Tales From The Crypt - Sunday 27th March 2022

A leisurely start to Sunday, though we're noticing the loss of the hour due to the onset of British Summer Time.  Not only that but I think I must have eaten (or more likely drunk: the so-called coconut flat white that I bought yesterday didn't taste of coconut) something with lactose in it as my digestion is very dodgy.

There's a bit of organising and planning to do after breakfast: Q's due to be interviewed by the BBC at work tomorrow so she needs to sort her clothes; both of us have Bullet Journals to set up for the week/month ahead; and there's also holiday planning...

It took me a while to recognise the symptoms of lactose-intolerance as I have not experienced it for a long time. At it's worst it comes in two stages: the first symptom when it's in your stomach; then if you don't address that with Lactase (which I do, but probably a bit late), the second set of symptoms are in later stages of digestion, if I can politely put it that way.  Could be in for a stormy night.

Late morning we have a much-needed chat about life especially as it relates to E.  Friday's carer/WLB presentation at work reminded me of the precarious nature of E's health, in particular with regards to the EDS scale (illustrated below), on which E is somewhere between a 9.0 and 10.0, and realistically nearer the 10.0 than the 9.0. Saying out loud to the assembled team of architects that she was at that point on the scale really brought it home to me (and to Q). We have a pretty heavy discussion and Q makes a really good suggestion that I (and the boys) start talking to E about life now, in the future, and the life we have all enjoyed together, while we still can.

I have been guilty of 'happily' accepting that the way things are now is how they will remain, but of course this is not the case.  No one knows when, so I am going to write some words and start chatting with E on a regular basis about life for the boys and I now, the future, but illuminated with the best of the past. This is going to be tough.

The afternoon and evening are taken up with ironing and MAFSA. I slowly becoming an 'expert' in Australian slang, which will, I'm sure, prove very useful to me. Not sure when, but hey, I'm stoked.

Heading up for an early night and yet more chatter! Cue donkeys without hind legs, and gale force 10.

Grumbling Fur / 'Galacticon' / 'Glynnaestra'

 

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