annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Family
- I feel really angry with my sister, who won't visit our brother as he lies dying. She says it's not a spectator sport and she doesn't want a crowd gawping at her in her final moments. I told her that if she goes first I will be at her bedside till the bitter end whether she likes it or not. That's different, she says. No it fucking isn't. Or maybe it's because I'm the oldest. I don't know. I do know that Brother's wife and sons keep hugging me and telling me how glad they are that I'm there. I know she can't do it, and I could be kinder but I don't feel kind, I feel angry.
- I'm stirred up by Stephen Hawking's death - he had what my brother has but managed to live with it for over fifty years, only to die a few days (probably) before. It all just feels like shit.
- Everything else went bad today - ED was meant to go swimming, again. This time the two carers had just finished securing her in her chair in the home's van when a worker from the next door home walked past, heard the mention of swimming and said, "Swimming? Didn't you get the call that the pool's chlorine balance is all wrong again, so they've had to close for the day?" For fuck's sake. We bought ED's swimming costume in November 2013, which was when hydrotherapy was first offered. Today she actually put it on, but the fucking thing has still never been wet. I went and sat in my car and cried. Probably more for Bro than for the swim, but it felt like the last straw. Next week, they say. Again.
- And her own van - suddenly there's a phone call from the mobility vehicles people saying they had a letter back from the DWP saying ED doesn't get that benefit because of how her care is funded - it's all far too complicated to go through here, but again, just fuck off, really, don't mess with my head and my daughter's life like this.
- I am unnaturally calm. Scary - it won't end well. Or maybe I'm just being good in a crisis to make up for being such a liability when it's not a crisis. It's not going to be long.
That's him and my sis and their mum (my stepmum) in about 1963 on holiday in Wales.
I am grateful for: not much today - though to be honest, as I wrote that I remembered that at dancing this morning (which feels like last year), I had a real flash of joy at the fact that I was alive, that I'm not dying (well, not this week, probably). Instead of being crushed by sadness at the loss of people I loved I felt full of zest for being alive myself. It didn't last long, but it was there for a bit.
Night night x
1:06 a.m. - 15.03.18
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