Post 198: Over the hills and far away.
I’ve ended the day-out with legs like tree trunks and a burning pain in my chest where my rib is broken, and I’ve gone to bed sulking over a conversation that went west.
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It’s not always the cancer or the medication that is scary and hurts the most — it’s supposed loved ones that can destroy your faith in yourself and others.
How did a question about a train ticket end up with me receiving a verbal onslaught by someone close to me that I was hoping to get help from?
I’ve been in bed now for seven hours, and the leg swelling is easing back. The burning sensation is gone when I lie on that side of my ribs, so I’m feeling better about my body.
The day was pretty good, and the walk around Grasmere was, as usual, wet. So walking was quickly changed to a visit to one of the many cafés along the main street. There are as many galleries as cafés, so there’s plenty to choose from on a rainy day when everyone wants a hot cup of something to warm their cockles.
Afterwards we called it quits due to the enormous queue for the gingerbread shop and headed for Keswick and home, stopping for some shopping for a six-person raclette later for dinner. We even had enough time for a beer and stopped in a local hostelry for a rest before heading back — and that’s where it all went wrong.
I won’t go into the detail, but I have to say that I get it when someone on the forum is about to have a meltdown. I feel the frustration and exhaustion in the struggles we have to endure on top of everything else life throws at us.
It’s not enough that you’re tired and at your wits’ end with pain and constant pills, but on top of that, to endure a conversation turning into something like a lecture from a barrister… I don’t think I deserved being spoken to in that extreme manner, and worse still, I had no support from my son nor my Darling.
I can forgive them not jumping in and breaking up the chat — one-on-one was quite enough — but I was left alone and feeling like a failure as a man and a traveller.
End of rant.
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The fells were at their autumnal best today, and the unusually quiet trip home allowed me to be distracted and able to see the beauty in the hillsides — the colours and cascades of white streams cutting into the landscape, rushing down towards the lakes at their journeys’ end.
The mist and clouds were atop the highest fells, shrouding them from view as we drove past fast on the wet, twisting road.
I asked to be dropped off so I could get to bed for a rest as soon as possible — which I did. “I’ll be ok after an hour.”
In fact I missed the raclette and the fun that-is, cooking on a sizzling grill, until you’ve had your fill.
I feel better about the legs and rib, but I certainly don’t yet feel comfortable with all that happened today.
The bright morning’s greeting will recharge my batteries — I hope. I’ll reset my head and start fresh.
So I’d better get back to bed.
There are fireworks tonight. (That’s not a euphemism but a huge show in downtown Carlisle.)
I hope your day is bereft of conflict and filled with laughter.
