The good news is that Mr OCD is finally feeling better…

The good news is that as I got ill about a week after he did, I only have a week left of feeling rotten.

The good news is that I progressed from blackberry jam on toast for lunch to broccoli and chicken for supper.  I am no longer a bear.

The good news is that I only had to get out of bed to make said meals… and the rest of the day I spent in bed.

The good news is that I have nearly finished the box set of Damages (series 4 is not as good as 1, 2 and 3).

The good news is that my eyes are less puffy today… but still itchy.

The good news is that I found one last clean packet of tissues in my dressing gown, so I can stop reusing old ones! (eugh! I know!)

The good news is that I have wonderful friends and family who have rallied round to allow me to have this full day of rest.

The good news is that my big boy son is an angel and went to bed and to sleep the minute I asked him to go to bed.

The good news is that my little boy son only acted like little devil because he has an angel heart and only refused to sleep in his bed, because he wanted to sleep with me because I was poorly…

The good news is that the TV, radio, online news channels have ‘off’ buttons and you don’t have to listen to the bad news that pollutes the press these days….

The good news is that there are good people out there doing good things, simple good things… I loved seeing the facebook posts today of the reverse advent, people putting one thing in a box a day to give out at Christmas, rather than eating a chocolate a day.

The good news is that good news and thinking about good news leads to more good news!

The good news is that it is time for bed and tomorrow will be a new fantastic day! And it is Christmas Activity day at school and that is something worthy of a good night sleep!

 

 

I’ve moved on from marmalade. Today was all about the honey sandwich. Paddington to Pooh. Who is next I wonder?!

 

I clock watched til 3am last night…. Clock watched in between coughing fits, sneezes, sneezes on top of sneezes, a blocked nose that at the same time doesn’t stop streaming. This has to be the virus from hell. The virus from nightmares.

 

As I lay in my frustrating insomnia mode, I day dreamed.

 

I day dreamed that my Mum walked into my room…

 

She brought me a hot honey and lemon, sat on my bed and stroked my head, rubbed vicks on my chest and said… ‘Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got this. I’ve got your back. I will look after you. I will look after the boys. You rest.   I’ve got this.’

 

I daydreamed that my Dad was sat downstairs… ready to be taxi driver, ferrying the boys back and forth to school, clubs, playing games with them and watching James Bond.

 

I daydreamed of my Mum’s cooking. I daydreamed of her perfect, salty eggibo sandwiches on wholewheat bread.. I daydreamed of her perfectly whipped mashed potato with pepper and nutmeg with creamy, mustard and mushroom sauce….

 

I daydreamed of letting go of my responsibilities because I knew someone else had my back.

 

I know that my Mum would drop everything to help me out and make me feel better.

 

I know that, because I know that I would do that for my boys. If they are ill, they are no 1 priority to get better.

 

I know that my Mum would hold me close and cuddle me better regardless of germs, because I know I do that to my boys. I know I will do that for as long as they let me… even if they are 16, 21, 30, 40… older.

 

It was a wonderful daydream seeing my Mum, healthy, vibrant.

 

Waking up at 5am to my reality … the realization I do have responsibilities and regardless of how crap I feel, I will always drag my sorry arse out of bed, regardless of how terrible I look and make sure that they get safely to where they are meant to be, have eaten well, brushed their teeth, got clean clothes, done their homework, had cuddles and kisses…

 

19.33. The boys are asleep. I am in bed. I am looking forward to my daydream tonight.

 

Marmalade.

It is all I want to eat at the moment…. I crave it on toast… hot buttery toast. Multiple rounds of it.

It takes moments to make – maybe about 2 minutes…

Tastes devine..

 

And I actually just read up on ‘the benefits of marmalade’:

 

Orange Marmalade uses the flesh and the peel from oranges (and lemons) to make a citrus fruit preserve. While this food is high in sugar, it provides a range of nutritional benefits, supplementing a diet with vitamins and keeping your fat, calorie and sodium intake low. The vitamin C in orange marmalade promotes healthy tendons and ligaments. The vitamin C is also important for repairing tissues in your body as well as collagen.

 

So Aunt Lucy was right. “Marmalade. Just One sandwich contains all the vitamins and minerals a bear needs for a whole day!’

 

Just call me Paddington…..

 

Coping strategies.

 

Coping strategies for the weekday single Mum of 2 when feeling under the weather, not quite 100%.

 

Coping strategy no1: Go to bed early, pile the pillows up high to help prevent the coughing, box of tissues in reach, cough mixture opened to prevent midnight battles and spillage.

 

Coping strategy no2: Be prepared for Willy and the unsettled night that always follows Big Daddy Morts’ departure to London. Calpol at the ready for whatever ache or pain his upset manifests as… (controversial I know given today’s announcements…. )

 

Coping strategy no3: Multiple alarms set. One in the bathroom so I have to get up and turn it off.

 

Coping strategy no4: Comfy clothes laid out ready to slip into quickly.

 

Coping strategy no5: Lay the table the night before with cereal bowls, spoons, cereal and homework to be done before we leave for school.

 

Coping strategy no6: Prepare protein shake with all dry ingredients ready to blitz as I run out the door, my breakfast on the go!

 

Coping strategy no7: Take out frozen pre-prepared supper for the boys’ tea – chilli or bolognaise?

 

Coping strategy no8: Post drop offs, get back into bed, turn off the lights, TV, phone, close the curtains and recover as much sleep as possible lost through tending to Willy’s earache, tooth ache, and little bedtime partner wriggles…

 

Coping strategy no9: Feel no guilt.

 

Coping strategy no10: Set alarm for last possible moment to get up and shower before picking up the boys…

 

Coping strategy no11: Hot shower with Arbonne Detox Seasource products to help clear my nose and replenish my body with the all the minerals my body is losing to a dehydrating cold.

 

Coping strategy no12: Prepare snacks for the boys to have at pick up – hunger prevent far better than post hunger pang cure!

 

Coping strategy no13: Double Fizz stick… hydrating and serious energy kick to get me through pick ups, tea time, bath time and bedtime!

 

Coping strategy no14: Boys to choose books to read during teatime to distract them and me from keeping asking them to ‘eat up’…

 

Coping strategy no15: 30 minutes of our favourite film with our fruit bowls… giggles over Paddington, cuddle time….

 

Coping strategy no16: Early to bed…

 

Coping strategy no 17: Repeat…. Until 100% again.

 

Home alone.

 

Me, Strictly Results, Antiques Roadshow and a bag of minstrels all to myself.

 

The big man has left for London a night earlier than usual. It’s always a tough call – to miss an evening cuddling on the sofa and have good long night sleep or enjoy cuddles but a seriously early morning rise….

 

It was the right choice to go tonight… we all need a good night sleep.

 

So he has gone… Sunday supper in his Tupperware…

 

Interesting the career choices we all make.

 

Choices in our household that are never taken lightly, that are discussed at length.

 

Choices and decisions that we live with and we live through.

 

Choices.

 

And we all have the chance to change our mind…. And make a different choice.

 

I remember a good friend of mine saying to me that there is no failure in having the courage to say when something no longer works for you, or your family. That was when I made the choice to leave employment, to become self employed and put my family first.

 

Choices.

 

To be happy or sad, abundant or mean, loving or disapproving, joyful or tearful…

 

Each choice will have a consequential result. We can either live with them or choose to change and make a different choice.

 

The choice to have a cup of green tea…. Or a bag of minstrels.

 

Tonight feels like a bag of minstrels type of night…. And blow the consequences!

 

8.45pm

Pyjamas and slippers.

Party animals on a break.

Hot rocks and bottles of Chianti.

Chips and salad.

Profiteroles and cream.

Boys and Lego.

Granny and Grandpa.

Fargo and sofa.

Night nurse and Bed.

X’s and Z’s.

 

Night night all…

 

It just popped up on my Facebook timeline that I became friends with my mum 8 years ago… Facebook friends that is…

 

I took it as a sign to open that beautiful box in my mind that contains my Mumbo.

 

Tears prick my eyes.

 

Yesterday, I knew was going to be a shock.

 

I didn’t prepare myself for how much of a shock. I could just about cope in the moment. Just…

 

My initial shock at seeing Mum, I hid over her shoulder as I caught the sobs in my throat and let the tears prick my eyes so she couldn’t see… and held her a little longer. Until I could let go and force a smile across my face and say how delighted I was to see her.

 

I had to blink away tears and turn rapidly away after one embrace… a lingering embrace that spoke more words than she could speak… while she traced patterns on my back… just as she did when I was little.

 

I had to hold my sister’s hand and squeeze it tight… when we discussed with the social worker, nurse and NHS representative about Mum’s needs… particularly when we discussed her incontinence, her needs for protection and care to stop sores…   My Mumbo.

Nappies and sudocream.

I can’t bear it.

 

I had prepared myself for some level of deterioration since I last saw her 6 weeks ago… but the reality was far more breath taking.

 

She had shrunk. Diminished is probably a better word…

 

She had diminished in so many ways…

 

Physically diminished…

Smaller, frailer, fragile, pale.

Her face hollow.

Her hair grey with grease.

Hunched.

Shuffling.

 

Emotionally diminished.

Fleeting recognition that was there one instant and gone for so many more…

Beautiful clear grey eyes, now milky blue, unable to focus.

Nothing there.

Tired.

Drugged up to the eyeballs.

Literally.

 

Seeing her framed through her bedroom door, she came through from the darkness into the light.

The initial shock I felt like a sudden bolt – she looked like her Mum, My Grandma just before she passed away.

 

She too had Alzheimer’s.

Vacant.

Gaunt.

 

The walking dead.

 

I write those 3 words… they are shocking. But it is her reality.

 

There is no quality of life left for my Mum.

 

My mum who loved quality, craved quality. Would only eat, taste, use the best… She grew up in Switzerland and therefore had the super high standards of the Swiss.

 

I know she would hate her reality. I hate it.

 

Immediately from leaving the hospital, I put my fragile Mumbo back in her beautiful bejeweled box… took a deep breath and walked away. I wasn’t ready to face it. Didn’t want to share my feelings with James or Pip…. Dosed myself up on Chablis and cough mixture for a fitful night sleep.

 

Writing this has released the memory… facing in to the experience that was yesterday as being horrible.

 

Then scrolling through my Mum’s facebook page has helped drown out the sad images of yesterday, with happier times…

Mum with her grandchildren, playing, cuddling, smiling..

Mum at Bambi’s wedding day looking so glamorous and confident…

Mum at her 70^th, just before Alzheimer’s really dug its claws in and took her from us…

 

As I sit in this lovely boutique coffee house just off bond street, drinking the most amazing coffee and fresh juices…

 

I am glad my friend cancelled on me.

I am glad I got to take the time to write, replay the memory… and put it away.

I am glad I opened the box again today.

I am glad that Facebook reminded me of the happier memories, happier times…

I am glad that it is nearly time to catch the train home, to my boys, my babies…

I am glad that I can hug them and tickle their backs and breathe them in, breathe in their warmth, love, life and energy.

 

So far so good!My visualisations and imagining of how my morning would play out has exceeded expectations…
I am sat with plenty of time in the station waiting room enjoying my F and U cappuccino … I am holding it near my nose as there is a bad smell … Not quite sure where it is emanating from but it is a delightful mix of ammonia, old cigarette ash and general uneasy…. 
Despite a night peppered with disruption – bouts of unstoppable coughing, a wet bed, a nightmare, an ‘I can’t sleep’ and ‘I hurt my elbow’ – and an early wakening by drawers slamming from Tom’s room – I don’t feel too bad. 
I had imagined a smooth morning with showers and breakfasts without fuss and in the car at 7.15. It was reality.
I had imagined a smooth journey into school, with light traffic, easy to park, and teachers at school to allow me to nip off before the allotted 8am start. It was reality.
I imagined a car park full of spaces and a close walk to the station. It was reality.
I imagined my hot coffee and delicious seed bar as a treat from F and U. It was a reality… Although not the seed bar as I can’t swallow … Shame.
I imagined my train pulling in on time, a window seat and a quiet carriage. It was a reality.. (In truth, I think the train was 30 secs delayed but I will let east coast off!)
So I am on the train and I am confident that the rest of the trip will go smoothly…. 
Thinking of Mum.. She is safely in her jewelled box… For the time being. I will deal with the situation in the moment…. 
*******

That was this morning…
Right now I am by the fire and enjoying the company of the big man and my best friend, my sister in law. I have had my make up done by my gorgeous niece and bathed my nephew… It was the medicine I needed after seeing mum.
I also have a large bottle of wine to go with my large bottle of cough mixture… I am hoping the concoction will know me out….