Post 292: Three miles this week and lovely flowers, lovey people.
With the holiday only two weeks away, surely nothing can stop us, but I feel a creeping sense of foreboding any time I’m told to behave and get down from the neighbour’s roof.
Not really — only joking 
So the cleaner came today and after last week’s first-time, where I kept well away from getting in his way, this week I was quite relaxed and rubbed shoulders (in a nice way) with him in the hall.
He has already settled in and he knows the Alexa controls very well judging by the loud music blaring away later in the couple of hours he was here. It’s like the neighbours’ kids are back again with their country and western boogie-box.
But actually I quite like the music he chose, so that was handy.
It’s a good fit to have housework help. It’s really made an impact on my Darling and her pile of weekly chores.
I’ve noticed the dancing fingers and mental rabbit-hole investigations are back, which I put down to the oral morphine I’ve added to my daily medication lately. I need the pain control, but I don’t need the sleepiness and silly stories I’m having lately in the day and at night.
It’s really off-putting to have these dreams loosely connected to my situations. But the recurring ones stink and upset me.
Oh the bloody fingers, they’re jumping around like…..
(I gave up for over an hour and hopefully the fingers will behave now…)
I have counselling tomorrow morning and I’ll ask about the dreams, but also about intrusive thoughts.
I’ve always had those intrusive thoughts, and I’ve considered myself weird and dangerous but never told anyone about them obviously.
I’ve said before that my father and his father were exceptionally biased towards non-confrontation. In fact both showed their true colours with their choice of career during wartime, as they both went into the RAMC, Royal Army Medical Corps.
As for me, I didn’t have to choose, but at some stage during these blogs I haven’t mentioned the one and only time as a 12-year-old I hit someone (with my school briefcase) one evening walking back from school. The next night I was returned a full stars-around-my-head fist to the jaw. That was the start and end of my fighting prowess; but it did show very clearly where my fists lie — which is “safely by my side”.
But these intrusive thoughts are beyond imagination. Beyond my own morals and beyond belief.
In the nightmares it’s mental fear that rises up like bile, but the intrusive thoughts are scarily clear acts of violence at a point in the day when an opportunity arises. They are sudden and usually in a space which is quiet and solemn, but these instantaneous and hideous moments are so life-like.
Moving on swiftly.
Earlier, while the cleaning lad was dancing around the downstairs of the house with a hooverand duster, I had pulled on my runners onto my slightly oedema-ridden feet and walked onto the treadmill. There is no evidence as the camera on my phone was recharging upstairs. So I haven’t any proof that in my usual body testing way I upped the mph to 3.0 today. This was because I was well rested yesterday and I could always do with finding my breakpoint. No, I’m not trying to kill myself on the treadmill, merely trying my best to see what boundaries I have. Anyway, I lasted the 30 minutes for a cool 1.5 miles — although I was sweating in my thick sweatshirt.
Well done me. I even did a couple of laps of the garden to cool down. That was the worst thing I could do because of the weeds in my garden that need a good tidying up. I’ll do a bit each day if it doesn’t rain of course, every day. Just a 30-minute weeding session. Really. I promise…
The holiday exercise program is ticking along on the treadmill, and with an easy 3 miles walked this last week (on alternate days) and to complement that I have no visible bruising on my back except for a big brown bruise at the base of my spine, so I found out when I asked my kind-hearted wife with the ice-cold hands to check for me. Brrrr.
So I’m on a perfect trajectory towards a fun and healthy holiday. Gone are the troubling thoughts of me being an invalid…
For now.
So with the 1.5 miles done I was able to get ready for the guests at 2:30 pm.
These personal friends we met and have kept a close friendship with for over ten years-ish.
They arrived spot-on time and I met them at the door to some flowers and biscuits and fiercely tight hugs, showing the kind of friends we are.
The kettle was clicked on and the four-way table went something like this; girl-girl-boy-boy.
That meant that after an exchange of words with all four of us it split up to noisy two-by-two chats without much thought.
Us boys were talking one side of the table about household stuff and bills, old bikes and old cars and other really important stuff, obviously, and the girls talked utter nonsense, ha ha ha.
Sorry, that’s not true, we were all talking nonsense, ha ha ha.
My mate is well over seventy but looks very well for it and us youngsters (the rest of us) are late 50s and early sixties.
(My dancing finger is having a right laugh today — I’ve just corrected the “are late 50’s” for a jaw-dropping “are late 500’s”) Well, I’m disgusted! Ha ha ha.
The air fryer was on doing its efficient thing with four luscious hot-crossed buns, and the kettle was on again.
They were fidgeting in their seats and when we looked up nearly three hours had passed by unnoticed.
We waved them goodbye with another round of strong hugs as they left for home. What a special and lovely visit.
They know I’m not well with the dreaded PC so it was a kind gesture to pop over for a chat.
Mr Vicious was on parade late but he sniffed and left our guests with some unwanted cat hairs, but that’s life.
I sat in the lounge chair and we started watching a bit more Mr Mercedes on Netflix but I was asleep within a couple of minutes. I was flipping between both awake and alert states, trying to listen and watch through my closed eyelids, and nearly breaking my poor neck when I was reminded by my Darling that I’m missing something important, or to go to bed and rest a while. Either way, I stayed there stuck between the two states of “start up” and “shut down” all the remaining afternoon until dinner roused me for a while.
A happy day but not without pain here and there, so I took a bit of Oramorph here and there but only when it was needed after our guests left.
Am I getting better?
I doubt it.
I force myself to be big and strong and just carry on, but I have random pain in the right upper arm and the back, but there’s nothing particularly that needs any attention.
My Darling carries pains here and there as well and I try not to get into a pain war at any time.
We are both suffering and she more than me, for sure.
Good night.
