..on the understandable but not always easy to tolerate focus of the invalid. On the long-time resident of hospital recently discharged into the rather dodgy care of the wife. Or even on the battered relying on the lame..
Lame pretty much describes my abilities today. Two friends are mourning two excellent moggies. The new 'case' 'manager' visited and told us she's been approved for a whole five hours of work. She'll be working very hard to get across all the services and coordination we need from her then!
Caveats, killer caveats. The company that has this awesome power over our lives has managed to wield its stick quite effectively at us today. We're upset, frustrated and horrified. Somewhere in there we signed more important papers to do with the house mods starting.
I figure this blog has to stay real for me to be interested, so the bad days have to get some press as well.
Move along, no sunshiney sweetness here today. Sorry.
We slept more, ate poached eggs for lunch, watched a dvd all arvo, held hands and ignored all business matters. The list of missed calls/texts on my phone was ridiculous. Who is BLOCKED and why won't he/she leave a message?
It can wait. If whatever 'it' is doesn't require more calls or at least a message, I don't care (today).
I had a LAVISH shower very late (lavish = more than 3 mins and more than a basic soap sluice. Unguents were carefully chosen and applied with abandon. Slathering and lathering is excellent physio btw. Choosing which pretty tube to try next was adolescently exciting!!). Felt great. Smelt great. I roold for a bit after that!
Went to pick up Persian casserole from me ma (chicken with prunes, pomegranate seeds and much pilaf-y goodness). Collected Custard Cremes on special and some weird fig/chocolate/lemon icecream to try.
We had a nice time watching the Svensk police show, set in Ystad (southern Sweden) where we've been. Some of the town scenes show streets and the central city square we remember very clearly. Nice. One part of the episode had some mild swearing in it but we can't quite catch the word for 'shit'. I like using such words from other languages but don't know nearly enough of them...
[M refused to teach me any bad words in Mandarin, when we lived in China. I think he felt my command of anglo-saxon creative cursing would keep me going.. one day we were wobbling along on Beijing bikes (old, rickety and we didn't know the road rules) and M hit a bump. He let fly with an 'Oh f@%k!!". A group of young men watching us pass laughed and called after us 'Oh ffaaaar!! oh ffaaarr!' until we got out of range. I giggled a lot. M was not impressed. He still wouldn't tell me how to respond in kind. Later that day *I* was given a sheet of printed info but not him, as we drove around the district. He translated THAT for me, it was a natural cure for impotence. I'm still laughing at that one!]
Later a check of FBook shows that some people have had a very different kind of day. One dear friend has a kitty very short of life chances. The great purple kitty cushion next to the great kitty bowl of sardines and cream is looming.. poor baby. I want to visit him soon so he can play in my car and give me a good old fat-faced purry rub before he floats off to his ultimate kitty-cloud.
Another friend saw her child hit (no, not serious in physical damage) by a car and is naturally dreadfully shaken. The child has a bruised nose and seems fine. Poor mama (and no doubt papa and many close family and friends) have all had a mortality check today. These things just happen in a split second in time, and the 'nearly but not quite' situations we've all been in will be very stirred up for a while. This friend hesitated to fulfill her desire to go back to skul to hug her elflet: the need for reassurance and connection is so strong. Just as with the msgs of sadness for dear sick kitty, the shock and sympathy for a possibly very nasty outcome for the elflet is our own need to integrate compassion and a sense of 'you are not alone' into our words of comfort.
A newly-found skul-mate is struggling with periods of loss of sense of humour, as (I assume) various irks and anxieties loom at her. She's living alone and that can be a challenge at times when you have to try to comfort/encourage/support yourself. I just hope she's got a 6 pack of her favourite tipple and a reeeaallly big glass and will read the silly message I sent earlier.
It's very very interesting to be meeting old skul mates after 35 years of no contact. I remember many things with crystal clarity; the downside is the rest I seem to have totally forgotten. But since I've grown up in the meantime (in age if nothing else) I can follow where people are at, a bit better. This pal seems to be living a similar life to mine (in the ten years 'between husbands' period). During this time I achieved a huge amount of personal insight, experience, confidence and achievement, and also learnt a bit about being alone and trying to find motivation from within, when having a partner or parent or someone loving to hand wasn't possible. I think this pal is such a honey and I wish we could find more time to fill in all those years of life that passed by..
I hope tonight all familys concerned (and all of you out there who may need a psychic bandaid of some kind, or may be fragile for any number of reasons) will accept a big cyber-squish from me. One of those hugs where you nuzzle hair, squish boobs/feel all the stuff in a bloke's shirt pocket, and stand on tip-toe to make the most of the close contact to send your message of love and caring. I'm imagining a circle of dear ones surrounding the kitty/kiddy families, and sort of dancing gently around them all until the affection overcomes the sadness and the shock.
And there should be a bunch of old skul farts mooching around at my pal's place, feeling awkward about PDAs but meaning well. Someone just put on a Peter Framptom record for us and soon we'll all be holding onto someone and dancing around. Laughing at our funny out-of-date music. We'll (c)rock-on to Living In The 70s and feel our ancient oats one more time.
Tomorrow is Facing Up To Business Day. I am fortifying myself with red socks, the daggy hairband hairdo, and the promise of Saturday to come within 24 hours. Big Brekky day!
I'm rambling a bit. Never mind. Better than doing housework, wrangling lists or gargling pain tabs as I often do at this time of day. In fact.. what was that about icecream? Maybe I should try it with a sleepy-time nip of bourbon on top. Purely medicinal I assure you.
Later I will draw a picture of what I've been doing. For now I'd like to mention that today, as of about 2 hours ago, marks fourteen years of blissful wedded bliss for us. Which means in three month's time, it's been fifteen years since we met! And HASN'T the time flown!
No I'm not being ironic. Sometimes life goooeess veeerrry sloooowwwly for sad or mad reasons. I've had times like that - I look back and wonder how each day ever passed. Like oh for example, the non-sleeping, non-eating baby who was (not surprisingly) a bit grumpy for quite a long time til he worked out how to eat. Then he had to work out how to raise his parents. Poor lil chap.
Time moves faster when things are going well or very very badly. And I'm not fishing for sympathy when I say we've had a bit of both lately. I'm GLAD I can't really remember what it was like for the first few months, when M was in Intensive Care and life was so far beyond upside-down .. I'm glad HE can't really remember either. Like the early days with a baby, the repetition and intensity make memory blurry when you look back. And what a relief to be able to forget some of it! These days we still surprise ourselves with the trivial things that make us tetchy. I hold back from being really Pollyanna and saying 'well isn't it a BLESSING that we are so CALM and GOOD now that we can swear at the WEATHER, or pout if the bloody RED face washer makes the WHITE wash go pink again'.. but I think I'm enjoying the lack of Big Scary Things Which Must Be Attended To.
Just don't ask me about my to-do list..
We're celebrating in two perhaps slightly odd ways - M got his first major assignment in. Yes, !!!!!!!!!! This essay has taken quite a toll, given he was back in hospital with pneumonia; then not long after that feeling grim and on bed rest. And then trying to convalesce while being nagged by physios, dodging the exploding wife, and coping without a cat in the house. But he has pushed and pushed and studied and offered dire predictions about only getting a scant pass mark (yeah right) and dithered and gloomed.. and refused to let me read it (no doubt cos I'd be annoying positive and encouraging and HELPFUL and sometimes you need to d and g to keep yourself focussed).. BUT today while I was wrangling a computer at Real Home (while Miss Wendy tried to sit on my back) he texted me to say it was submitted. My shoulders felt a great weight fall, then a little prickle of claws..
My odd celebration was a call from the bank from a bloooke caaaallleed Peeeettteeerr whooo taaaalllkeed reeealllyy slllooooowwwwlly but eventually got to the point which is that our loan to cover the house mods is APPROVED. I will refrain from putting another twenty exclamation marks in, but you get it don't you????
We are delaying an official celebration until tomorrow, when it might have stopped raining and being a bit too cold to go out. I fancy taking the bus (stop that laughing) into town and having something immoderate for lunch and then finding a cd shop. Possibly a bit of hand-holding. Certainly not any more of the work I've been trying to do all week. A day off, ferfu.. er .. I mean, please.
I looked at some perfume today. Big-boned Molly's mum will be horrified to hear that I gave into temptation and bought a version of Cabotine - Cabotine "Rose". Forgive me BBM'sM; I will at least not send it to you! (it's very nice but)...
.. so he's in bed. I'm dashin about lodging forms for things and being efficient and such. Again.
I read some amusing stuff on one of my favourite blogs today (www.yarnharlot.com.ca) about one's Inner Knitter. I'm not sure whether the blog entry or the comments are funnier. But there is some priceless stuff about the Inner Adolescent which gave me a good laugh in the middle of a bit of an ordinary day. I think my condition is more one of adolescent senility..
M is going to be fine. No ambulances to be seen here, move along please.
No perfume was harmed in the writing of this post. However a dire need for a cat arose and I'm not sure how best to assuage it. Going home isn't possible just now.
That's good. Maybe it's something in the water, maybe not; but Easter didn't shine my shoes this year. I did nice things, saw nice people, even took some photos...
It's true to say life is somewhat the same for us, regardless of which day of the week it is. The iron-clad timetable of carers in, three times a day; M's daily routine etc which must be fitted into the carer and pharmacological routine, is also pretty rigid.
Maybe I need to work on floppy?
Currently waiting for good cooking smells to fill the flat (corned beef in red wine, anyone?) and my personal fabbo-meter to register a small ~eep~.
Thanks to the vagaries of a life ruled by the forces (and farces) of an insurance company, I've had to pay out multiple many shekels of hard-earned superannuation recently.
Now we are reduced to eating toasted gravel and re-using our socks for teabags. Yes, I will eventually (and that's a loooong eventuation) be re-paid, after a fight about the details and no doubt lots of nice expensive correspondence via the solicitor.
It's absolutely NOT fair, but it is the way it has to be. They are indeed liable; the crucial question is 'for how much?' and that is what all the arguing and denying and madness is about. We forge on, counting our small triumphs as we go, and trying not to get caught in the emotion of it all.
I have wondered, sometimes, how any decent person could work for such a company, but of course it's not about us or the human element or fairness in general, it's just business. They want to protect their investment from illegal claims and make their shareholders happy. When we feel like we're being singled out, we're wrong. Not only does every person making a claim have to go through a similar process (not necessarily as complicated a process as ours, but the same basic forces apply); every person is both benefitting and being compromised by this process. Our claims for third party or flood damage or burglary are all equally subject to the scrutiny and regulations that rule this industry and guide how it operates.
That doesn't make it easier. It just makes it impersonal. It's not ME, or M, who is being treated this way. It's claim # 550293B-iiZ and it goes through all the office processes just like every other claim.
Some of you who read this blog may find this concept comforting, or become even more annoyed or frustrated for us! Don't, though. Remember we have excellent help; we're in the right, and we WILL get M home and get back to whatever our new lives are going to be.
I, myself, may need to sit down heavily for a bit once the settlement is settled. Possibly requiring some spontaneous unnecessary pamper-shopping to relieve my feelings via unguent-therapy. M may feel he needs to acquire another 200 books. Whatever works, once we get there.
I visited Little Miss Wendy's house tonight to borrow the vacuum cleaner. She squeaked and rubbed and meowwwwed and demanded foods until I gave in, although it was clear her evening meal had already been served and thoroughly consumed. Then she led me to my side of the bed and indicated I might lie down for her delectation.
As I was unable to oblige (needing to return to my honey) I am sorry to report that as I departed, she was stomping around the kitchen snarling to herself about being quicker on the uptake to bite me when she has the chance.
We are calmly wending our way towards Easter. My explosion-count is down. M is recovering well from the last hospital experience. Here he is watching opera, attended by his faithful moi..
He is making me go with him on the BUS to get things done in the city shops. BUS!! Princesses don't DO buses do they?
Apparently, yes they do. Hmm. [I should add that the bus is incredibly convenient - the driver lowers the bus to pavement level, then nips out and unfolds the ramp. An unexpected side effect is that (so far) they've refused to charge either of us a fare. Nice. It takes ten minutes to get into the city so I really can't complain. But I do note that I am not as flexible as I used to be about bumpiness!]
The bus, going the other way, stops at several other very useful places, like M's favourite pub, the shops where the late-night chemist is (much-frequented by me of late); one stop up is M's church, and a little way further we can get off and it's a 15 minute walk home. Whence we wend our way to Wendy.
Sorry, I just had to say that!
I can't smell a thing so I can only hope that this post is brought to you by eau de spag bol, clean linen and a thoughtful pshht of Gucci (cos why should the rest of you miss out??).