Post 524: It feels like a Friday, midweek.
White Rabbits.
Sometimes a simple suggestion on a day with nothing happening is something that ushers in a pair of smiles that we just can’t shake off.
Today is a good day and it’s just started.
My Darling has beat me to getting up and feed Mr Vicious to let me relax and catch up with zeds.
But that’s not going to happen because no matter how many promices I make to myself and my Darling, I need to get out of this bed which hurts my back and scuppers my rest.
I hate that I’m always reporting here on the blog that my back is in pain; but it is.
Twice in a week, today included, I’ve posed a question to my Darling about ‘how I feel I’ve done this year’ and ‘how My Darling thinks I’ve done?’
Now, the fact that we are talking more; inside and outside and in the princes chamber; it doesn’t mean that either of us are more relaxed and comfortable with talking right now, no, it also doesn’t mean I’m looking to engage in conversation more at the moment, it’s just the way it is.
But, the way my heart has sprung to life over the tattoos is rather remarkable and the one subject that’s on the tip of our tongues all the time. It’s the tattoos that have changed the background to our lives at this time.
So why has tattoos become the in-thing when it wasn’t long ago that we both deplored them and said we’d never have them and would never step into a tattoo parlour. It’s quite amazing how things have changed.
“For better or worse” is a piece of the vows we took while holding hands in that stunningly beautiful chapel in Ireland (36 years ago) and those words still hold firm today.
I know it not everybody’s cup of tea to have a “dirty” tattoo on them themselves, but it’s now the realisation we can treat ourselves to a forever message of love on the skin for all to see.
Going back to the question about how I feel I’m doing this year, I’m doing better month on month, but that’s not how she see it. My Darling points out that I’m in more pain and have less energy and cannot walk as far or as easily.
My breathlessness is a result of my weakening heart so lots of new drugs this year are helping its condition but my Darling sees the progression.
The scan showed progression of metastases in the bones, this also is more fuel for the fire.
So the answer was candid and worrying for her to manage as she stands by me, holding me up so often, waiting for me to fall. It’s not apparent to me but she sees everything.
We spoke about this situation as we ate and drank at a café the tattoo parlour side of town and while I munched on a bacon, cheese and bean toastie I listened to her worries. It’s about time I asked. I’m too slow at thinking through how difficult I make life for my dearest Darling. I forget that I’m ill.
We were to quickly spin back home so I could get my workwear on in case today’s tattoo session rolled over into my work time. Yes indeed that’s what I said. Another tattoo each. That’s what cheered us both up when I got up this morning (when I should have been sleeping), new tattoos.
We excitedly got back in time for the inky session to start and I was up first. I was span around to get the best needle vantage point and with a smile of impending torture on the tattooists face he started on my little masterpiece. My idea that I would hold still and take it like a man was totally wrong and his sting grip of me was just enough to hold me still. Oh boy did it hurt when the needle touched me.
This didn’t happen before, my other one was huge compared to this one but it wasn’t the size it was the location. Ouch!
Within 5 minutes mine was done and I joked it was a breeze, when it was anything but a breeze. But it wasn’t time for my Darlings tribute to Kev and something he repeatedly used in conversation on the phone “c’est la vie”.
It translates to “that’s life” which ironically coincided with the passing of Dame Estha Rantzen who presented a show, back in the 80’s, called “That’s life” may she RIP.
(Personally I didn’t like her, but she was a force to be recked with and was a tireless supporter of many a good cause. Without her many people’s suffering would have gone unnoticed).
An hour later and with plenty of time for me to drop her home, the tribute was inscribed on her upper arm above the portrait of Kev. It looked smashing.
I forgot to mention earlier that I had that blood test this morning at a quarter to ten which is another reason I got up early-ish.
Debbie the vampire called me in early, because I was in way too early, 15 mins too early to be exact, so the first thing after our fond greeting was to have her explain that this test is for Digoxin.
“Ahhhhhh, that makes sense now? I said, and left it at that.
I will hear in due course what’s going to be the action about me taking or not taking this new drug.
Sorted.
I also forgot to say that the optician is going to look at my letter (that I handed over the Boots opticians counter last week) which he will read this Thursday and contact me in due course.
I think a cuppa is in order after all that.
But lastly (I promise) I have to mention my insides, my mind, my poor tired head full of thoughts, good and bad. I had a call on Monday this week from my hospice counsellor inviting me to restart one-2-one sessions next Monday morning early which I gladly agreed to.
It’s time I let some of my anxiety out and she will help me.
Everyone please take care and good night.
