Post 274: Oh yes we’re not!
The local players are playing up to the crowds this week and, as a nice surprise, my Darling is taking me Wednesday evening — oh no she’s not!
This will be the first time out since Christmas so I’d better make the most of it.
Well done, thank you my Darling.
Today followed the normal pattern: eat, swallow pills, and doze in front of the TV.
The dozing is part of me now, if it wasn’t before, but the life-draining smiles on shows seem to swallow me whole.
What has happened to me?
Gone are the 18–20 hour days and the immense amount of work and food consumed, with the healthy weekly buzz of success.
Gone are the days where my strength around the house meant I was able to tidy up everywhere and complete this or that essential work on the home, where afterwards, my arms and legs would need a couple of days to rest up and recover.
I miss those days.
I miss being able to do anything I liked. It’s tiring doing nothing.
Whatever I do, it’s never enough to excite or satisfy me.
My trusty Christmas present “back scratcher” has been in great use this week and I’ve no idea why. I’ve not felt there was a strong enough reason for all that itchiness.
Perhaps that’ll be put down as another blessed mystery, unlike the possible holiday away to Tenerife.
I’ve now quizzed my pal who’s an annual holidayer to the far-away island I’d like to get to know.
The heat during March–April time in Tenerife is easily hot enough for us, as it is for them, so we are onto a winner — if only we can find the time to book it, but only after the insurance is organised by our own fair hands of course. At least we have a base to start from. It’s certainly something to look forward to.
Likewise is the slightly larger car. That could also bring new thoughts about travel — road travel. Let’s hope my arm gets better soon and I become the lead driver again. It’s a necessity, not a hope.
The laying down of plans for my “last show and party” is going to happen Monday and I’ve started a list of wishes. My Darling is really getting behind my need to do this, which is wonderful. I can’t do it on my own; I need my Darling’s input for every single step. It’s tough but it’s for the best.
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As for the counselling homework last week where, the love for my kids being rarely mentioned, was an interesting thing to come out of our chats, I’d say there’s no actual problem is there — but I would say that, wouldn’t I.
I would say that I, we, think the efforts of our intensive rearing of both children was enough for a lifetime of resting on our “love” laurels.
We spent every ounce of energy we had to educate and entertain them in a meaningful and loving environment that set them up to have a most fruitful start in life. I guess, for me, that all that love given back then was all I could give them forever.
Hence the lack of a perception of love now — is that fair to say?
Who knows?
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“All because the lady loves…” (the neighbour? ha ha ha!) Milk Tray — other chocolates are also available.
I was watching a programme on TV the other day where 1980s adverts were scrutinised with today’s eyes and rules. Well, that was never going to be very fair, was it?
It wasn’t till the 90s when TV adverts became so confusing and the products so hidden that sometimes it was impossible to tell what was being sold.
But even then its wasn’t PC.
The 80s had the OXO Family nostalgia and the Hamlet cigar funny ads. Then came along “Nicole?” “Papa”, and the orange-covered man — “you’ve been Tango’d” — and of course the very confusing Guinness dancing man.
All crazy after the simple stuff that came before — and I’d rather watch.
Where did Captain Birdseye sail off to anyway?
Leading from dancing men to my dancing fingers, I have learned something about them lately.
The morning for me can only be described as a lazy waste of the day, but by the afternoon I’m getting tired. The afternoon tiredness now shows itself by my forearm aches.
My right shoulder is bad enough on its own, but the uncontrollable pain and aches are signs that muscle wasting is some of the cause of the dancing fingers, and partly due to my knackered nerves.
The chemo is a friend for some time when it’s pushing back the cancer, but obviously at the cost of many other parts of the body which are attacked and forever changed. My whole nervous system is buggered. It’s not till now that it’s possible to see what’s happening.
Five months since the end of the chemo I’m now well rested and ought to be totally recovered. But the recovery is not total.
Some parts of me are back to normal, but the nerves are shattered.
The gabapentin painkillers I’m on help in that department, but my extremities are not helped at all. The “shakes” I get in my fingers are here to stay, sadly.
So the afternoon tiredness is accelerating the shaking fingers I’m suffering with. I’m better off with an evening nap to calm the nerves and allow me better control of my keyboard fingers.
I’m blaming the chemo.
It’s another side effect and a forever problem.
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I’m starting to relax about the benefits I’m now getting with assistance from that SR1 form, but that SR1 status is a lot to deal with — hence “the last show and party” arrangements.
It makes sense to me. That’s all that matters — like a 90s advert, it’s my party and I’ll have it the way I want it.
Good night.
