A spot of woe is me back at home with confirmation that the hospice will not be increasing our respite provision, despite recognising the increased need. And the rueful realisation that my freehand embroidery skills are sadly as lacking as the ivories on my piano keys. I would not make a very good Austen herione. Then again, I suspect being a single parent would rule me out of her cast list anyway.
A woeful shoal of fish, sixty of them now in a sixty litre tank - is there really no one out there who wants some baby mollies? Free. Breed them yourself, feed them to your loaches, I don't care...
Suddenly the day is mostly over, and time to collect Little Fish. She runs her chair over my foot and into my ankle seven times on the walk home. I start with a gentle "watch where you're going, sweetie", moving on up through "OW!" and "please focus on what you're doing" to my final "WILL you watch what you are doing that REALLY HURTS and YOU HAVE TO STOP IT NOW" delivered at top volume right at the corner of the road; I turn away from Little Fish and
We cross the road, we cuddle, we watch out for Grolly who has taken to waiting for us in a driveway and joining us for the last part of our walk home. She is not there, and a woeful Little Fish has to be persuaded to walk on without her before Mog's bus beats us home.
We have a nice gently giggly couple of hours before we do the bedtime thing, and we all feel all the better for it. Mog continues to giggle for the next few hours, until her own bedtime arrives; on landing on her bed she promptly locks into a full body spasm, and lies, rigid and screaming, fingers frantically hunting for something to hold onto and scratch, for the next hour and a half. Our sitter segues into washerwoman, hander-out-of-medications and cleaner, whilst I transform myself from Woman On Her Way to Housegroup into Stay at Home Mum. I'm not sure where that leaves me in the whole Christian Parent thing.
Peace eventually returns; diazepam and painkillers eventually force Mog's body to relax and she falls into an exhausted sleep. The CPAP is now fighting losing battle with the diazepam's ability to relax everything; it's a quieter snore I suppose than before, but I wouldn't suggest it's completely better. We increase the settings tomorrow; I hope that helps.
I've just turned Little Fish so hopefully that's her for the night. I've just repositioned Mog for the fourth time and she's still managing to obstruct, so now I have the choice to either sit and hold her jaw for the next we while or roll her onto the hip which seems to be the cause of much of her spasm and hope she's in a deep enough sleep that she won't notice. Something tells me it could be a long night.
Hope the night wasnt as long as you feared. I finally managed to get to bible study this evening after missing it last week due to illness. Come home with my mind full of questions. Im hoping sleep comes soon. Its been a strange month.
Take care of yourself and you have many brownie points in God's house.
I hope Mog sleeps well through the night tonight and in less pain. I am sorry that she has to experience such pain. Spasms sucks...I have spasms too and they are no fun. I set up a new Blog for myself, feel free to friend me if you haven't already. I've been reading your blog for quite some time.
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