Gloom with light

Next week I'll get the results of the most recent blood tests and gastroscopy (which I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy).
I've been quite low on the happiness index.
Researching possible causes for my health is dangerous, not to mention pretty damn stupid.
Pain and circulation that jumps on and off in my hands and feet.
Tiredness to the level of steeling myself when the kids must get dried off after a shower.

And then one of my students fell off a first floor balcony, landed on his head and died this week.
A life not lived out in the full sense: no old age, no quiet passing after a long and contented life.
He has the same first name as Son#2.

Son#1 is visiting with the in-laws and is missed terribly here at home.
Sons#2 and #3 dress up in superhero suits, hide in the kitchen with lots of noise and strategy talks and then ask me to come and find them.
Where does one hide in a kitchen?
They kiss me often, and that is precious.

When I'm not feeling utterly sorry for myself, I micromanage my moments of living.
There is still a life to experience, regardless of what I hear next week, regardless of pain and discomfort 
My existence hasn't been snuffed out like my 22  year-old student's has.
I'm still alive.
I still have hope.


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In their inebriated state

I have finally figured it out.
You have to deal with kids in the same way as you would deal with angry drunks.
Placate, placate, placate.

Their antics start, typically, between 1 and 4 a.m.
We don't sleep after that.
At least, I don't.
There is a strange and unsettling energy in the house.

Son#1 crawls into bed with me every night. 
We fall asleep, curled.
He burst into tears last night, worried that I'm going to die.
Methinks I should stop mentioning not feeling well or hospital visits or fever in front of him.

Work is a non-issue for now.
The thought of all that stress that will come at me with a clean bill of health, constricts my throat with nausea.  
I cannot have that level of stress and pressure again.
The strangest thing is that all previous experience and knowledge seem to be gone. 
Poof.
Not just work things either.

I love seeing my boys for lunch everyday.
I wish I could keep doing that.
Where is the Exit-sign? 
Will it come?

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Seven

Isn't he wonderful?

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Breathe easy

I'm swallowing a camera today and getting a stomach biopsy.
(Do I hear a round of applause?)
Also, Son#2 is turning a full, enormous 7 tomorrow.
Gifts to buy, treats to prepare.
He and I spent our early evening last night on a giant, smoking nebulizer when his asthma got a bit out of control and I took him to the hospital.
He woke again at 4, and then woke Son#3.
Sigh.
My days start early.

I study small bits in between kids and hospitals and midlifecrisised husband and groceries.
Every little bit helps.


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Mmmmm

I'd love to [be left alone].

I'm tired of fighting people in the house.

Is a bit of harmony too much to ask?

Is it?

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Completely

This is a Tired Day, with two thirds of my offspring having woken at 3 a.m.

There is a dinner to dream up and utter laziness to conquer.

Sigh.

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C'est Le Weekend: Frozen States

The sun is shining outside on this cold, cold day.

It is truly gorgeous, with the left-over hues of autumn still hangin'  around in the birch hedges.

Birds flit-flit around the house and towards the bird sanctuary behind our house.

No religious doctrine can explain it.

It's just Life.

It goes on and on, as it's designed to do.

 

 

Son#3 and I eat bananas and watch children's TV.

#1 and #2 will be home for lunch.

 

Tonight, rugby.

And lots of rest this weekend:  my fever hovers around 39 degrees, and I feel utterly wasted.

 

 

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Aborted Mission

The husband and I went to a Greek restaurant last night.

The interior hasn't changed in nearly 15 years, nor the waiters.
We ate mountains if food, drank Retsina and Ouzo (just a wee bit).
There were movie-plans chucked into the equation, but my fever was spiking at almost 39 degrees and I wasn't up to it.
Early-ish to bed, early to rise.

I'm trying to get through the week by studying a lot.
I have interesting stuff (Neurocognition!) to get my teeth into.
Next week, Son#2 will become a 7-year-old, I will swallow a camera and the doctor will take a biopsy of my stomach.
This is all getting very old.
And I am now tired: pain, fever, tired and forgetful, and not forgetting my job.
Makes me feel a bit on the lower side of the slopes.
Life should be simpler, you know?


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Brutal

I had lunch with 3 colleagues and then cried my heart out on the way home.

I miss my dad terribly.

He would have known what to do with work issues.

Some days it's best to go to bed early and think 'bugger that'.

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