Thursday 10 November 2016


 It is now five weeks since Liz had an operation and I am still working on half, well, maybe, two thirds cylanders. One of the conundra is how much is legitimate debility and how much Anno Domini. (Oops, I am reliably reminded that one doesn't say that anymore: it is BCE, I believe:  Before the Christian Era, as I think I have pointed out before. There must be those who might be offended by the use of that time-honoured way of expressing the passage of time, but in view of what may happen to the Western world as a result of events in the USA it pays to be extra careful not to give offence to anyone anywhere.

Reconciling current experience with long-term expectations is proving quite a challenge.  The saga of the Council-sponsored carers continues. Liz has to reconcile  herself to a complete stranger poking her head around the door and saying "Hi Liz".  The demand on my conscience and charity is beginning to outgrow the supply. One lady  came up four times from the kitchen to ask such basic questions I began to wonder whether this was some kind of test of the degree to which my mind had given up the ghost.  One couldn't use the microwave oven, One couldn't use the oven oven. One - the one who couldn't use the microwave but hadn't time to wait for the oven to heat - forgot the frozen peas which had been the subject of Liz's descent  in to the kitchen, herself, to point out freezer and the peas therein, along with a saucepan very used to holding boiling water and some vegeatble or other. At one moment, the degree of exasperation was such that I actually asked one carer what she, herself, ate.   You don't need to know.  On an occasion when I resorted to Fish Fingers  (a child's form of goujon in case you are not familiar with them.  They are about three inches long and one inch wide, usually cod covered with bread crumbs).  Looking at the plate in front of me, I picked one up and let it fall back on to the plate. Crash, Bang, a mini-brick: I might just as well have thrown a pebble on to thin ice.  Oh Dear!  This is sounding so ungrateful.  I am not.  It is just that the 'care package' is such a good idea in principal. However, it is a huge waste of resources because  it fails in the execution - something I would gladly have performed, with a kitchen knife, if someone close to me had not turned up and taken over the kitchen in what a little person of my acquaintance once called "The knickers of time."  Bore da

Post Script.  Liz is desolate to have too little strength to attend the annual Mumsnet Blogfest. Enjoy and profit by it: I always do

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Who was it that said "Divorce: never. Murder: often" I think that would apply to your care-package situATION, DON'T YOU