Post 254: Put your hand up in the air, if you think you’re not a square?
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My dastardly fingers are jumping around like gibbons in their favourite part of the rainforest. They go where they bloomin’ well like and return later to mess up my writing. I look away for a minute and there’s a load of gobbledygook.
RYou ntmmmy (more crap from the dancing fingers)
Sunday just isn’t Sunday without a roast, and due to the late and reheated Christmas dinner I had on Thursday evening — which was entirely my fault due to my back flip onto the kitchen floor — I was glad to help out by peeling and cutting a few veggie bits.
If I’m honest about my health, I’m frankly very uncomfortable with back aches and pains, but they are different aches and pains every week. One particular problem is with my right side shooting pain every time I move down by my hip. That’s rough and gets me down.
I’m sitting down in my TV lounge chair and reach up to kiss my Darling’s cold lips after the 30-minute drive home from work. I peck her on the side of her mouth and squeal like a pig in pain. The hip pain strikes again. Ouch!
That’s a pretty bad start to our free time this afternoon.
My right shoulder is getting worse and it’s time I asked for help with it. I can’t do anything now, and my arms are very important to my lower-body mobility. Grrrrrrr. The blinkin’ dancing fingers are so aggravating when I’m hovering over the letter pad on my phone — this is infuriating and slows down an already slow process.
Nothing much happened today. Nothing much happens any day, to be honest.
My day consists of a bit of tidying away bits that are mine. That isn’t much, nor does it help my Darling much.
I’m now thinking about the three months without treatment I have right now, which is my time to rest and do what I like, and I feel like I haven’t started it yet. I can hardly get in and out of a car and my Darling drives me most places most times. My neck issue from a couple of weeks ago has nearly all gone and it’s been replaced by other niggles, aches and pains.
I get up out of my chair like I need sticks to help me get along (which I haven’t got yet) and would benefit from rethinking my whole strategy for mobility.
I had a big meltdown last week when I received the payment slip to pay for it (the blue card for parking). Brilliant! But I don’t think I need it. Then again, when I read back this blog diary I can’t help thinking it’s exactly what I need right now. I stand and try to walk and I’m struggling to set off. When I do set off, I’m reminded of all the niggles I have that the Blue Badge can help me with — or as soon as I get the letter posted through the front door, it will be.
I’m getting a little anxious about the phone call I’ll have tomorrow with the government civil servant about the ESA I’m applying for. I’ve not had any sick pay for two months due to not being well enough for work during cancer treatment that is now 30 weeks since the start.
I’m such a dummy when it comes to benefits, so I’m uncomfortable with this call. I’ve got a few essential names and numbers written down and think I’ll be OK.
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The problem with my fingers is driving me nuts today and I’d really like to give up writing completely. It’s taking so long now to press a few buttons and create on paper what’s in my mind. It’s easy enough, surely — but not for me with all the drugs I’ve taken in the last eight months.
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So the three months are here and I don’t know what I can do.
I need to get rid of the pains and aches in my torso and arms. I want to have days out. We’ve been given a voucher for a well-known chain of hotels at Christmas by my eldest and his wife. But will I be able to actually go when the day arrives?
So I’ve got to sort out my right shoulder first and let the bruising from the chair fall get better. Then we can book that voucher for one of the posh hotels.
I’m wearing out the stair-lift in our house and…
(I’ve just had a moment of drowsiness and woke up having deleted half this blog — lucky for me there’s an undo button or else this phone would be in the u-bend of the upstairs loo by now.)
I’m struggling with tears now.
I’m a bit (a lot) of a failure.
I can hardly move because of my legs, and I struggle with my arms, especially my right shoulder. What kind of life am I having at the moment, or going to have in the future?
My Darling runs around after me and wears herself out. She has a brother’s funeral on Wednesday (which is the late Kev’s birthday, just to make it even more emotional). Talking to family on the phone is healthy but hopeless, with the likelihood of tears erupting at any time.
We can’t go to the funeral because of me. I’m a disaster area just lately.
Mostly bedridden but struggle out of the house from time to time. I’m not fit to weed our own garden.
I sleep well from time to time, in amongst dozing off all the time.
I’m not fit for work.
Not fit for a beer.
Not fit to book a local hotel for one night.
I’m worried about the call about claiming the ESA. What is that all about anyway?
I’d better go before I delete this moaning blog for good.
Which might be a good thing.
I’m a square.
Good night.
