Tuesdays are fast becoming FL update days!
I wish I could tell you he is feeling much better and that the effects of the Velcade are wearing off and he is on the golf course every day potting birdies (or whatever it is he does!)
Actually, he is a bit of a mess. Sorry FL, your secret is out! After last week’s post, he did make an effort to draw up a “To Do” list, to give himself some focus. I took a photo of the list for your viewing pleasure, but sadly it was blurred. It began something like this: “(1) Dig up earth from molehills; (2) Take molehill earth to broken beehives; (3) Dig holes by beehives and fill with molehill earth; (4) Soak trees; (5) Plant trees.” Somewhere in there was also an instruction to “Make deer-proof fence round beehives”. Even to an untrained eye, there is an awful lot of physical labour in that list of tasks. He had broken it up into manageable chunks, but at this rate (a week to summon the energy to write the “to do” list) the trees (our anniversary orchard) will have wizened and died in the Bothy where they were put “for a few days” at New Year.
He is very very tired. Oh, so weary. I cut his hair and beard at the weekend in an attempt to boost his self-esteem and stop him being tracked by Security in the supermarket for looking like a vagrant. He now looks cleaner but thinner. Much thinner. The bushy beard and shaggy hair were hiding a few months’ worth of weight loss. He is stooped and has a staggering, shambling walk. He said that yesterday it was a real effort to get back into the car after he had bought his newspaper – it was too low down to negotiate without fear of falling. He got back from town at noon and went straight to bed, where he stayed until I woke him at dinnertime (8pm).
He is in constant pain. At least he admits it now! But he still forgets to take the paracetamol. Every bone aches and he has a cramping pain in his abdomen. He is going to the GP today to request an ultrasound, as instructed by the hospital doctor two weeks ago. He also complains about failing eyesight. He has never had an eye-test in his life, but I have instructed him to make an appointment with an optician TODAY! His hearing loss continues to be an issue for the whole family, but he has done nothing about it.
I can hear you asking – yes, but what have YOU done about it Roo? You, his carer? And I have to admit that I have done nothing much about anything. I crawl into bed beside him when I get home from work and I hug him and tell him my stories about the day. Then I leave him to sleep while I get on with the household chores - cooking, dog-walking, cleaning, washing. We sometimes have high-volume exchanges with the kids over dinner, and then all too soon he is nodding off in his chair again and I am back out with the dog. We have mini-conversations all night long, but by then I am half-asleep. Then suddenly it’s morning again and I have to go to work and leave him to his lists.
He used to call me “the organisation woman” because I ran the family’s life with military precision. Now, suddenly, I seem to have let it all slip. I failed to nag my son to get his University applications in order, with the result that he may have lost out on his back-up-plan. I am complicit with the children’s lack of interest in their homework – beyond asking them if they have done it, I let them get on with it… or not. I leave FL to organise his own GP appointment, despite the notable disaster of his last attempt to get painkillers. I even suggest he sets up an optical appointment, knowing he thinks all opticians are charlatans, out to make money from poor fools who accept what they say – he believes glasses should be bought off the shelf for £2 at the pharmacy. Clearly, I am not facing up to my responsibilities. Maybe it’s ME who is depressed.