Fish goujons, salad, roast veg, herby boiled potatoes; carrot cake and cream

I was having one of those weird dreams, the ones that make perfect sense while you’re in them, but once it’s over you think why was I supervising a load of school children at a shopping mall when I don’t even like kids? Why were there alligators in the water feature? And what was Elton John doing there?!¹

In the midst of the weirdness my sister turned up, and I hugged her and cried because I haven’t seen her in my dreams for a while². (I don’t know if I’ve mentioned my sister before: she had the same symptoms I had, but worse because she had an eating disorder throughout her life which left her immune system too weakened to fight anything much, and she tragically died in the pandemic. I miss her more than I can ever express even with all my words.)

She asked me how long I had been dreaming, then said, “Be ready for what happens next. Don’t argue when…” BANG, BANG.

I startled awake to find it was 8am, I had overslept, and HCA J (one of those HCAs who isn’t a favourite because I don’t want to publicly admit to having favourites) was at the door with my breakfast. I managed (I think) a vaguely polite greeting and, taking my sister’s advice, didn’t argue when I discovered the hot milk for my cereal had gone cold, and my toast had been forgotten.

So abruptly leaving my sister, even just as a dream version, for a disappointing breakfast set me up for a low mood kind of day, and the matte grey skies outside all day have done little to lift my spirits. Then a member of the rehab team came to confirm that I will definitely be going home on Monday, so when mum made her usual morning phone call I gave her the good news.

I haven’t said much about it here, but mum has been struggling with the uncertainty over the timing of my return home, and I have fielded multiple tearful phone calls of the “are we ever going to see each other again?” type. I was therefore expecting joy, or at least anxious excitement, at my news, but instead got a vague “oh, that’s nice” and a change of subject. I [bleep]ing hate dementia.

It was going to take a very special lunch indeed to put me into a better state of mind, and this lunch wasn’t it. That’s not to say it wasn’t good, because it was: I had a nice little logpile of fish goujons – crispy breadcrumbs on the outside, nice flaky fish on the inside – instead of the sad three I got last time they were on the menu. The accompanying roasted veg was an odd combination of vegetables (parsnip, carrot, red onion, cherry tomatoes, and possibly courgette), reminding me of the sort I make when I’ve got various veggies to use up and no better ideas for what to do with them, but most veggies are good roasted and the seasoning on them was very tasty. The boiled potatoes were pretty dull (not the kitchen’s fault – I’ve always thought boiling is the most boring way to prepare a potato) but were a good vehicle for the salad cream and hot sauce I added to my plate.

Then there was carrot cake, which reminded me a lot of the one I occasionally get from Lidl as a treat – I hope whoever made the cake (if it was homemade) isn’t insulted by that comparison, as it’s certainly not meant as an insult: the Lidl carrot cake is really good, and so was this.

Should I do scores? I’m not really feeling it, tbh: maybe 6/10 for the main course – decent enough, but not remotely exciting – and 7.5/10 for the carrot cake?

It’s Friday again tomorrow (and how the heck did that happen? Where did the week go?) which means fish and chips, and then a ‘trying something new’ in the form of chocolate cheesecake for dessert: it combines an existing favourite (cheesecake) with a new favourite (chocolate) so I imagine I’m going to like it.

Until then I’ll be sitting here with Crocodile Rock running on a loop in my head, which is enjoyable right up to the point that it isn’t.

🎵 La, lalalala la, lalalala la….

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1. Ohhh… Crocodile Rock, maybe? I’ve literally just made the connection that my unconscious brain made hours ago. ↩︎
2. I generally have lucid dreams (i.e. I know I’m dreaming and can steer my dreams in a different direction if I wish to do so, although I generally prefer to just let my unconscious mind have free rein and marvel at the nonsense it comes up with.) ↩︎