It's Sunday morning and I am very tired. I probably only have myself to blame. I think I have not been resting properly. I suppose I have done just a little bit too much housework and tidying up since Thursday. My husband is going to visit my parents this morning, so I decide I will go with him. Yes it will make me sit still for a couple of hours, but it doesn't help my mood.
Firstly I am frustrated. My parents live half a mile away from me. It is a ten minute walk. But of course we have to go in the car because at the moment I can't even walk round my garden. (I know this because I have tried.) So we get there and of course they are delighted to see me. But I can't give them a hug or kiss, strict orders re low immune system. I can't even say much to them, hardly any voice at the moment. Can't be of much practical help to them these days, professionals do most of that for them now. I feel guilty as it is costing them money, and I even feel a bit inadequate as of course these people are much better at cleaning, ironing, gardening and hairdressing. So I sit quietly in the corner, mainly smiling and waving at them, whilst my husband does some chores.
But do we come straight home? On no, I have this wonderful idea, I want a little drive round the town. It will lift my spirits. But of course it doesn't. I just feel worse when we drive past my office, all the shops I haven't been to in weeks, and all the restaurants I wish I could be eating in. We get home, I have my tube feed and I am sent to bed for a nap.
Have nap. Still tired. Look out of the bedroom window. I can see people on the way to the beach. The beach is a four minute walk away. I miss the beach. I want to go now. But of course I can't. I also have a bizarre craving for a Big Mac and Fries. This will not go away. It is strange because I haven't been to a MacDonalds in years. I am not keen on fast food, any processed beef product, or those thin salty fries. I like big fat chips with no salt. But I don't fancy those. I want a Big Mac and fries. Now.
Husband administers my next tube feed and I am sent back to bed for a further nap. The poor man has the patience of a saint. I remember dozing off to sleep with him patting my hand and promising to take me to MacDonalds as soon as I am better.
