Down, down, deeper and down....

Well, I'm down to 50mg of the Topiramate per day now and things are getting pretty nasty. I've been managing the situation not too badly. I decided to give magnetic therapy a try again. I used this a great deal in the early years and it was extremely effective but as the RSD spread the magnets became less effective until they weren't doing any good at all, although they still worked brilliantly for other conditions. I wondered if they might be useful again having had a fairly long break from them.

Instant results! They've really helped to calm the situation down to such an extent that I've been able to cope, to get some much-needed sleep and to feel just that little bit in control. I've worn them 24/7 and yes, I do notice a difference when I take them off. But things are starting to get worse again now and despite the magnets the pain is driving me insane at the moment. If you can imagine every type of pain that you can, that's what's going on in both legs and hands, plus intense burning, the sensation of wasp stings, electric shocks, running water, all sorts of bizarre things. But this is perfectly normal. So that's all right then.

I had a wonderful boost last week when we went out not to see a doctor or a consultant but to see our best friends Kathy & Vince. Kathy & I have known each other since we were 12, which is, er, quite a few years now (!!) and it was so lovely to spend some time out of the house with people I know I can truly relax and be myself with. It did me the world of good - laughter really is the best medicine, and we always have plenty of that!!

Harper has done something extraordinary again today. It's usual for him, but I've never written it up before. I noticed we had some windfalls from the apple tree so, armed with a plastic bag, I gingerly ventured up the garden to rescue them from the local wildlife. Now, Harper seems to think that I should not be allowed out on my own because it's not safe (he's got a point) and he feels it is his responsibility to guard me at all times lest I do something stupid. So he escorts me, keeping only a short distance away and watching me like a hawk. Just in case.

The thing is this. Once I'd finished collecting the apples I slowly started to make my way back. Harper raced on ahead, content that I had managed to survive this perilous adventure. He reached the patio and turned round, then sat down to wait for me to reach him. Halfway down the garden things went funny. I almost blacked out. I struggled to maintain my balance and the world suddenly went very weird and out of focus and then black and white. I don't know how long this lasted. Fortunately I didn't fall or faint and as I gradually came back to reality and my eyes began to focus, I could see a small black and white face perring at me, the head cocked to one side. A more anxious and worried expression I have never seen. I just melted. I assured Harper that I was fine and that "it's all right" and he was happy again, but he still waited for me to reach him and came right up close to make absolutely sure.

You can see why he feels I can't be trusted to be out on my own, can't you? Bless him. He is the most extraordinary, amazingly intelligent cat. But he's more than a cat. He's - he's Harper. And we love him so much it hurts.