Today I walked down Cowley Road. Alone. Not pushing a chair and not having to make conversation with anyone. I browsed the secondhand bookshops, I avoided a man trying to sell me okra, I collected money from the bank. And then I came back to the house and sat with my little girl as she played with dolls and a play kitchen and the craft supplies. And then I sat with my bigger girl and snuggled her to sleep.
Not very exciting perhaps, but a dry run for tomorrow when I getting spend a whole full day with a dear friend. We're off to find old Inklings haunts. And to sit and walk and chat and walk and sit. And chat. Fun times.
Tonight I had to do what I have been avoiding for a while, and update the girls' DNR forms. They are massively overdue as I have refused to fill them in when the girls are around. Not because I want to hide things from them but because there are ways and means of discussing these things. And having a child on my lap as I decide what measures should or should not be taken in an emergency is not my chosen means of doing it.
So we fixed a time when they would be in bed, and I geared myself up to facing an overdose of reality. We did the first one very easily, a couple of minor alterations and a shock for the nurse who had somehow not picked up on all the complications. And then I was ready for the next. A much harder one this. And one which has been waiting several years. And...it didn't get done. They won't accept I have the right to fill it in unless they have a piece of paper telling them I have that right. So it will be shelved, massively out of date and unsigned, for another few months. I just hope we don't need it in the meantime.
Doing the thing is hard. I wonder though if the decisionmakers realise how hard not doing it can also be?
And then I walked back down the corridor and listened to two girls sleeping sweetly. And came back upstairs and had a glass of wine and read a book and enjoyed the reassurance that someone else would be doing the night shift again. I could get used to this.