Metamorphosis

Between tests and drips it's difficult to know how to fill this 21st century journal. It doesn't help that all I want to do is sleep. A week of Chinese hamster injections (interferon beta 1A) and I think I've gone into a kind of late winter hibernation. Sleep has never been so appealing. Thankfully I haven't had a sudden desire to consume lettuce and cereals and I have so far resisted temptation to buy a giant wheel so at this stage I think I'm not turning Kafka like into a hamster, but god I can sleep at the moment. Ella and Beth would of course be delighted at the prospect of a hamster in the house. It would finally give a purpose to the old toilet roll insides they've been hoarding since last year and ever since I explained that poor old Winnie the cat won't live forever they've been looking forward to a new pet....is Winnie still alive? is the slightly disappointed morning question. But they wouldn't behave like Kafka's family, hiding me away from the lodgers. Blimey, Ella would put me into her book bag and take me in for show and tell at school.

In general the girls are fascinated by the whole injection business - no squeamishness from them - they just park their chairs up for a good view of this latest alternative to childrens tv...God knows what they tell their teachers about Dad shooting up of a Monday night, I'm half expecting the social round tomorrow morning. Now that would be perfect for this weeks journal - My Dad's a junkie hamster.