult than what he was actually intending to say).

So Tuesday evening I got picked up and taken to Port Chalmers to buy takeaways.  On the ride we discussed that his situation was complicated and he didn't want me to have any expectations - I mostly avoided pointing out that I didn't have any.

This was immediately followed by meeting his children, and his mother.  And being introduced as someone he was dating - which seemed a big step from someone who until 20 minutes earlier I had had zero physical contact with, we'd not even shaken hands,  And then after only a pretty innocent moment of him touching my thigh, I was being introduced to his family, and it became clear he expected me to sleep over.

And so followed a night of making out his in bedroom while his tween daughter was only a wall away.

He dropped me home in the morning, and I spent most of Wednesday napping and utterly failing to clean for my flat inspection.

Thursday morning - flat inspection.  The only comment on my cleanliness was a positive one.  Otherwise he just commended my view and my lego, and grumbled about how many of the flats had basic safely features incorrectly installed.  By the power of Cook Brothers....... this building is slightly shit.  In the afternoon, my date from Tuesday came around and I discovered he was now describing me to his friends and family as his boyfriend.

So I guess I have a boyfriend now.

And fortunately I have a week off from brainpoking, so I have time to think up a way to honestly describe the situation that will still imply I had exercised some agency or intention in it.  Or I might get a slightly judgemental look.

My apparent boyfriend came around again this afternoon.

After he left I messaged to suggest things were moving a bit fast.  So we obviously have plans for tomorrow.

And the fireworks going off remind me too late that I have gone yet another year without making Guy Fawkes plans.

Finally had my follow up.

Started the day at the hospital having my follow up, it has left me in a mood so I am watching The Great British Bakeoff just to objectify Chigs.  Ever since my brain decided he looks like he would murder anyone who got involved with him, he has become extremely attractive too me.  I may have issues.

Where was I last time?  The new bandage was big and it was amazing.  It lead to so much less pain.

And that was two weeks ago.

On that Thursday I went for Nando's dinner with Simon, Firmin and Joe.  And then we watched Happy Death Day To You, because I am a terrible friend.

That Friday I had last year's annual diabetes check up with the nurses at my GP clinic.  Everything seems fine, I had had tests the day before and everything came back acceptable.  Afterwards, I got Great Wall takeaways for lunch.

Then home until after dinner on Saturday when I had Carla's 40th to go to at the little bar above the laser tag place.  It was a party.  I somehow ended up in conversation with someone I don't really consider a friend for too much of the night - as often happens when he and I are at stuff together.  Maybe I am just the worst at politely escaping him.

Sunday and Monday were spent at home in my PJs.  I had no effort to give, so gave none.  Just played some Pathfinder: WotR and avoided all humaning.  Especially since D&D was off so I could use change of plans as an excuse to avoid being social.  Having finished my Lich playthrough, I started again for an Aeon playthrough.  While there is plenty that is different it is all the annoying stuff that is the same.

Last Tuesday's brainpoking partially talked about this thing.  It also spent a bunch more time talking about my physical health, a week after my getting angry that we kept wasting time on my physical stuff when his job is poking my brain.

On Wednesday my New New New quiz team broke our winning streak by coming second on the last night of the team as it was.  So the team name could be retired (and I felt more okay about not going back).

Thursday was PJs and exhaustion.

Friday evening I went out for dinner with two of my quiz team, as Tavendale was about to flee town so we were doing something approximating farewell dinner.  We went to Takeichi for ramen dinner.  It was very nice even if they did mess up my order slightly (and I think overcharged by $2 but Tavendale paid before I could see, I assume to prevent me from making  a scene).  Then we went to Comes First Chicken to get pumpkin pie for dinner.  I was not so sold on pumpkin pie, my dislike of it may not have been based on my Canadian grandmother's poor dessert skills after all.

Also, as became apparent not too long later, and all through the next day, that pumpkin pie is significantly made of condensed milk.... So much dairy.  It did not go well for me.

I had two plans on Saturday but I was unwilling to risk getting caught out by moving that far away from having a bathroom to myself - also was exhausted from a very disturbed night.  So I was antisocial at home while Tavendale's farewell pub crawl crawled and while Midget expected me at hers to zoom enter the Harry Potter quiz final.

I am a bad friend.

On Sunday I had guests.  Someone I have been chatting to Whatsapp for a while after meeting on tinder - making local invalid friends.  And after that, Oli dropped by to chat for a while.  Also on Sunday I decided I needed a break from Pathfinder: WotR because it crashes too much and started playing some Stellaris.

[now 2200ish]

On Monday morning I got a txt from my dad saying he was about to leave town (first I had heard he was even coming to town), so sorted myself enough to go have lunch with him and my sister, at the Speight's Ale House.  Food was okay.  Company was my family.

In the evening I went to D&D, where we got takeaways from an Indian place I'd not ordered from before and poisoned myself again, so was cramping through the game and came home to a night of being woken by my own farts.

This weeks brainpoking was fairly random though he was pointing me toward my failure to complete things (i.e. all the study my health got in the way of finishing).  He seems more of the opinion that my health is an excuse rather than a massive frustration.  I do not agree.

On Tuesday evening iTunes broke my phone updating it.  I did the support thing and they told me I had to take it in to an authorised service dealer.  In stubbornness I stayed up too much of the night repeating the process that hadn't worked until it did.  After which I was too wired to sleep.

So Wednesday was a rest day.  Naps and being destroyed.  And not going to quiz, because without Tavendale's prodding the difficulty of the day was enough to makes it too much.

Today started early with a 0900 hospital appointment to see the surgeon for the first time since the day of the surgery (not that hot one, his superior).  And once again I got to ENT and get an intern who has never used an endoscope before getting their first go while it is in me.

I was expecting it to be a waste of time, but instead got a couple of bit of semi negative news.  My complete inability to sing recently is not in my head, turns out they have paralysed half my vocal cords like they had worried the day of the surgery after all.  They mistakenly thought it was fine because my remaining side had compensated remarkably well.  But one the camera was down there it was very clear that one side doesn't move at all.  So there is that.

Also found out that the growth had contained papillory microcarcincoma.  So tests for thyroglobulin will be a semi-regular feature going forward - so they can tell when/if I cancer up from escaped cells.  Though it is apparently not a cancer that kills people.

He also ripped off the bandage, quickly and without ceremony, and declared it unnecessary going forward.  Without the bandage I move too much, which hurts, and the skin under it was pretty gross even if fortnightly washing down by nurses when they changed the thing.  Mostly it is healed up and the scar flat.  Except the drain site, which is a sore, ugly, lump.

This evening I had Nando's with Simon, Joe and Firmin, then watched a couple of Disney+ Halloween things at Simon and Joe's place.

Now tired, sore and going to bed.  I am supposed to go to Central tomorrow for a long weekend away with Oli's family.  And right now that seems impossibly hard.

Also, just realised I don't have a sleeping bag any more.  Was going to replace the shitty, old, one I put in the skip during the move but never did.

Thirds.

Had my third dressing change today.  I went in worried that the nurse would judge me for having not just decided it is healed enough, but she followed complimenting how well it was healing by seeming pretty doubtful I wouldn't need yet another dressing after the one she was putting on.

While it may be healing it is still as clearly a wound as it was two weeks ago.  Still only the same little piece that is nice pink scar, the rest is still scabby and unpleasant.  The new bandage, at my request, is bigger and higher so restricts and is slightly annoying, but SO very much less painful.  How much I had just put up with a bandage causing extra pain for two weeks says too much about how I don't take my own pain seriously.  It is like I am a white male doctor listening to a woman of colour describe her pain and then writing it off as unimportant........

Went to New New New Corp's quiz with Tavendale again.  And won for the third week running.

Gee Quiz quizzes are slightly unsatisfying to win at the best of times, and in a small bar it really fails to feel like a victory.

For some dumb reason I thought I had fully caught up.....

And obviously I haven't.

Balls, Mr Bennett! (Campest reference I have posted in a long time, not sure why that one is so scared into my brain.)

I spent the day after seeing Shang-Chi at home playing Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous in my PJs and not washing.

The following day I had to wash as I went to Carla and Ian's for dinner and D&D.  I had had a doctors appointment as well, but it was a phone consultation so doesn't really feel like it counts, and involved upping my fake thyroid hormone as it seems they seriously underestimated how much my body thinks it needs.  I guess that explains why I have felt cold for the last month.

That Tuesday's brain poking I don't recall anything much from - I think I was on topical grumbling and avoiding thinking about the goals we are theoretically working on.  I am a bad patient - I hope my influence isn't going to make him less good a shrink than he might otherwise have been.  I do remember that I got yakiudon at Miga Hako and it led to me getting chilli oil all over my Watford hoodie.

Wednesday, I finished watching Campaign Two of Critical Role.  More than a thousand hours invested, but I am now up to date. 

Then it was another quiz, with another win.  And I won the solo round so now have a very ugly New New New t-shirt (but they use surprisingly good quality t-shirts so it feels nice) that I suspect may cross some cultural appropriation lines.

And I tried out the building's clothes driers, that are finally installed after we were promised by the landlords they they would be in the building before we were moved into it.  Winter has been tough to get stuff dry so they are overdue and deeply appreciated already.  Also, sheets dried in a drier are so much fluffier that those dried by drapping them between chairs in my front room.

Thursday I was in recovery mode after doing too much.

Friday I washed and dressed for lunch with Midget, which she cancelled on so I went to South D for lunch and went to pakkers for the first time in a couple of months.  It is a supermarket I especially avoid at anything above level 1.  South D just seems where germs would be hiding out.

In the evening I did manage to catdch up with Midget, we went to Mela Eatery and discovered the serving sizes there are very generous.  Neither of use succeeded at finishing our meals.  I feel like I left half mine behind (but had picked out all the good bits, what was left of mine was mostly carbs).

Then a weekend at home, but with washing because reasons such as a guest coming to return books, borrow other books and lend me Rivers of London, which I will now have to read.

Not sure which day it was in the Friday-Sunday period when I injured myself in the shower but tipping my head back when washing my hair.  My neck is not healed enough for that and I forgot meaning it hurts again.  Hurts enough that I haven't slept much the last few nights.

Last night was the weekly dinner and D&D at Carla and Ian's.  The game is doing well at letting us avoid combat and I avoided doing anything that even required me to roll dice.  I was just in the distance concentrating on a buff spell through the whole action sequence.

Today in brain poking (which was thought I was late to, so got there too early and felt awkward about being in the waiting room that long, so went to UBS, inevitably got distracted and thus ended up three minutes late - but having spent almost $40 on a paperback novel... ?win?)

We discussed a few things, including finally discovering the facts I thought I knew about him from having met him at some point when I was a postgrad were right.  He is indeed someone I met once at a party of tramping club people - though I still have no idea what person in common led to me being there.  My brain suspect Camilla but that is a cop-out answer based purely on how much that social group dictated my socialising with randoms for a couple of years.

Also, I finally linked this to him.  Having kind of said I would after talking about it months ago.  I suggested he only look at entries from before we started.  So hopefully it was just show how subjective my interpretations twists around current emotion states and not make me seem like an inconsistent crazy liar....

I really worry I am a inconsistent crazy liar and just don't know it.

I mean, it is half my DNA.....

And do people who lie to themselves constantly have any idea they are doing it?

Fuck, I am broken. 

We also discussed Critical Role and whether I watched it because I was enjoying it enough to justify it or if I was watching it because I felt it was expected of me.  I suspect it was the latter.

Anyway, I got yakiudon again because I was in a black t-shirt so there was nothing to stain.  And picked up new thyroid meds as changing brands to have more convenient dosages.  My attempts to cut pills in half had not worked well.

Post-hospital catch-up part 2

 I think I covered the first 14 days in part one.  So that is a start.

On the 15th, Tavendale made me wash and dress and go to a pub quiz - where I am pretty certain the only reason we didn't win was that the son of a family friend who was adding the scores did a poor job.  I drank water while the rest of the team had fancy beers.

Then I spent four days at home in my PJs as three days out in a row had destroyed me - turns out slowly healing, being on tramadol and yelping every time you turn your head can really take it out of a guy.

Next time leaving the house was for D&D.  Though due to everyone being tired we just played a Llama card game.  It was pleasant.

Tuesday had my weekly brain poking, where he annoyed me more than I let on by asserting that my health problems might be my trauma manifesting.  Telling chronically ill people that it is in their head (especially after years of testing to show it isn't psychological but very much of the meat) will not leave them in a good mood.

After that I went to the MedLabs place and retrieved my thyroid from histology.  And unboxed it for Instagram like a totally normal person.....

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Because I am totally normal.

It really just looks like butchery offal.  But was also a bit heftier than I expected.  How did all that fit in my neck.

Also by this point it had mostly stopped hurting to talk and my voice was sounding much more like my voice.

The next day I got my dressing changed again and the nurse went for a smaller one that would allow more movement.  This resulted in a dressing placed so when it pulled it pulled on the wound itself.  So I was in rather a lot of pain at the quiz Tavendale invited me to that night.  But fortunately we won due to the score being added by someone who could add.

The next day, after lazily playing Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous all day, I was reminded only minutes before Firmin was due to arrive and get me that I had dinner plans with him, Simon and Joe.  I managed a superfast shower that was apparently good enough as no one called me out for being stinky, and was dressed within three minutes of being reminded what was happening.

Dinner was nice enough, people talking while I slowly ate chicken and tried not to let on how uncomfortable things were.  Then we went back to Simon's (though via Firmin's, a place I haven't seen in a very long time) and they let me pick the film, so I picked something I knew Simon would enjoy and Firmin would enjoy to hate: Happy Death Day.  It went down as I expected.

Last Friday I had lunch with Midget, was nice to catch up with her after not seeing her in ages.,  And to thank her for the week of premade meals she had ordered for me while I was in early recovery.  My Food Bag does pretty tolerable premade meals.  I may buy some more for myself.

On Saturday I went to Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings with Tavendale.  I really enjoyed the movie.

And now that I am less than a week behind I am off to do things with my day....

So it has been four weeeks and a day since my surgery

I have not written because I have not felt like writing.

And then it had been so long it seemed like work.

So much work.

So, the morning of the 1st I had to check in at the ward by 0645.  Fortunately my father had othered me a ride in so I didn't have to get up and showered quite as early as I would have if I had had to walk.

Seems part of the earliness was in case I hadn't showered before I came as it was the first thing I was asked and then I got ignore for a bit over quarter of an hour.  I think I was rolled into the theatre around 0800.  Then Scottish anaesthetist who was dealing with me on the way in seemed nice.  Then it was about 1430 when I was finally taken to the ward, but I had no real memory of anything until about an hour later, by which point my dad was in my room watching over me.

Seems that I was in recovery for rather longer than usual.  There had been some sort of issue with the intubation and the general anaesthetic.  But it was never explained to me, and wasn't important enough to be included in the letter for my GP.  When the surgeons came to visit later in the afternoon, once I was properly awake, they were pleasantly surprised that I was able to talk (even though it was only very approximately talking - it was all rasp and pain). I was asked to count to twenty as as I rasped my way through it I could see palpable relief washing over the masked faces of the surgical team.  Turns out they thought they had done significant damage to my left laryngeal nerve, as in possibly might have destroyed it utterly levels of damage.  But I could speak well enough that they were discovering that they hadn't destroyed it - some of it is still there and functional.

So the risk I had been most worried about before hand turned out to be a closer call than ideal, but I am OK.  My voice is still a bit off even four weeks after, might not be much of a singer ever as my pitch control is wonky as and I occasionally sound like a cracking teenage boy when I speak.  But I can talk.  So victory.....

On the first night I broke the vacuum on my drain and it wasn't fixed until the afternoon and never seemed to actually work again, but I guess I wasn't building up too much fluid as they removed it only a couple of hours after the original schedule, on early Friday afternoon.  After the pain from it had earlier led to me having a cry while the hot Indian surgeon from my surgical team held my hand.  Only way I can get a hot guy to hold my hand is to have a cry after he pokes me in an open wound......

The three days in hospital was just a lot of dozing, pain, drugs, tolerable food and lack of actual sleep.  It wasn't until after the drain was gone that I could even do simple things like roll over.  So it was only on Friday night that I was comfortable enough to even think to try to watch Netflix on my phone with the hospital Wi-Fi.  Before that it was just wallowing and too much thinking.  Got some good overthinking out of the way.

On the Saturday when I was discharged I had a nurse who seemed to really dislike me on a personal level, and the weird Saturday doctor who did not follow the guidelines left by my surgical team and changed a bunch of stuff, including putting me on meds he asked me about and I was very clear about wanting to avoid.  Note for the future - leave on Friday.  Weekend staff are not ideal.  Though ideally I will never be in a position to use that advice.  Die quickly, dodge being an inpatient ever again......

I use ellipses too much, and give them more dots than they need.

Once out of hospital, I had to fill scripts on a Saturday afternoon during level 3 lockdown.  Which was a bit of a todo.  Especially as I was stoned as fuck and couldn't move my neck.

I got home with two-to-three days of morphine (which I stretched to a six by minimal doses - does that make me an opioid addict?).  I didn't do anything but doze and watch YouTube while failing to take anything in until Wednesday when I went to my GPs office for a bandage change.  Then, on Thursday, I was finally allowed to shower.  Washing is amazing.

I don't recall if it was last day or morphine or first day post morphine when Firmin dropped by to check I was alive.  Which was very nice.  I was a bit out of it either way.  He has grown a beard over lockdown but had shaved it off before anyone else I know saw it so now I am not entirely certain it ever happened and wasn't some sort of opioid fever dream.  I think I may have hugged him more than it is fair to hug any human.

Ten days after my surgery I finally did a social outing.  I went out for lunch and then to Free Guy with Tavendale.  Then because I had left the house my family made me do it again for dinner, for my trans-sisters birthday, that evening.  To Speight's Ale House.  I think I had ribs.  Was a long time ago and my memory was fogged up by the tramadol I was still on at that stage, but I think it was ribs.  I must have been confident that would be soft enough as chewing still hurts a bit.

On Monday, the 13th I was semi-conscious through some D&D.  My character is a face build who is also a follower - so I don't have to be very on the ball.

The next day I had my first psych appointment since before the lockdown started, so I think about a month.  I think we mostly just talked about my hospital stay and recovery.  But very much not about the thinking I did on hospital which may have included dealing with some confused feelings I had about my shrink and he probably doesn't need to know I occasionally thought he was attractive because he was nice to me and my brain doesn't handle niceness well (due to lack of practice).

This is enough for now.  I will be back with more.  Someday.

I didn't die

Things happened, three nights in hospital and now two back home.
Feeling not good still, but recovering.

Made of panic

Yesterday I went to the pharmacy, it was my first time outside since lockdown started.

Today I was called in for last minute blood tests they they had forgot to tell me about earlier.

I am somewhat packed.  My flat is not remotely ready to have someme convalesce in it.

I should be more practical and achieving of stuff but instead I watch too much TVNZ On Demand.

I shaved and my face rebelled.  It is too hideous even for me to post pictures of it - and usually I have little shame about looking awful.

Life.

It happens.

Until it doesn't.

I guess at my age they won't bring up the option of a DNR.

Anyway, the nil by mouth is about to begin.

Because I hate myself I have been watching the final season of Black Lightning.  The writing is terrible.

At least I had started the day with the considerably better Postmortem, because Norwegia.

Too much Netflix.  Otherwise doing nothing but panic and a bit of bad singing in case I lose the ability forever this week.

Continuing from the last entry I failed to complete, as usual, right at the part the title for the last one came from

So, late afternoon, after failing to do the things I needed to, I received a phone call from the hospital.

Due to someone else cancelling, they can get me in for my surgery in the coming week.

So, yay.  I will get it done before this thing gets even bigger (and hopefully before it has turned cancerous).

But also, balls!  Lockdown is going to make everything difficult.  Simon has family commitments that mean I probably can't violate his lockdown bubble to convalesce at his place.  Dad is back to work right when I would need him to stay - so can't use him for it either.  So no idea how things are going to sort out.  I don't even get the pre-assessment the night before because of the rush and lockdown - so will go into surgery with no one actually have examined how big the growth is since last year.  And I was given basically no information except an apology that there wasn't time for them to post out the information pack about what I'll need (why don't they have it in email form?).

So then I spent the night over researching the risks.  I now understand why the surgeon wrote the permanent vocal damage off as unimportant as it is usually just lose of precision, taking out pitch control.  So if it goes wrong I would most likely just lose ability to sing.  Next step in badness I would be left horse or soft voiced.  Neither of those outcomes are good, but also reasonable unlikely to happen.  

The statistics are on my side, even though I know that isn't solid protection of any sort.

Then I fell down a catching up on The Flash hole.  Season 7 is terrible, so much of it makes NO SENSE.  I had remembered it being closer to non-terrible than the other CW DC shows, but that may been overgenerous of me.

But it eased me away from panic research.  Not necessarily from the panicking.  But can't expect miracles of bad TV.

Yay, and/or Balls!

So, last weekend.

It happened.  I stayed in PJs the whole time.  Otherwise I have nothing specific that I remember.  Lockdown blurs all the days.

Tuesday I put on some actual clothes for the only time yet in this lockdown, so receive a food delivery from Gilbert's.  $38 spent to garner two breakfasts (of almond croissant), three lunches and a dinner.  All tasty and easy.

Wednesday morning I had an early morning parcel arrival.  My Critical Role merch that I ordered from Australia a couple of days before the lockdown thing happened.  It includes masks, in case there was another lockdown....

Then after lunch a Countdown delivery from Alana.  It had useful enough stuff, though lacked the couple of things I had realised I was seriously low on (like having been entirely out of bread already).  But it was helpful.

This busiest day of lockdown left me with an intense attack of stir crazy, so I finally broken open my Lego Botanical Collection Bird of Paradise set, building the pot.  After a dinner of frozen meal from Alana, I started watching One Lane Bridge for the shameless advertising of Queenstown.

Yesterday, I got up and finished One Lane Bridge up to the currently aired episode, then finished building the Lego Bird of Paradise.  It looks okay.  Otherwise is was just another nothing day.  I didn't even open a computer game, as the morning had left to exhausted.

Today, I had a Countdown delivery I ordered for myself arrive, missing the salad bags it was supposed to have.  Forcing me to interact with the stupid Olive chat bot thing that takes their complaints.

I was supposed to go to the pharmacy to get repeats (though I have more than a week) but it has been raining all day so I have spent it in my PJs doing basically nothing.

 Doing nothing, failing to even write about it

Original three day lockdown done, now for the necessary extension

I have not left my building since Tuesday, though have been down to the mailboxes and today the rubbish bins.

Wednesday, I did..... something.  YouTube mostly.  Actually a quick check of the history shows multiple episodes of Critical Role - so unhealthy amounts of YouTube.  While getting angry at how buggy The Sims 4 is still.

Also much texting with family.  As my sickly uncle died, only days after learning he had terminal cancer.  It got him fast.  I am not sure if it is a blessing or not.

Thursday morning I was awoken by the postie buzzing my intercom to say I had a package and he was leaving it at the building door (not coming in because COVID).  It was a big jar of lollies (M&M's and skittles all mixed up together) from Alana and her family.  I watched much less YouTube, because I napped through some TV instead.  Rewatching My Life is Murder.  But I managed to shower and pretend to human a little.  In the evening my father visited to talk about the whole Invercargill death trip that I had skipped.  It was a weird socially distanced, masked-up visit even though I am a bubble to myself and really allowed to bubble share with him - though I guess he had been hanging out in sizeable group in a hospital past the start of lockdown.  He also brought baking, which is possibly a bit of a vector in itself.

And then getting angry at the dumpster fire that is RuPaul's Drag Race All-Stars.  Too much Ru is one episode just drew attention to how crap the show is and how he appears to have no sense or taste.

Today, first up I awoke to have no running water so had to waste some effort ringing the managers and then the water came on just before the plumbers called with their COVID safety checklist.  So I got to tell them not to bother coming and shall likely never know why I had no water.  Also, I was not feeling great so have been watching a bunch of CritRole's Narrative Telephone as it is comedy that requires zero attention or thought.  In the process I accidentally ate far too much of the jar of lollies, it was sitting beside my on the couch and I didn't realise until I was far too far into it that I was devouring much more than I realised.  Now having a quiet night of bad TV.  The Outpost has added a weird scifi-esque bent to its high fantasy setting, and DC's Stargirl remains semi-crap but watchable.

I am not well prepared for this lockdown.  Meals are going to start getting annoying - I may have to supermarket shop for myself this time.  I am too old to be depending on my dad for groceries through lockdown.

Morbidity and mortality and the rise of delta

I awoke to the news that my least favourite uncle is terminally ill and in late stages.  So I spent a lot of the morning pretending he hadn't been a dick to me every time I ever interacted with him.

I understand this is very sad for my father, but I only have negative memories of that uncle.  Including some pretty spectacularly awful ones, to the point I had discussed him with my shrink before.

 There was interest fungus in my back garden.

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I made it to Artsenta writing group only about 8 minutes late.   Though the short short story I wrote was commended as a wonderful poem.

Walking through town I realised I was paying far too much attention to beardy dorks and fit-for-their-age silver foxes.  Far too much noticing other people.  And judging their husbandibility......  I may have the lonesomes.  But going through town also featured stopped at spec savers to get the loose screw issue solved and got my glasses cleaned in the process (revealing they were messier than I had guessed).  And I actually bought the book I read in the weekend, to support the author.

Brain-poking was considerably about my uncle.  A certain electric fence in my childhood.  And my lack of forgiveness.  Though also had a much worse than usual attack of my brain suggesting he'd be good to hug to distract me from overly hard thoughts.  I know what it is doing, but it is still deeply disconcerting.  And, apart from being utterly inappropriate and not actually an option, he does vague fit my list which makes the disruptive and intrusive thoughts a bit harder to shake.

I failed to buy groceries on the way home as I was in a mood and decided that could be tomorrow-Matthew's problem.  So obviously the evening brought news of an immediate lockdown as COVID had got into New Zealand.  So tomorrow-Matthew will just have to make do on very limited supplies for the run of this lockdown.

Also thought there was an earthquake while I was in town until realising it was just my tremors playing up.  I have been a bit tremor-y ever since.  It had been behaving so well recently.

I caved

Tavendale came around and we went for lunch at Side On (the place on Moray with the cardamom buns), and got nice food while having a pleasantly random chat.  After walking home I got a bit weird on him - not sure why, may have just been unhelpfulness from my brain.  Hopefully he has known me long enough to not hold it against me now.  At least we don't live in the same city, so he is safe from my brain deciding that we could do worse than just settling for each other.  Maybe he could do worse, but he could also do a lot better.

 Maybe (well, not maybe, definitely) I am just overthinking things.  I blame my dinosaur boxers.  Every time I wear them I end up second-guessing if there is 'date' type thinking going on.

Then late afternoon I caved and broke out the deep heat again to get my arm moving.  And then sat around wondering why it is called deep heat, or why it claims to cause heat, when the sensation is all coldness.  but obviously it is because the cold is a lie and the body's response to that lie means there is some warm.  And I am rambling at the zero readers of my blog.  I'm a monster.  Sorry zero readers, I apologise for wasting no actual time of anyone except myself.  And maybe some Russians using this to train bots in idiomatic English.

Then my family declared dinner plans, which seemed a good way to wake myself up for a quiz I intended to go to.  We went to Spirit House and had Thai food dinner watching over the ocean.  It just made me sleepier.  So I came house to do a LOT of nothing.  Haven't gone to bed early - but haven't done anything that involves being actually awake or thinking.

Am generally just feeling very out of it.

And I am making overnight oats with sliced almond and buckwheat in it and pretending that makes it bircher as I have no idea what actually makes bircher different from overnight oats.

It is tomorrow, even if date stamps suggest otherwise.

On Thursday I was moving all awkward and lopsided.  Showering and dressing was a bit of a mission.  But I went in to town for lunch with Oli anyway.  After which, I met my dad at the supermarket to grab some supplies and some deep heat.  It was mostly about the deep heat.

Deep heat is amazing.  It worked so much faster than I was expecting and let me move my left arm again.

Then Thursday dinner was Nando's with Firmin and Simon.  It was nice enough.  We went back to Simon's afterwards and watched, of all things, Romancing the Stone.  It is SO eighties.  But the remaster from film is very nice, almost looks new.  The night ended with Firmin, the only one of my friends who has ever carried my roleplaying bag, lecturing me about cutting it down so that I don't have so much weight throwing my balance off.  Yes, I have been wearing that 15ish kg bag every time I have injured myself on stairs.  But that doesn't mean the weight is the issue....

Friday was the one day I applied deep heat three times (the box says 2-3 times per day).  Otherwise I did little.  Slothed at home.  Made stirfry for dinner (it had kale - so must count as healthful).  Started reading a book about a magic school under Fox Glacier.

Saturday, finished Tim Te Maro and the Subterranean Heartsick Blues by H. S. Valley.  It is so aggressively kiwi.  Though nice to read a book about homos by a brown woman instead of the regular white woman claiming ownership of the gay boy experience....

Sunday, watched youtube and got angry at bad routing in The Sims 4.  Only when showering did I discover I still needed deep heat as my left arm would not comply enough to easily wash my hair.

Today, have pants on before noon and after days of deep heat am trying to go without.

The amount of loud swearing reveals what game I have been wasting time playing. The bad routing and lagginess make me so angry.

I was going to write on Tuesday, I had some insightful thing to share.  My memory has not held what that thing was though.

I think it was about brain poking, or something I had worked out at brain-poking.  But I can't remember anything about the session beyond the ridiculous raincoat my shrink was wearing.

On the way home I was getting angry at the wind somehow blowing wisps of fringe into my mouth even though most of it wasn't that long (stupid balding making all the hair grow at different rates), so I went to Bloke and got a walk in haircut from some twig-creature-child called Liam.  I got a fade thinking it would be a lesson in not doing anything hip, and it is actually really good.  I like it so much.  It may also be getting bonus points for being a haircut that Shitlord would have passive-aggressively punished me for, and for being a haircut that my sister accused me of being a Nazi for having.

That evening I went to the Speight's Ale House for dinner with my dad and sister (thus a chance to be called a Nazi), before we went and watched the new The Suicide Squad movie.

Wednesday I didn't feel good.  I had slept poorly and kept zoning out (even having an accidental afternoon nap in a chair - which is never pleasant or comfortable).  But I got sorted-ish for my game and was preparing to head in.  First I got pretty intensively fat-shamed by one of my neighbours, then I slipped on the stairs, falling and doing a bit of damage to myself in preventing a faceplant.  So I was in a pretty awful mood heading in to game and ended up a little late after stopping at the bus hub for a much needed vent at one of my favourite Claires.  And I had some awkwardness setting up as my left arm wasn't moving a bunch.

The game went mostly okay.  The one on-task player has had to pull out, so the game will be a lot more distractible from here on - meaning I probably don't need to be as prepared.....

Then the game ended and I waiting for everyone else to leave as getting back into my roleplaying bag when much of my body wasn't moving right was an embarrassing spectacle even without an audience.

[stupidly writing too late at night, I should sleep, will hopefully pick this up tomorrow]

Also, see my ‘nazi’ haircut - and shirtless as covered in much deep heat.

My brain hates me

 I woke to snow - not good snow just enough to make the hilltops white and everything cold.

And with a migraine on the left.  Why can't they just stay on the right front where I have learned to ignore them?  Today was very left focused and sometimes even at the back.  It was not a good day.

It was bad enough for a while that my vision was getting distorted and as I lay in bed reading Alexis Hall's Boyfriend Material while my kindle would go all weird and curvy in my vision.

Another week down

 Brain-poking on Tuesday was mostly about Shitlord again.  Which is annoying as I hadn't mentioned him in ages and then his birthday comes along again and rudely reminds me how trash he is (Facebook's memories feature does a bit of this too - reminding me of all the non-subtle cries for help I didn't realise I was making and which my friends ignored).

After the session I got lunch in town and then went to a GP appointment.  Because my doctors office sucks, I had an appointment with a random locum.  She turned out to be most university med-school staff, and lamented she didn't have a student with her as my neck is now interesting enough to be something students should see.  Being told I was medically interesting was a clear sign that I have been inadequately looked after by the health system, things shouldn't have got this bad.  Then being told I should be turning up at ED every time it is especially swollen as the doctor didn't trust the hospital to actually schedule my now-overdue surgery unless I had a right nuisance of myself.

This is not how our medical system is supposed to work.

I know I should feel angry and driven to sort things.

But I just feel....

Defeated.

So defeated that I sort of feel like the correct response is to just curl up somewhere and die - be a statistic of the DHB's many failings.

Wednesday I had lunch with my dad and sister at the Esplanade.  I gave myself mild tomato poisoning with very nice lasagna.

Thursday I had to wash and leave the house to get meds that the pharmacy hadn't had on Tuesday.  I had also had plans with Midget but she'd bumped them a day.

Friday morning Tina came to visit and we went for a morning walk around second hand book stores.  Then had lunch with Midget and spilt butter chicken down my new Watford School of Magicks hoodie.  One of the goats three eyes is still orange even after going through the wash.

I have not left the house since, as not long after I got home I had an attack of full body pins and needles whenever I moved (normally that only happens when I stretch out my back and comes right in like 30 seconds).  So I went to bed and listened to the Sandman audible Act 1 (Amazon was doing it for free as promotion for Act 2, Neil Gaiman had social media posted a link).  But that was Friday evening and much of Saturday safely used up without having move or use my eyes.  I'll take it.

Then some watching of TV and YouTube and some playing of the very buggy The Sims 4: Cottage Living.

I achieve little, but downtime is all I do but somehow I was still too exhausted and needed a deeper level of downtime.

Proud of dumb things

My brain spent a whole day reminding me it was Shitlord's birthday.  I did not text him.  I ignored my impulse to be nice.
Best adulting I have done.

Anyway, otherwise what have I been up to since I last wrote.

The only two times I have left the house since I last wrote were a trip to pakkers on Saturday evening and then going to my weekly D&D game at Ian's tonight.

Otherwise it has just been a bit of The Sims 4 and a bunch of reading.  T.J. Klune's Flash Fire was a fun, if heavy handedly topical, YA superhero romp (it tries to undo the subtle copaganda of the previous book in the series in a way that is occasionally slightly cringy).

And I spent Sunday wrapped up like a culturally insensitive cosplaying of the Inuit people, with my heatpump the highest I have ever set and and still feeling too cold (even though I have had it confirmed it wasn't a particularly cold day) and feeling super sleepy the whole time.  Once it was late enough in the evening that I could go to bed without it being weird, I was too awake, too warm, and ended up sitting in a room that had had no heating, in my my boxers, feeling far too warm.

Not sure if it was a day of germs, or just the weirdness of my thermoregulation going super overboard for the day.  Hopefully once my messed up thyroid tumour cluster comes out that sort of thing stops (though it did start a long time before the thyroid got particularly large - so knowing my luck it will be some whole other health problem).

I suck at this thing

I thought it had only been a few days, it has been 10.  10 days where this thing is getting hundreds of hits from Russia again.  My disappointing English is being used for something.

Anyway. Last week.  Happened, I'm pretty sure.

On Monday, I delivered my 24 hour collection and got some blood tests done.  Then in the evening I went to the Harry Potter quiz that was on at the Kensington with Midget's family.   I didn't contribute much, I think I only gave two answers that no-one else in the team knew.  And my brain was weirdly taken by the odd-looking middle-aged quiz-master.  First time I have found someone that appealing in a long time, and total weirdo.  Also, probably straight and married with kids.

Also, we won the quiz.  By three points.  So I am pretty sure the team would have won even if I wasn't there.

On Tuesday morning I had a fire drill - first one in the new building.  Since I was up I actually made it to Artsenta for the first time in months and wrote a poem about taking an electric shock to the junk.  Because I am class embodied.

Then brain-poking where pretty much all we talked about was my anxiety about how I was doing psychotherapy wrong, and that led into a more talk about my chronic health problem than I have done in a long time.  I assume most people don;t care to hear it - even those who ask generally go off listening pretty quick (that may be mostly Shitlord baggage - he who thought it was all just a failure to think positively).

That evening I went to Speights fr dinner with my dad, without my sister for once.  It was actually really nice - I don't spend that much time with my dad when I am not having to be on guard against some impossible to predict 'misstep' amongst the landmines of my sister's crazy.

On Thursday I left the house to get lunch with Oli.  And it stopped me going too many days at home.

When I next left my unit was again Oli related, when he invited me out on Sunday.  An afternoon tea thing with some friends I haven't seen in the years since their wedding, hosted at Oli's cousin's place.  I failed to human well, but was nice to see Oli and Greer - and I do a decent job of getting along with their preschoolers.

Monday I was feeling vaguely destroyed from stupidly playing some Sims 4 when I should have been sleeping.  D&D in the evening was nice, though my character was pretty background follower-ish as I was too tired to suggest much.

Yesterday, I made it to Artsenta again (mostly as the guy who runs the writing group had emailed some non-subtle guilt tripping).  Then brain-poking which was almost entirely on my feelings around my physical health.

Today was my fortnightly GMing.  I didn't roll a dice the whole night.  For the second week running the players just tried to seduce townies while I snuck in heavy-handed exposition.

I just clocked Underrail (with the expansion)

Tuesday's brain-poking was just dealing with the trauma of the previous session.  Yes, I am that broken.

Wednesday, after a morning of getting game stuff sorted I had a friend-date afternoon out with REO Speedwagon (I say inflicting a new terrible nickname on a friend who doesn't like to identified on the internet).  We went to Long Dog at the beach - it is a nice enough cafe that gets massive bonus points for the view.  Watching waves is nice.  And he dropped me at uni in time to grab some dinner before game.

The game session was weird.  It was a purely social session with the characters not even getting through a single conversation in the whole game as they were enjoying awkwardly flirting at the openly asexual people in the town they had stumbled across.  Players are so much trouble.

Thursday evening I had my worst experience at Nando's ever (and I have fallen over from muscle cramps there before).  It was stinky like old rubbish and the service was extremely slow.  At least I got to go out to Simon and Joe's afterwards to watch Deadpool 2 with David.  To complain about Nando's and complain about how Deadpool 2 is no Deadpool.

Friday, I was planning to do nothing but got a text just after 9am to tell me the University Book Shop had a book in for me.  I mentioned it in the messenger chat I was having with my dad so a few hours later he turned up to take me to get it.  Which means I got the book and also means I got the ride in a car along side the ridiculous farmer's protest through town.  So many tractors and utes, and rather too many protest signs that were either anti-Maori racism or misogynistic attacks on the prime minister.

Late afternoon I started reading Rainbow Rowell's Any Way The Wind Blows, and by lunch time on Saturday I had finished its 575 pages.  I may not have slept as much as an old man like me needs to.

Last night a friend came around, which was nice.  Except he recently moved from smoking to vaping, and while he was very respectful about not smoking in other people's space he started vaping in my lounge without so much as warning.  And proved far too resistant to my attempts at passive aggressively suggesting it wasn't ideal.

My psychotherapist has been encouraging me to be better at healthy conflict.  The whole thing proved that assertiveness is still not a thing I am ready to do.

Today I finally finished Underrail.  I had sort of intended to replay with a different build and try out different choices - but I don't have the patience.  I shall continue replaying something else I am partway through instead - or maybe even play one of the games I have bought and failed to complete (or play at all).

Am also finally doing the 24 hour collection I have been putting off for weeks and have so far managed not to spill anything and mess it up.

More PJs

 I have not washed or dressed today.  I am still dozing most of the time and a bit useless.

The day feature my dad dropping by to deliver some cake he had made.  More random bleeding.  Crying over my dinner because I had eaten my fries before my kebab and then was hungry enough to read half of it - and my brain is a traitor.  Not sure where it came from.  But considering I had a minor panic attack (something that has only happened a couple of times in my life and always for actual reasons - unlike tonight's) while trimming my toe nails, I think it is probably fair to say that my subconscious is taking advantage of my weakened state to troll on me.

Knocked down, but maybe less than last time

Friday I got flashes of light whenever I made any remotely fast movement, and was otherwise tired and feeling ick.  At lunchtime I had an unexpectedly punctual delivery from TOLL, meaning some Lego arrived much sooner than usual.  Unfortunately an error in packing meant three of the sets it was supposed to have with it were not there.

So I spent about an hour on the support chat on Lego.com.  It got sorted, I got refunded.  Am just annoyed as the sets are no longer available and I had wanted them for upcoming gifts.

Otherwise I was mostly in bed, either dozing or reading Rainbow Rowell's Wayward Son.

Yesterday, I had a Saturday of continuing on in my PJs achieving basically nothing.  Except too much youtube and failing in my attempts to work on my game for Wednesday - too sick for thinking.  In spite of having had eleven hours sleep the night before I kept drifting off all day.

Today was pretty much the same except my family turned up, so I had to wash and dressed and breifly leave the house to get lunch at Mela Eatery (the food was tasty but really not FODMAP).

[edit] late night mopping the floor as I was leaving a trail of blood from an injury I have no idea how I gave myself.

Second (and final) COVID jab done. Now 5g compliant.

 I spent the whole weekend in.  And PJ'd up.

On Sunday night I had a nasty attack of muscle cramps, the one in my left calf did some actual damage and still hurts to move or touch today.  Stupid muscle cramps.

So on Monday I was planning to do nothing again except my dad decided we needed a family lunch out to celebrate my sister having passed all her papers.  I mean I would have D&D'd in the evening anyway, but having to wash and dress in the morning instead of at tea time.......

D&D was nice, after getting Pita Pit for dinner (something I think I had only had once before), even if the host's 7 year old goblin felt the need to paint herself in glitter and then sneak up and rub her face on my shirt.

Tuesday I had my weekly brain-poking.  He lead things more than usual, and in the process made me cry.  I have been doing pretty good at not crying in his presence and he went and spoiled it - and then acted like it was a good thing for me.  He clearly fails to understand that, I may be an ugly nerd homo but, toxic masculinity still partially applies.

And while I was at the appointment the bad courier company failed to deliver my Lego.com order.  Fortunately since March they have improved their customer service enough to have a redeliver option.  So my Lego came on Wednesday while I was home feeling pretty destroyed, because my sickly body is useless, and finishing my reread of Rainbow Rowell's Carry On.  So I have not opened any of the Lego yet (I might make the Pride Month special Everyone is Awesome set tomorrow).

Today, I had my COVID jab.  It went fine, I didn't feel it go in at all.  After my time in the post jab waiting room I met role-playing Claire for lunch and to have her encourage more random junk food shopping choices at the supermarket afterwards (in case the vaccines knocks me out tomorrow).

Things were all fine until around 2200 tonight when my arm started to hurt.  A nurse who follows me on Insta told me I need to drink a heap of water tonight if I want to avoid getting as knocked about by the vaccine, won't help the arm being swollen and hot, but will hopefully reduce how sick it leaves me feeling tomorrow.

I may have overdone the water, will definitely have to get up and pee during the night.

I mentioned Jim Broadbent, and I regret it.

At brainpoking I mentioned to my psychotherapist that sometime I think about if he looks like he will age to look like Jim Broadbent or not.  Now I feel super weird about it.  As it may also be a little unfair, but better than admitting to my shrink that I am such a cliche as to sometimes find him very attractive.  Otherwise it was another week of weirdly too much emotional attachment to a void of nothingness.

Afterward I had a nice long chat to Oli in the supermarket (and then had to turn down multiple attempts he made to hang out later in the week, I am a bad friend).  Then I bumped into Midget and her spawn (off school because of the snow) and spent the next few hours shopping for party supplies with them.  So much time in Spotlight.  Children's parties seem horrifying.

Wednesday I sulked in my PJs, replayed some more Kingmaker and watched some bad TV.  Not only was a in a mood but my body was not behaving the best.

Thursday I had lunch with Midget and helped with a little more party shopping, this time without the spawn's supervision.  Which also meant I had to turn down a lunch invite from Oli.  After school pickup of the spawn and then being dropped home I was settling in to relax when my body fell out from under me.  I ended up lying on the floor for a couple of hours.

Friday, I slept badly and woke late having missed several messages from Tina about swimming.  And it was very white with frost even at that later start.  She came around but we didn't go pool.  We hung out and chatted and went to BK for lunch.  But apart from the brief outing, it was just me using up her whole day chatting at her until she had to go so as to fetch her spawn from school on time.  Then my body decided to repeat the afternoon collapse routine, which was deeply frustrating.

Today broke the trend by my body starting the day useless....  Though I had the best evening I have had in a while.  I successfully managed to cook proper dinner - for the first time in slightly too long.  Otherwise the day was watching crap TV (netflix's button for randomly playing something put on awful reality TV with stupid, pretty, sex-positive, people being human-garbage).

Oh, and my family visited after farmers market.  Dad dropping off some food to me while I am useless, and my sister tagged along to lecture me about how the RNZ series I have been listening to is racist and that I am racist for listening to it.  So I have been chatting to Chinese friends I have about it (and discovering that the post-uni atrophying of friends has left me with a much whiter social circle than I had when I was younger) and finding they do not agree with my sisters claims.  Maybe my sister speaking for what is racist about Chinese people is really just parroting the United Front positions pushed on TikTok.

Not sure why I feel this thing needs to be a full accounting, or why I am so bad at follow through

After a Wednesday inside, I had a Thursday mostly inside until dinner at Nando's with Firmin, Simon and Joe and it definitely wasn't for Firmin's birthday.  Then I finally got to see Simon's new pellet burner when we went back to theirs for the first time in ages.  We rewatched Deadpool so as to see a movie but not have to think.

Friday I spent in PJs.  In the evening I started reading the trash teen romance novel Red, White and Royal Blue because goodreads kept telling me to.

I had a weird dream about the last person I had actually seen in person.  It was awkward and uncomfortable romantic - though not remotely sexual at all, thankfully.  I blame the trash romance novel right before bed. 

Then Saturday otherwise featured my 'special' appointment with the endocrinologist.  She seemed to believe I had discussed options with ENT and chosen surgery over a radiation treatment (which I had not, I had been given surgery as the only viable option), then she listened to my stridor, heard how bad it was and agreed it was too late for a non-surgical approach (if only the last year hadn't been wasted doing nothing about it....).  The she fat-shamed me a bit, though much more gently than the anaesthesiologist had.  It was more of the 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed' approach.  Though she later conceded she may have prescribed too high a dose on the metabolism suppressing meds and that that may have been a factor in my gaining a lot of weight since the dose was doubled.  My thyroid hormones are not only back to normal they are back to regular normal and in my whole life previous they had always been on the high side of normal.  Basically, I am probably more suppressed than is right for my body - so the new fat isn't all just from depression and eating my feelings.

Just mostly.

Sunday, I played some Kingmaker and watched some TV.  Spent several hours lying on my floor because my body noped life for a while.  Then had to wash and dress in the evening as my father had just got back from a work trip and wanted dinner out.  We went to Speight's Ale House and met its updated meal.  The biggest changes in many years - I don't approve except for the delicious pork belly I had.

Today I went on a supermarket junkfood run before lunch as the weather was set to turn nasty and a couple of days of pretending I was going to try and eat healthy for the sake of my surgery just had me hoping I died during surgery in a way that would seem like the anaesthesiologist's fault.

This evening I had D&D.  And also, snow.

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