It’s been a scary few days. Him Underfoot collapsed on me on Saturday, in a world of unexplained pain. I carted him off to A&E, not always pleasant on a Saturday night in December, where the staff were wonderful, thorough and reassuring. Thankfully he is ok – he’s rather entertaining when stoned on morphine -but when the person that holds your heart becomes so fragile it rips something right out of you. I love the goon. He’s mine. I should be able to help, gods, I felt so useless even down to the fact I can’t drive and finding a taxi on a party night isn’t fun. I was cursing my inability to drive the 3 miles to the hospital. I was also developing a pretty nasty chest infection and I don’t think being out until the small hours helped much, because I’m now having my worst asthma episode for 20 years. I can barely walk from one room to the next and am currently slugging a pailful of steroids. I woke on Monday night thinking there were birds singing in the clematis only to realise that it’s December, it was 2am and that it was actually my chest whistling away.
We are both slowly on the mend but I’ve had to cancel 4 events – one of which was a day of charitable work for the Action Foundation I should have been at right now and I feel terrible for letting them down. They were lovely, as they always are, and I hope I can make it up to them in the New Year. I should make their celebratory Christmas lunch next week though, so fingers crossed.
All this has kind of led to any Christmas celebrations or prep being put on hold. I literally haven’t had the energy to even write cards. I’m a bit ambivalent about it all this year, though I am looking forward to being with all my family for a couple of days. It’s a cliche, but time really does feel like sand slipping through my fingers.
I hope my next update will be more cheery and seasonal. I promise seasonal cheer! For now I’m going back to wallowing through multiple episodes of Tivo’d dodgy sci-fi (Dominion, I’m thinking of you, Michael is one hot archangel…!).