Shwarma-style chicken, salad, foccacia
No post yesterday because, as you probably guessed, I was way too tired to write after our early morning hospital visit.
That didn’t go entirely to plan: I lost the letter with the details of mum’s appointment, so I called the hospital and was told it was yesterday at 8.30am. So we got to the hospital and… it was today, not yesterday.
I can only imagine the expression of befuddlement, betrayal, and exhaustion I gave the receptionist, but he went to find a member of medical staff, who went to find her boss, who called her counterpart in another department and, after all that, we were given a new appointment (yay!) on the other side of the hospital (not so yay, because my legs can’t walk that far).
We were told to ask at the main reception desk for someone to give me a lift on a tandem scooter, but there was no-one at the desk, and no scooter. A few phone calls later, a porter was dispatched with a wheelchair and, while I waited, I directed a few lost-looking people to their destinations. I rapidly decided I was rather enjoying myself, even with mum anxiety spiralling next to me, so when I arrived at the other side of the hospital my first stop was at the volunteer station to ask for an application form1. The second stop was, of course, for coffee and cake.
While sipping my oat milk flat white (I’m bouji and I know it) I started thinking about how I could get to the hospital. A short bit of internet research later, I discovered that I’m eligible for the Motability scheme (which, if you’ve never heard of it, is a UK scheme which provides adapted cars (and apparently scooters and powered wheelchairs, too) for disabled people. I haven’t yet looked into it any further, but there is at last the hope of independent mobility for me once more. I am really very excited at the prospect.
From there the story peters out into a scan carried out, snacks bought, and a car drive home, but it was an interesting trip for more than one reason.
Today mum hasn’t felt well, and she has been telling me so every thirty seconds or so since I woke up, to the point that I posted on a Facebook group for carers for advice before I said or did something I would regret.
By this afternoon she was better enough to start pass-agg hints that “there will be food at some point, won’t there?” Still exhausted from yesterday, I pan-fried some ‘shwarma-style’ chicken from Tesco, which wasn’t particularly reminiscent of shwarma but was good, and served it with salad and bread. Done and done, thank goodness.
Tomorrow a nurse practitioner is visiting to try and get to the root of mum’s constant gastrointestinal issues. Mum is, of course, already worrying about it, so I’m not expecting a peaceful night of sleep.
Hey ho, see you tomorrow.
- Not that I’m planning on volunteering atm – I clearly don’t have the physical or mental strength, but it’s a nice thought for the hopefully not too distant future. ↩︎
Is it pineapple sponge today? 