I was briefly inspired to draw my impressions of the weekdays (previous post). But it didn't amount to anything, Another time maybe.
This week we seem to be working working working. M is busy with uni classes and (no surprise to me) he achieved a Distinction for his first assignment. I TOLD you he wouldn't get a pass! He's sort of pleased but I think still expects the 98.5% he (over)achieved in his previous semester (before the accident). I seem to recall feeling somewhat like that when I was studying, but I never achieved such lofty marks!
We've been trying to sort out the contents of the house and garden, finalise the mortgage, re-work the architect's plan, apologise to the cat, get to class, cookwashsewknitdomesticate, see umpteen doctors all the time, get to physio, manage our 3-tiered diary system (yes, folly I know) and have some sort of leisure. Tricky but possible as long as you don't look at the floor.
Today the cleaner came. Hurray for the cleaner! I think he had to rake the carpet before he vacuumed.
Tomorrow M must fast from 7am before having a small procedure at day surgery. We hope this will lead to a long-term improvement in his general health by clearing up a source of recurring infection. M blithely announced we would be returning from the hospital (at 6pm) by BUS. At NIGHT. In (relatively) PEAK HOUR. I don't think so. I just sent messages to our three favourite taxi drivers to see if we can get a lift home. I don't fancy a post-sedated M in a power chair on a bus with lots of people. Well, only as a spectator sport..
It feels a bit like we've got a routine. I suspect it's dangerous to say that but .. I live in hope!
This post brought to you by quite a lot of Prada, sprayed in M's room last night when the carers said it smelled of cabbage in there... as far as I know M doesn't secretly cook brassicas in there at night, but it was a good excuse!
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