Hello all three and a half of you!
I'm in that slightly surreal stage of being told my fit and healthy dad has 2 months to live. He's only been ill for 5 weeks. I know the NHS is speeding things up to unblock beds and get through backlogs; I would have hoped for slightly more time to convey everything that's just landed, like Tim Peake from a thousand miles above, on my shoulders.
There are simply too many things to try and wrap my head around. The Macmillan nurses are at dad's house tomorrow to make sure his morphine is covering the pain. The 3 kids are covering the overnights and practicalities. These have expanded from making sure the bedding's fresh and hoovering to, "Has he eaten today?"
I'm a Deputy Head in a secondary school in special measures and Ofsted are in tomorrow. I really am struggling with karma at the moment so it's probably a good job I'm Catholic; it is definitely pouring not raining.
Dad says, "Don't bloody sit there watching me, watch TV. Get into that school and show 'em how good you are." I know that my fabulous 'family' at school will help, but bloomin' OFSTED are in.
I will adhere to my dad's request. I'll give them hell but have appreciated venting. Thanks.
