Feelings of discontent

Tuesday November 28, 2006

I am fed up to the back teeth with this being a good patient thing and I shall not be able to bear with it for much longer. I’ll give myself a couple more days and then, ready or not, this auld body is going to be better or I shall want to know the reason why.

Today was the first of Graham’s Christmas ‘events’, requiring him to dress up and take himself off to the holiday camp to attend on a lunch and afternoon dance thing. He’d managed to secure a lift from one of the office ladies so my part today was no more than to drive him over to Cannington for eight-thirty, perhaps ten minutes away, drop him off to pick up his lift, and then to repeat the exercise in reverse at five-thirty. Quite the little commuter family we were for once.

“What will you do with yourself?” Graham asked as we parted company this morning.

“Call in at the supermarket for some nice nosh and then get myself back home and spend the day sleeping. Again.”

“Don’t say it like that. I know it’s boring for you but you’re doing so well and it’d be a shame to spoil it now.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll see the course of treatment through. I make no guarantees after that, though. I’m getting restless.”

“Well, that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

It wasn’t a bad day, exactly. Just quiet, and rather boring. The only excitement was when the phone rang and a bright young woman asked me if this was the kebab shop. I had a chuckle over that. Before I turned over to go back to sleep, that is.

And then it was time to go pick up our working man once more.

So, the beginning and end of the day were fine. It was the middle of it all that fuelled my feelings of discontent. Altogether now… ‘Hey ho’.

 

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