Post 373: Confusion and tiredness.
How is it that last week I had so much energy and this week I’m struggling to get out of bed?
Can I really have used up all the calories? Surely not with all the lovely chocolate abounding.
Yesterday’s poetic post was busting to get out of me, and did, but it meant I didn’t tell you about the visitors we had.
After I had a session of clearing and cleaning and doing the stuff we all do to make order out of disorder in the home— for the friends coming later, who probably don’t care what the place looks like (all with my left hand I’ll have you know). This was a real test of my right shoulder but I really didn’t feel the op aches asat all, even though I had no extra pain relief. I was in my element. Again, perhaps a little too OCD, but order out of chaos is my thing and I felt better that I’d made an effort.
My Darling came home with her usual worn-out look just before the visitors arrived, so I sent her to bed, saying that I could easily look after the guests till she had a good old nap. It didn’t end up being a long nap, but it did refuel her tanks enough to be the bright and cheerful host all afternoon as we’ve come to rely on.
They arrived—my Goddaughter and her fiancé—and we decided to have a drink and chat outside in the sunshine.
There’s not much shade on the patio where we sat around a big plastic table, and we soon forgot about my Darling sleeping upstairs—until she arrived down beside us, blaming our raucous laughter for waking her up. By then we needed hats to shade up from the burning sun. We have a trove of hats to suit anyone and we all looked a pretty picture with our protective bonnets.
We all apologised waking my Darling up and returned to laughing, chatting and drinking. Even I had a beer. Why yes, I just wanted one for a change.
Do you think I should now put “drinker” on forms that ask me how much I drink?
I’ve forgotten when I had the last beer—it might have been in the Blue Lagoon down in Dorset when I had a pint of Guinness. So does one pint a month count?
I guess it does. But it’s not really anything to worry about.
Later on, when there were thoughts about food, our arms were not twisted much before the unanimous decision was made to have a kebab from the local shop via their online app.
While we were just starting to eat, I got a call from little bro, who was coming down with his youngest a little later on — the youngest is the rugby player (under 17s).
We were cleared up before the whirlwind came in and blew us all around the place with stories of school, sisters and boyfriends, and the hired help she had to train at the pub on her shift this afternoon (washing up).
We were in stitches with the tale of stupidity this newbie gave us all. I doubt she’ll last long if she doesn’t pick up this simple task. She’ll be all washed up (oh dear).
Anyway, we were eating biscuits and chocolates and I had mistakenly given them all some of my precious ostrich egg, which I had broken up and left in the fridge for a better crunchy bite…
But to me and my Darling’s surprise—and indignation—all said they didn’t like the dark chocolate, no matter how expensive it was…
I felt the world could swallow up both my Darling and me.
I was thinking that I was giving everyone a priceless piece of my gorgeous gift from my Darling, and I wish I’d kept it all in the fridge. I was a little embarrassed for my dearest, who I could see was struggling inside.
I wanted to hug her and get rid of all the guests so I could comfort the slight distress I’d caused in trying to be generous.
Well, I won’t do that again.
We chatted on and eventually got outside before the light was gone, and with the sun setting fast, and I was absolutely made up with the motorbike I had the energy to fix this week, which started promptly, and my little bro had no difficulty with the clutch. Deep joy.
Forgotten was the Hotel Chocolat treat, now hidden back in the fridge. Now I was in my element, with everyone surrounding the bike while it ticked over and gears were selected smoothly with ease by little Bro who now was getting positively excited with his ability. What a success. My lovely bike is back in action, and everyone saw it—to prove I had a little win for a change.
It’s hard to get a positive reaction to anything I’ve done, but this was worth all the pain (but don’t tell the good lady of the house, please).
My Darling was the first away and went up to bed; our guests closely followed after a bit more chatter and fun—ending a great day.
A day that is the opposite of today.
With me in bed all day, I had a bit of drama on TV—K-drama. Some reading and sleeping, but also I used YouTube (other tubes are available) to look at some exercises for post-op hydrodilatation patients, to allow a bit of extra movement and, hopefully, more strength. I found, I liked, and I saved the best videos of all the progressions to the basic exercises I’ll be doing first—tomorrow.
I made a few arrangements while in bed too.
My youngest agreed to have a day out with me and Olive, my old Volvo, which is now entered in a local Magnificent Motors presentation, and we will go rain or shine.
So, on to an appointment to have a second chat with my celebrant this Tuesday. That will be a bit of fun and hopefully I’ll stop talking and let my Darling have her say.
And now on to me and how I’m feeling…
It’s interesting.
I don’t know if I’m more confused than I should have been today, but also very sleepy, with naps every five seconds. I couldn’t really concentrate on my book, so watched TV—but I just kept falling asleep.
My ribs are starting to bother me. I’ve mentioned them before and I wonder if I should wait for more pain before telling the specialist nurse.
None of the pains are bothering me—in fact it’s only when I lie on them that I feel anything at all.
No, I’ll keep quiet.
The sleepiness is a bother, but on a day when I didn’t need to be up, who cares? I’m allowed to rest all day—it’s because I’ve got cancer.
The hospice nurse will ring sometime soon and I could ask them what they think. They are indeed the experts.
Pills, pills, pills.
That’s my life—a life of pills.
The pill alarms are regular but still I sometimes forget to take them due to being sidetracked, with my attention span of five seconds and memory easily confused.
I can see I’ll have to have pill boxes set out like a real old dear.
I’m not looking forward to that.
Well that’s it for now. I’m probably not drinking enough either, so I’ll have a good old swig of water before I retire to bed.
Good night.
Take care.
