I went to bed at midnight like a responsible adult for once after spending the evening watching old cine films of me as a three-year-old with my daughter. If you have not dug out your childhood footage and had it converted to USBs, do yourself a favour and get it done, it's absolutely worth it, and I know a great guy who does it properly without turning your childhood into a blur. Mine have no sound, so we just make up everyone’s conversations like a family version of Bad Lip Reading. Three-year-old me was giving full diva energy, thinking someone would bring me a ice cream immediately.

At exactly 3:44 am, because my body loves unnecessary drama, I woke up wide awake. I sprayed my pillow with enough lavender mist to fumigate a small cottage, drank a double chamomile tea like it was something stronger and opened the window because suddenly I was melting for no reason, even though I had not eaten any sugar. My hormones were clearly hosting a rave.

The nicest dessert

Last night’s dessert was two overripe pears, the kind that usually go straight in the bin, resurrected in the air fryer with cinnamon and maple syrup for ten minutes at 200 degrees. They came out caramelised and glowing like they had been airbrushed. I topped them with Anchor spray cream, which I did not ask for but was substituted when the supermarket ran out of vegan cream. My virus has finally left the building, so I decided to risk dairy. And honestly, those pears were flirting with me. The whole thing was so gorgeous; I think the excitement woke me up at 3:44 am.

I am absolutely exhausted after two long days at the hospital. Seven hours on Monday and four hours yesterday. I am one visit away from being put on the rota. Despite being very unwell, my daughter has been incredibly upbeat because, after the last two years, she has developed resilience that should come with a trophy. She has been dismissed and gaslit for over two years with her severe gastritis, stomach pain and the non epileptic seizures that get triggered when the pain becomes too much.

Every time she ate something her stomach did not like, she would be screaming, doubled over and then a seizure would start. Every time the paramedics arrived, I repeated the exact same line like it was my catchphrase. I think she is in pain in her stomach. I could have had it printed on a hoodie.

Finally, her symptoms have been taken seriously, and she has a diagnosis. She is now being referred to a liver specialist and a surgeon to discuss the next steps. After over two years of agony, seizures, ambulances, hospital visits and being ignored, we finally have direction. She is only eighteen, and most adults could not handle what she has endured.

To add a sprinkle of chaos to the week, I ordered her expensive Redken shampoo from Amazon. What arrived instead was a bottle of Broncho 5 in 1 cough medicine. At this point, I am half expecting the next delivery to be a family-size pack of cotton buds because clearly the theme of the week is Random Items No One Asked For.

Happy Hump Day

And the best part is that it is only hump day. Two more days to go, which means plenty of time for life to send me another plot twist.