Deteriorating

Not me.

Well maybe me?

Ok. Probably me!

Not what I had in mind though. It's been a hard summer for everyone, having gone through national lockdown, then the complex re-opening of the country, and now the dreaded "second-wave". Work has been grey, with a few black and white spots along the way and the garden hasn't seen so much care for years........well there was nothing else we were allowed to do. Couldn't travel, shop, visit family, go to the pub.......just dig the garden. 

Mum has suffered more than most over the summer, and more recently. Her memory is shot and her living skills are going fast. Not being allowed out must be tough, and not at all how she had planned her old age. No Jim to tend to her every whim, and long days (and its only October). So many reflections of Alex as he went into his final months and weeks. Has she eaten? Has she washed? Has there really been no-one over the door all day? Does she know how to work the oven? What day is it? Is it lunchtime? Who's feeding me today? Can I have more sweeties? Can I have more chocolate?

It's hard to spend the half hour every lunchtime with her and not leave in a bad mood. But, on balance, not as hard as it was 3 months ago. A measure of her deterioration is how much she argues and disagrees as opposed to the slight mellowing as she struggles to remember what to argue about. Sadly, the hoarding hasn't improved. The empty paper bag, the wrapper from the butteries, the Lurpak, the packets of biscuits, the junk mail, the used inco pads. There but for the grace of God.

Lost a pal this week, aged 70. Mike. Not good. Actually, ...........

Stu gave one of his kidneys to his brother in law last month. COVID said I couldn't even give him a hug. I hate COVID-19. 

I probably need to document the slide. Might do it.

going to bed