It’s Friday night…how hard can that be? A toss up between a very camp looking pink (coloured bottle) of gin – “Pinkster” which “looked” fabulous with a suitable summer flavouring of raspberry or the apparent Scarborough Fair option (rosemary and thyme) – Gin Mare. I chose the latter – very good choice but now hankering for the unchosen selection. There were (of course) more, but I had quickly narrowed it down to my line of vision. It will have to be another time…meantime I still have my brand of choice at home “Deaths Door” – which works for me….
With my anti-depressants cranked up to maximum, I am starting to feel “better”. Whether I am better enough to speak at funeral next week remains to be seen, but it may be a team effort and that’s OK. People I can trust to lean on and who can lean on me, we will get through…
Meantime I worry…I worry about…(amongst a diaspora of concerns)
- My herceptin treatment. How will I organise this next day treatment whilst I am at a funeral? Should this worry even be on my radar?
- I seem to have several lymph glands erupting (?) – am I imagining it?
- Upcoming scans
- Do I take sleeping tablets and feel/act like a zombie or do I just not sleep and get through lots of reading (or howling) instead?
…and of course these sit beside the rolling cloud “boneless bird” worries of how full the fridge is..(too full…rhubarb and gooseberries have completely taken over); which continent my son is on, now he has his BA “wings”; how content the cats are and the hugest issue of all…how on earth am I ever going to even start downsizing…I can’t get off the starting blocks…? I have stopped even opening cupboards…it makes me cry…