Post 356: Volunteering tax misdemeanour, and Big Sis.
I feel like a fraud today for two reasons. Firstly, a tax issue I’m having sleepless nights over, and secondly the fact that I feel like I’m not ill.
How is it that sometimes there’s a moment in the day or week when I feel completely normal? When the pains and aches associated with this horrible cancer go, and an imagined freedom allow you to step aside for a brief respite.
I was jumping in and out of bed like a pro today — sometimes without thinking, sometimes in what felt like a dream.
It was when I was on the phone to the tax office that I noticed it. I needed to verify the last four numbers from my account number, which I couldn’t recall, so I thought, “where the bloody hell am I going to get that from?” Then I remembered the card in my wallet, which was in my shorts, just out of reach near the bed.
I immediately jumped out of bed from a heads-up resting position, mobile in one hand and bed covers in the other. It wasn’t until I got back into bed that I realised how easy I’d made that look.
Anyway, I wasn’t quick enough to beat the timer on the AI person taking my details, but it didn’t matter. In a slightly robotic voice it said, “Do you want to proceed to an official who might be able to assist you?”
I pressed 2 for yes after it failed to understand my breathless “two”, and a piece of music broke the silence as I waited for a human to answer.
While I listened to the repeated message about how busy the line was — and how I could do everything online, apparently quicker — I cast my mind back to that little burst of athleticism, grabbing my wallet from the shorts I’d carefully placed on the floor the night before.
It crossed my mind — how could I have that sort of core strength again? What’s changed? Is this temporary, or could it be a more permanent improvement?
A voice on the phone asked for my details, which I gladly gave, and I explained my situation — a routine holiday booking from work that had turned into a financial worry with ESA limitations on earnings.
His response was that although it’s a bit of a “grey area”, there’s no reason to worry, as you hadn’t worked extra hours — it was simply holiday pay issue. However, he offered to log it for review, and within a week I should receive a call back with confirmation of what, if anything, needs to be done.
“Thanks, I’d like that,” I replied.
And so I wait.
I had got myself into a bit of a stew explaining it all, and during his earlier reply I found myself quietly crying with emotional overload — surely I should have been able to cope with something like that without breaking down.
Going back to the “athleticism” — I find it hard to judge how well I am sometimes, because so much is aided mechanically. So I tend not to bother comparing. But this was different. This was obvious.
In fact, over the course of the day there was another clear sign — walking unaided up and down the stairs.
I sometimes test myself on the stairs, just to see how I’m doing, but today there was an inner confidence — even a “need for speed”. I went up and down without stress or strain. I didn’t even think about it. I just did it — it was quicker to walk than take the slow chair-mobile.
Now, as I reflect on it, it feels quite an achievement.
I like the thought of a little improvement.
⸻
Later, after wiping away the tears — sadness and anxiety from the call, and then tears of joy from a glimpse of the “old me” — I opened the door to my dearest Big Sis.
It was lunchtime already, and we sat down to eat her hubby’s smelly but tasty egg rolls that she shared with me.
We chatted and moaned, laughed and groaned. We were happy to be together and able to rest from the week’s tiresome limitations.
It looked nice outside but it was freezing cold, so we sat in the warm conservatory, comfortably nattering away.
Before long my Darling was back from the weigh-bridge, the café and the superstore — and that meant it was nearly time for Big Sis to head home.
Another big hug, and she was off — Wales next week to see old friends.
I was left sitting beside my Darling, watching more antics from MAFS AU. Oh, the bitchiness and disharmony — the very reason we watch it for?
⸻
An early night was the best policy for my Darling, with her weekend work about to begin, so she hit the sack at 8pm, leaving me with an ostrich egg and K-dramas to wind down after the earlier storm (in a tv teacup).
And later… I walked up to bed…
Yes indeed. Another proper climb up the stairs.
Wow.
I’m happy for as long as this continues.
Live well, people.
Good luck
