-- Last week my midwife told me she suspected I had gestational diabetes
-- For a week, I have had no chocolate. Alex may have found this even more painful than I have.
-- I had a glucose tolerance test this morning.
-- I am eating a family sized bag of maltesers.

Can you guess? Can you guess my good news?* Yes! I don't have gestational diabetes! I don't have a kidney infection either, but I didn't even know they were worried about that until I was told that I wasn't allowed to leave the hospital until I'd been poked at and prodded by a doctor.

And for an added bonus, Heather is in the right position - she's not engaged yet, but she is getting herself geared up ready for THE BIRTH.

*I accidentally typed "good nose". I don't know why I did this, but I kind of like it.

SLIGHTLY MORE SERIOUS.

I'm feeling much more stable about Mike now, although it still hurts to think about it.

Every now and again something will happen that reminds me, and it just kills me. Like going into my uni email account and seeing loads of emails with his name on them - the result of us having conversations over the internet. Or opening up my file and seeing the academic plan he'd arranged and signed for me. Or seeing the official comments sheet he filled out for the first performance portfolio I ever put together; a page of encouraging comments and praise in scrawled green ink (which, for some reason, is more painful than any of the other reminders. Perhaps because his love of the subject is so evident in those notes...). Even just seeing my copy of 'Freud's introductory lectures on psychoanalysis' on the bookshelf, or my DVD of 'Psycho'.

I know it probably seems so silly, as though I'm overreacting...but it feels like I've lost the most inspirational person I've ever met. I have so many fond memories and I'm going to make sure that I keep those memories alive.

He inspired a love of psychoanalysis that I don't think anyone could have predicted; I was planning on doing my dissertation on something that would allow me to focus on gothic texts (another passion developed as a result of Mike). Since hearing the horrible news on Tuesday, I wasn't sure if I could do this any more - it just won't be the same without having him there to bounce ideas off. But it's ridiculous...if there's anything I can do, I owe it to him to use the passion he inspired in me to do really well, creating a piece of work which focuses on his specialist areas even if he's not here to guide me.

I'm so sorry to write so much about this here. I want to be happy and lighthearted in this diary...but I also don't want anyone to think that I'm harsh or uncaring by seeming to suddenly be ok. This is just how I deal with death - I have to distance myself from the emotions and only think about good things, rather than dwelling on the negatives or on how much I will miss a person. I know it's not what everyone would do, but this is the only way for me to cope.

ONTO OTHER THINGS

Bloody hell, Heather has hiccups again. You'd think it'd be cute. It's not. Well, no, I tell a lie - it is cute...for a while. But it gets very annoying very quickly - like having a muscle twitching in your stomach/against your cervix/in your ass for FUCKING AGES.

POOR POORLY CAT

Carrott is a poorly kitten! He started acting very weird on Tuesday night - not interested in his food, dopey, refusing to open his eyes properly etc etc. Then he was droopy all day on Wednesday so, amidst much Alex grumbling, we took him to the vets. Poor kitty has a severly infected gland and had a raging fever, with a temperature about as high as it could go. I was so worried about him - he was all floppy and non-responsive...I honestly thought he was going to die.

The vet gave him two injections...and in true Carrott style, within an hour of us getting home, he was downstairs shouting for food.

We had to take him back for another injection last night, he has to have an antibiotic tablet every night and we've got to take him back to the vets to be checked out on Tuesday, but he seems to have perked up no end.

He was feeling well enough yesterday to fall in the bath with me again. Three times. In half an hour.

I love this cat.

AND ON THAT NOTE...

I'm totally knackered and all I can smell is cat poo. I think the cat has done a huge great poo in the litter tray and the smell is seeping slowly through the house. Ugh. And Heather's doing her She-Ra bit again, so I'm going to have a lie down to see if I can get her to protest in a less painful manner.

Nothin' but love to you all.

p.s. JOIN MY RING. I love the sentence on the 'create a diaryring' page that says "You need to know who's in your ring." Well, yes. If there's someone in my ring, I want to know who it is.

32 WEEKS? WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN??

GO ON, I COULD REALLY DO WITH SOME HUGS.


give Kate-Lee more *HUGS*Get hugs of your own