We had a rather boring weekend; on Saturday we mostly did jobs around the caravan. Having been out and about for most of the week, I needed to catch up with the washing, paperwork and cleaning. Whilst I was at it, I also packed a few cases. Mid morning we went to collect mail from The Manor and got some supplies from the farm shop for lunch. Lunch was pie and mash and left over veggies, not very exciting but it filled a hole. Phil phoned the hospital after lunch because there was some talk about Aunt Daphne being moved to a converlasant home. He was lucky and the ward nurse actually took the phone to Daphne’s bed so he was able to have a chat with her. She said she would still be at the James Pagent Hospital for the time being and so Phil arranged that we would go and visit her on Sunday. I printed off the directions and late afternoon we popped over to Waitrose at Rushden to fill up with fuel and also take some goodies to take into the hospital.
Having printed off directions from the AA website, we knew it was a long journey so we were up and about fairly early on Sunday morning. We eventually left the van at 8.30am and it took us almost 3 hours to get down to Norfolk. The visiting hours started at half eleven, just time for us to have a wee, wash our hands and find Ward 7. Daphne was dressed in hospital nightgowns but was up and sitting in a chair beside her bed. She seemed much the same as ever, especially when we gave her the bag of goodies specially chosen for her in Waitrose which she didn’t seem especially pleased with. I wish we’d never bothered. Daphne can hardly walk, she needs an operation on her leg and a new hip but the hospital are reluctant to operate. From what I understand, this is because not just because of her age, but also because she has an ongoing kidney problem and they discovered she had a water infection when she was first admitted. The reason Daphne is being kept in, is because, quite simply, she can’t look after herself at home. Of course, Daphne wants to keep her home but there is no way she can return without care at home. And care at home or a home help comes with a cost. It’s all very sad and it’s a dilemma that we are going to have with Phil’s mum and dad very soon.
Anyway, we stayed with Daphne for 3 hours, only leaving her while she ate her lunch and we went down to the café for a sausage roll and a much needed cup of tea. Daphne did a fair amount of moaning whilst we were there; she moaned about the other ladies on her ward, she moaned about the staff, she moaned about the food, she moaned about the telly, you name it and she moaned. I suppose I can’t blame her, she’s probably a little scared for her future and she must be bored ridged. I was very surprised that when we went to leave, she said how much she’d enjoyed our visit. Our visit was long overdue and my conscience is a little easier now they we have done the journey but with Phil’s mum and dads house move coming up, god only knows when we will be able to revisit.
Needless to say, the drive home was horrible, long and dreary and not made any nicer when the rain started and it got dark. Phil was seriously fired up by the time we drove through the barrier at Overstone. He wanted to go for a pint at the clubhouse, I was a little reluctant but I figured he deserved a pint or two after nearly 6 hours driving. We drove straight to the clubhouse and I have to say, when I read that it was the last night that the restaurant was open, I was glad we did. It gave us a chance to say Happy New Year and wish happy holidays to Paul and Jo. They leave for Goa on Sunday and we wanted to get a contact number from them just in case we get out to Goa in February. It’s looking unlikely, what with Aunt Daphne and Phil’s mum and dad but it’s not impossible. It’s not Mission Impossible, excuse the pun. We had a few drinks and it was nice to be able to say our goodbyes.
In my list of things to do, I had planned to pack more stuff last night and drive over to Sue’s early this morning but it didn’t happen. We got back to the van after the club-house and pretty much we just went to bed and this morning I was late up. It was gone half eight by the time I left Overstone and almost nine thirty by the time I got to Sue’s. Of course, Sue was already showered and dressed and looking fresh as a daisy; she kindly made me tea and toast, I chucked bags in her wardrobe and then went to the health club for a quick run. I just made it in time to pick up HH from the OU and we went to McDonalds for some junk food and a catch-up.
I felt quite down in the dumps yesterday and the January blues are hitting me more than ever this year and I’m not sure quite why. The frail old folks are making me sad, mostly bar the practical stuff, I feel helpless because I can’t do anything to help their failing health and their mobility. God knows I wish I could. And also I feel selfish ‘cas there is a little part of me that is resentful. I can write truthfully, because I know that neither Bett & George nor Daphne, follow my blog. But I am resentful because it’s because they are old and ill and me and Phil can’t fly off on holiday. Well, I’ve said it now, and now I know you know that I am not a very nice person. I wish I could think of a solution that would give them all a good quality of life, and at the same time, allow me and Phil to follow our dreams. Right now I can’t think of anything other than to stick around and pay for hired help. I am also depressed because I’m not doing well keeping my NY’s resolutions; in fact I’m failing seriously bad in this department. But I’ve given myself a strict talking to today and have decided that in reality, my good resolve is not really going to start until next week. This week, we have a lot on our plate as we have to move out of the caravan on Friday. It’s not a big deal and perhaps the drama queen in me, is making it more of a big deal in my head than it is in reality.
And there we have just another example of the girl with the glass half empty. Another failed NY resolution (that was meant to be number ?); I keep trying to suppress the glass empty girl, I try to keep her down; I try my utmost to sit on her head and squash her with all my might but she’s not having it. It doesn’t make sense at the end of the day. What do I have to moan about? My life is good right? I have a kind husband, I have money in the bank, zero limits on the credit cards, I now we own a caravan outright and together me and Phil have 8 flats. I have my health (okay, let’s leave the liver out of this), I am a size 8, pre Christmas that was a size 6 but that’s just a number. It’s not important. So why do I feel half empty? Is it just the January blues, and if not, why I do I feel so unhappy with my lot. I am hoping it’s just the time of year and not just me. The trouble is, a bottle of red doesn’t make it any better, and the worst thing is, that this is no longer allowed. Right now, right at this moment in time, I am not in a good place and I’m not sure why. Buck up girl, buck up Claire. I need to give myself another good talking to and very soon. Bring on the spring or a new project, I need to keep busy. Or actually, maybe what I really need is to feel half full. Bullshit folks, what me and my boy really needs, is a holiday. Somewhat hot and somewhere preferably far away....
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