Did you miss me?

I certainly missed you.

Those of you who sent little reminders and friendly messages : thank you very much indeed. Those of you whose blogs are blind or non-existent and who have a no-reply-email-policy thank you anyway although there is no way I can get back to you. Perhaps you don’t expect me to?

That lingering little virus I mentioned in my last post turned into a full-blown and very nasty chest infection, with lots of symptoms and unpleasant complications. It’s all over now and I am back in the land of the living. And sane. A high temperature plays havoc with your perception. If I hadn’t been so weak I’d have directed a serious rant at author David Nicholls for making the male protagonist of ‘US’ into a wet blanket whose family walks all over him. As it was I spent one whole night fuming and that even before I’d finished the book.  In the clear light of day - several days and a reduction in temperature later - I saw that my rage had been a tad misdirected.

Apparently, it is a well known fact that carers succumb to illness the moment the cared-for recovers and that is exactly what happened to me. Good old NHS. I was a costly and labour-intensive patient for more than three weeks and all tests and treatments came free. I wasn’t even charged for plentiful sympathy from all health practitioners involved!

A funny thing happened. One of the complications was that I became intolerant of the prescribed brand of antibiotics. I turned spotty and red all over. You could have used me as a beacon in the red-light district! Guaranteed to brighten the gloomiest dive!

Beloved is lots better. Had he not recovered as well as he has after his dreadful spring and summer he’d have had to go into respite care. None of our many (six) assorted children offered any assistance at all; I am not really surprised, they all live a great distance away and lead busy professional lives. The solution for us was to pay for help; luckily, finances allow us to do that and we shall keep it that way. It’s so much easier to tell an employee what you want them to do than to ask family for favours.

The only creature in the house who benefitted from the situation was Millie. Almost daily kind friends and neighbours took her for hour long walks; she enjoyed gorgeous autumn weather while I could only gaze longingly out of the window at splendid hazy mornings and sunny afternoons. The picture above was taken on one such morning, when there were still leaves on the trees and the hillside opposite was draped in floating mists.

2015. I want it hung, drawn and quartered and any remains burnt on a funeral pyre and scattered to the four winds. When I mentioned that I can’t wait to be shot of it somebody said “Don’t, you’re wishing your life away.” Absolutely true. But there have been days since May when I would gladly have swapped non-existence for the frightening and miserable times we endured.