OK, it's nearly half past eleven and I'm going to be in bed, with a mug of Lemsip and a cling-on cat by midnight, so this will be short.

Today was meant to be a rest, but I woke up scrunched into a tight knot of fear about tomorrow (taking ED for this assessment for the feeding tube). What are my fears?

1. That the gastro doc will say she's not suitable (unlikely - not really his call, unless - well, unless something medical I don't know about.
2. That I won't know the answers to questions about her because I have a brain like a fucking sieve
3. That I will be sick with grief and anxiety instead of the calming presence she's going to need, being taken to a hospital when she doesn't know what's going on from one moment to the next
4. Something I haven't even thought of, but that comes under the heading of catastrophising or some such, so it must be ignored.

As must the others, because what will be, will indeed be.

So I did my mindfulness - I've now done nine out of the ten free, ten-minute sessions and think I will be signing up for more - in fact I just did. It definitely calms me in the short term and possibly on a deeper level already, considering the time I'm having. Link here

Off to my meeting with the health worker about stopping smoking again - we agreed that I want to crack on, but after daughter has been rehydrated and I know where I am. This will be next week, I hope. So we're meeting again next Tuesday to do what she calls "If/Then". If I'm trying to write and I want a fag, then I will... still don't know the answer to that one, but hope to by next week.

I lost my phone in the building I met her in. Fuck. Ing. Hell. Used it while I was waiting to see her, not there as I walked away from the meeting room. People helped me look, called it, gone. Man. I made myself go to restorative yoga, as planned, because I was starting to unravel and imagine some vindictive twat using all the open pages like my email and facebook to say nasty things in my name, or spying on me etc.

The yoga was harder than I thought - class taken by the usual woman's husband, focusing on the legs, giving them a good stretch, slowly and painfully even if supported. It was very calming in the end though, so all good. Probably.

I limped up the hill to the Virgin Media place to report the phone missing and have a stop put on it, where I discovered that as a person of 60, I am insured automatically, minus the excess. Coolio. Had to make loads of calls (from the landline) when I got in - back and forth, everybody wants a number - the insurance want a crime number, the police want some number attached to the phone that I have to get from Virgin, blah blah, on and on, but all done and a replacement will be delivered to my sister's place tomorrow. I am to call and they'll talk me through the free app which will save all my numbers if it happens again.

Plus points: it did have shattered glass which would have cost me £50 anyway to get mended (apparently), and it did take my mind off tomorrow. Thank fuck for facebook too, as I was able to use it to get the numbers I'll need for tomorrow and generated loads of messaging to and fro which has kept me out of the doldrums this evening. Not sure if it's good or bad that I'll lose the numbers of people who have died, makes me sad though.

But now it's ten past midnight, so bed and sleeping pill.

Grateful for: Nice bloke at Virgin, who came off message on the phone to chat about stopping smoking; Itsu - tasty, cheap, fresh food, on my way home; sleeping pills, the NHS; having a battery of techniques which really are helping me get through this, as are you, dear friends

Sweet dreams xxx