Post 282: s4a — Survivalists 4th age.
s4a Decrepit, Dissolution with Dignity.
So where do I start explaining why I’m all for pigeon-holing myself in this new definition of the last stage of life.
Many of you are not in the s4a yet and I’m mighty glad you’re not. But I’ve realised that sadly I’ll be skipping the u3a — I’m never going to enjoy that fine club due to a well know cancer that has other plans for me.
So I’d like to offer up a new age to suit my and lots of other people’s circumstances;
The s4a. It’s only these last few weeks that I’ve realised the reality of many things that I will miss. (“miss” in two definitions; notice the loss of and fail to reach)
With this in mind I’ve come to the conclusion that the age of being cared for is where I am. I have to face facts and many things I was used to being able to do until very recently I can’t any more.
Gasp! I hear… I’m not at all giving in or giving up but I am thinking about how I navigate my new world so differently now.
How can things change so quickly, what can I do to slow down the decay, how can I support my loved ones while they watch on with anguish, can I outsmart this cancer?
These are all good questions I can’t answer yet, but I will give it a go in the next few months.
Up the s4a
———
In other news…
I’ve been in bed all day.
It’s warm and I don’t need to get out of bed.
My darling will get back from work at which time she’ll have a nap, and when she gets up so will I. Probably.
Tomorrow I’ll be called by the insurewith people to give me the once over after the quote ended with a warning to fetch help when assessing my health for this one trip to Tenerife. Let’s hope it’s a good one, without any tears (as someone sung a long time ago)
I foresee another call to them if we get this holiday off the ground and choose another destination to holiday to, when the same process is applied and the dreadful call will be another 45 minutes or more. “Such fun”
Next after the call is an optical test to start the ball rolling on a quest for new glasses. Maybe sunglasses if the above call goes well. I really don’t expect any issues regarding my sight but you never know do you. I want to then spoil my Darling. I was my usual stupid self today. After she made dinner and not only brought it up to me but also brought up the last slice of stollen and a cup for hot tea. It was then when I had an incident with the tv and I blew off about it as she sat beside me. I acted like a spoilt child and deserved a slap but all I got was love and calmness. What a nightmare I am sometimes, all the time?
I wish I could hold my tongue but I can’t and I’m getting worse.
My dancing fingers have been sitting out today. I’ve enjoyed a peaceful day and not to much shaking, rocking and rolling.
May the rest be the cure to my dancing digits.
I should drop a little poetry into this blogette today but I’ll not be because it’s Burns night. The Scottish bard would cry into his whisky if a’ did, so I won’t. Salt water is not a good mixer with the malt. So if you’re enjoying a wee dram or two, I do indeed salute you and young Robbie.
Oidhche mhath (Oh-Chey Vah)
