Prawn and pepper korma with pilau rice / chicken, mini Yorkies, veg

Sorry I didn’t post yesterday.

Mum has been feeling quite vocally unwell, repeating over and over that she can’t stop weeing, that her stomach hurts, what has she done to deserve this, etc, etc, until my patience is gone and I’ve snap something I instantly regret. Then she apologises over and over, until she cries and I feel thoroughly guilty, then we loop back to “it hurts” and start all over again.

I get the feeling that mum, at some level, believes I know how to make her feel better and am not telling her because… who knows?

It’s thoroughly unpleasant for mum, and equally exhausting for me, and I can feel carer burnout creeping up on me.

Tomorrow I will follow-up with the organisation that was supposed to be helping me advertise for a PA, so I can escape for a short while without leaving mum alone, and with Motability so I can go somewhere when that day comes. Soon, I hope.

Dinner last night was meant to be a red Thai prawn curry (a very mild one, of course), but when I went to cook it I discovered that the box of creamed coconut that I could have sworn was in the cupboard, wasn’t. I panicked, my brain too overwhelmed to think of a solution, and I ended up just grabbing a jar of korma sauce and pouring it over the prawns and peppers in the pan. (How very alliterative.)

A quick taste revealed it tasted of sweet and not much else, so I added a generous shake of garam masala and a bit of salt, which made it slightly better. Sadly there was no saving the microwave pilau rice: I bought Ben’s brand rather than Tilda as it was on special offer, and will never do so as it was gummy, tasteless, and fit only for the food waste bin where most of it ended up. 0/10 would not recommend, at all.

(I also wouldn’t recommend tripping up a step because your feet suddenly decide they don’t want to lift up enough and catching yourself by your elbow on the door frame. My elbow is an interesting shade of blue today, and is very tender whenever I catch it on the arm of my orthopedic chair, which is frequently.)

Tonight, after another day of mum feeling very unwell and telling me about it every 30 seconds (I know I sound unsympathetic, and I apologise, but by this point of the day I’m all out of sympathy), I went for the easiest roast dinner ever: “extra-tasty” chicken fillets (from Iceland, and a favourite of mum’s even if she doesn’t remember it), with mini Yorkshire puddings (Aunt Bessie’s brand, which my chef BIL swears by), and mixed frozen veg seasoned with a bit of Aromat. Then the water from the veg went in the chicken pan for instant gravy (well, more of a thin jus, but near enough gravy).

Mum said she felt too ill to eat much. but surprised herself by eating and enjoying everything on her plate. Having eaten some proper food, drunk a couple of glasses of fruit squash (cordial), and distracted herself from her misery with a repeat episode of The Chase, she felt much better and noted that much of her earlier misery was caused by having too much in her head. I have been trying to tell her that all day but she wouldn’t believe me: I suggested that she write herself a note, as she might believe herself more than she believes me, but she wasn’t convinced.

So that’s another day nearly done. Tomorrow will doubtless be more of the same again tomorrow for me, although I will try and think of something different to write about.