These days, I always feel tired. Old age, arthritis, par for the course. But when we got back from seeing Maggie on Wednesday afternoon - where we got our usual warm welcome - I felt terminally tired. I had to make soup for supper. We have a soup machine. I had bought a packet of ready chopped sweet potato and pumpkin, so all I had to do was to chop one potato, one carrot, one onion, a bit of celery, herbs, add water and stock cube and turn on. On, and put the garlic bread from the freezer into the oven. Next to nothing. But it felt like climbing Mount Everest.
Then they had a Patients/Doctors meeting at our local surgery that evening to discuss all the things that are going on - thousands of new patients, difficult in recruiting doctors etc. It was comforting to know what they were doing - and be reminded what nice, if tired, doctors we have.
I wish we could have a government that would regard the NHS as a jewel in its crown.
But during the meeting I began to feel this worrying pain in my left leg - upper. Please God this is not my hips going... the thought of having to be back in hospital, in the horrors of the wards...
Anyway, this was the beginning of what has to be my worst flare up so far. Neither the Captain nor me got much sleep that night. At one point I did pray to Jehovah for some relief - and I did then manage about an hours sleep, which was a lifesaver. And yesterday was a nightmare of pain. My leg is still very painful this morning, but nothing like it was. I was able to get myself to the computer, albeit on my trusty zimmer, to try catch up.
I couldn't even get myself to the loo yesterday. Captain B was wonderful. A tower of strength. And at least we were able to sleep through tonight.
He is still finding exciting moths on our balcony every night. They really are exquisite. I am beginning to wonder if next years calendar should be a Moth one, though it would have to include a Swallowtail butterfly as he got such great photos on his little holiday in Norfolk with Dan.
And, re Maggie and our regular visits. When we were at Dan and Libby's party on Saturday we got talking to a lovely young physio called Heather. She works with Aspergers and Autistic patients, so we started to talk about the amazing human brain, and I was telling her about Maggie and how she would be completely blank as to who people she had known for ages were, until you showed her their name in her address book. Then she knew. So the info is still there - its how to find the path to it. Though sadly I think the paths are closing all the time.
But she doesn't need an address book for us now. She does know us and can usually get our names without prompting. And she knows if we ever miss a Wednesday! Which we try not to do. But sometime the Nursing Home itself is closed to visits as they have an infection going round,
Anyway Heather confirmed how important routine is - that we always go on a Wednesday. And she said that even though Maggie might not remember we had been for long, the physiological effects of our visit can and do linger on. Apparently there is a big rise in endorphins during and after a visit.
All Maggie can really say now is that she loves us, and she loves us to come. Truly. She always adds the "truly" with such feeling, So we too get a boost every time we see her. Who doesn't want to be loved and wanted?