I don’t quite understand why, but these days it seems to take a protracted amount of time for things to sink in. Hence why at 7pm this evening, the feelings of sadness and anger struck. Now, I know that tomorrow I will be fine and dandy again, will pick myself up and start all over again and I know that there are others out there who deal with situations every day which make mine look like child’s play. I know that but on nights like these, somehow it doesn’t seem to make the slightest bit of difference.
Maybe it’s that this is the second medical person to tell me in the last 3 months that, at least for the time being, at least until they know more and can create a drug to help, this is it. The pain is here to stay. Mr RR, God bless his soul, is so insistently positive, pointing out the progress that I’ve made and how he believes that I’ll be pain free someday soon, yet I can’t seem to bring myself to believe him. Maybe that’s the flaw, the truth of why I won’t get better. I don’t believe that I can.
Maybe it’s that today I had to book a wheelchair for the first time in order to attend an event where we’d been offered last minute tickets. It’s just another tick off the “things I didn’t expect to have to do before I was 70” list. I know I sound bitter, know I should be trying to focus on the positive but it’s just too damned hard right now. So, I shall go in search of cake to put the world to rights. More lemon drizzle anyone?