What a palaver!
Well l think it is safe to say that neither Suze nor l really wanted to go today, we didn’t quite know what to expect nor what we were walking into. Scrappy thought she was going on her first adventure of the year and looked definitively relieved when she realised that we weren’t going to the vets and her anals were once again safe from alien probing, and then simply relaxed into the journey of unknown destination!
Getting going this morning was perhaps the hardest thing, as Suze herself would tell you. When it’s just her, she can get ready whilst the two sleepyheads are still slumbering, however things get decidedly more complicated when you starting adding numbers to a single unit of one.
More so when one is a furchild! Obviously that’s Scrappy and not me, just in case some of you were wondering if l was releasing some kind of strange pet name Suze and l share!
Furchild is an entire operation all by itself. First we have to ensure that she is awake and ready to rumble, then we have to get the car ready for her journey. So her travelling cargo box, well it’s not a box, Scrappy has the entire back seat and her ‘cargo box’ is basically an enormous zipped in car seat cover. So that has to be strapped in, then her travel rucksack made ready, she has to be walked, and allowed to ‘sniff the day’, poop and pee her routine out before she even considers herself ready for travel!
Once her cargo cover is in, her rucksack packed making double sure we have treats, water and food there, next to her towels and her bed, she may then decide that she is ready to allow us both, buggered arm or not to lift the squirming squiggling and wiggling lump into the back seat of the car! Then we have to listen to her huffing and puffing whilst we mere humans get ourselves ready for the journey.
Which was also a bit of a heave ho this morning, due to the stresses starting in and the sudden realisation that the two day event we had planned had thankfully shrunk down to a single day. But then to discover we were effectively only travelling up to Surrey from Kent to box roughly 300 books tops! My Sister at a mere 40 minutes away could easily have done that, but wanted US as in Brother and Sister to do it together. Which l thought was some canny plan, but the reality is l think she genuinely wanted to do that.
So all in all, we got there at around 11.30am and left about 4.30pm, getting home about 7pm. Job done, now we are just going to let a house clearance company come in and do the rest. Cooooolio!
I did notice, despite not actually doing a great deal due to Suze’s unwavering gaze and hot Mothering looks of ‘I am watching you buster!!’, that my neck, shoulder and arm are in a much worsened state than l thought they were. I get pain writing more than 2500 words these days, but whilst l can hoover the house, and do a certain amount of simple mundane tasks, l don’t stretch my arm out too much. But even just the boxing of 300 books shared between three people with me doing perhaps 20% of the workload, that just by lifting a few books and moving them, that l was in severe pain even with 3700mg in my heavily medicated body – and that was from just doing the mimimum amount of what l considered light work!
That was kind of disturbing to realise just how much further the shoulder’s deterioration had travelled since l was last at my Father’s house at the end of the last year.
Thank goodness for the surgeon’s appointment on Monday coming, and l do hope that there is going to be something pretty serious in the remedy department and l don’t have to wait for too long, because l am at my own concession, very concerned at just how physically sick l felt with the pain.
Here l am hours later from returning home and l am absolutely 199% knackered and from the middle of my neck down to the middle of my spine and shooting across to the top of my shoulder and then down to my fingertips, l feel like l have hot razor blades tickling me for a bit of fetsih fun! However it’s far from pleasurable.
Luckily we have choose and book in this neck of the woods, which means, that once the surgeon tells us what is wrong, and awards the go ahead for surgery, we can hunt around our area for availability and dates and clinics which includes France to get the repair work done.
As said l do hope, this goes well this coming Monday, as l think all my reserve enery cells are now completely depleted. I know, l have nothing left to give physically, it’s just not there. With this amount of medication, l shouldn’t be in this much of an agonising pain, so somethings ‘gotta give’ before l do.
As to Jenny, well if you could ignore the ‘oh woe is me, l have lost x amount of £’s per month’ barrage of grumbles and mumbles, then l would say she was quite pleasant. Or maybe l was just too tired to care about her complaints, and concerned that everyone was saying ‘You know that your colour has drained from your face again right?’
I think in truth, l have reached the stage of ‘Fuck it, l don’t care anymore, l just want this palaver finished with now.’ Because of that, l am able to simply say, what will be will be. Jenny is happy, l am beyond caring about the past, and just want the future to be bright and Suze just wants a hassle and stress free life, and Scrappy, well all she just wants what all furballs want at her age, peace, sleep and treats and to be loved and adored! Apparently she informs me she will be pawing up an episode soon.
All in all, that day was l think technically a success.
Thank goodness, we were all needing at least one!
On a side note, l am discovering some strange facts with the reading of My Father’s 1969 diary. the diaries are bringing out fresh memories and not all of them good, but – some real eye openers!!