annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary



So. Weekend with daughters. Harder than expected because - ach, I don't even know why. It was ferociously windy which made driving more of an effort, and there's shit going on in the care home which I can't even describe let alone take on - it's nothing that bad, we hope, and it's being dealt with, we hope, but confidence has been undermined and there's nothing we can do.

I also think that the fucking bizarre, random strands of remaining mental capacity ED retains are beyond our understanding and they all ebb and flow and fluctuate so we don't know where we are or where she is, but she gazes adoringly at us through eyes that barely see and what kills me the most is her face when we arrive on the first day, before we've spoken, before she's heard us, when she is how she is without us - her face then, it kills me, but what can I do? You cannot imagine HOW MUCH I want to live near her so that I could visit every day, but it's really really fucking expensive up there (which is why they have such trouble keeping non-medical staff) and I would go under pretty quickly without all the shite I have in place to keep me as near to stable as possible - but it always comes back to being unsure whether living far away is one of those things I need the courage to change or the wisdom to accept.

While we were there it wasn't all bad. We went back to Marlow because we couldn't face the uncertainty of somewhere new. We took nuts and seeds to assuage the scary wildfowl:

but they still come right out of the water to harass a person:

It's good though as they're not going to actually hurt us but are still loud and unpredictable, which ED enjoys. We walked much further than ever before along the towpath and would have gone further still, but the path continuously tilted towards the river and ED tends to lean that way as well so it just became too hard to keep the chair steady. Again, all good really as she loves a bit of jeopardy. Hearing either me or YD going, "Yikes!" or, better still, "Fucking hell!" with urgency, always makes her giggle excitedly... but she doesn't speak any more, so it's fucking bittersweet as hell, the things we take as positives. But then again, it's always good to have a giggle out in the brisk January air and we didn't let the wheelchair tip over, not once.

And I came home and reversed my car into this tiny space, first time, no bother, as if it was a piece of piss:

I couldn't believe there was no one present to witness my impressive skills, so I took the picture - to be honest I feel I deserve a gold medal or at least a round of applause.

Today I went to art at the hospital and took pictures through the steamed up windows on the bus:

Normally I'd walk all the three miles home, but today it started raining hard when I was well on my way - too far off a bus route to do anything other than plod on, get drenched, and get on a bus when I came back to the main road. On the bus, a bloke moved up to make room for me on his seat, but I went past him to grab the window seat behind as it was steamy, the light had changed and I wanted to take more pics:

Well, bloody hell, off he started in a loud Glaswegian voice, about what a fine thing it is that no one wants to sit next to a wee gay Scotsman, do we all think we're better than him, blah blah blah, on and on - yes, he was pissed, but I recognised him as someone I'd seen quite often wrapped in a manky thin sleeping bag in a shop doorway, so after he'd moaned on a bit, I put my head forward between the seats and told him about sitting by the window to take pictures, showing him the one I'd just taken (above). Well, he bloody loved that, got right into it:

and then we fell straight into an intense, honest conversation - he'd left his last boyfriend after seven years because he'd been diagnosed with MS and put on steroids which made him violent - I know, weird coincidence, made me jump a bit - but that was a nice little interlude, sitting on a crowded, steamy bus, dripping wet through to my skin, taking photos and bonding with a stranger for ten minutes.

I am grateful for: a blog to blurt in; a roof over my head; a warm bed; an overdraft facility; being a mother


1:22 a.m. - 13.01.15


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