Cheese and onion crispbakes, chips and salad

[I didn’t take a photo of dinner because it was just beige things with salad. The headline picture is one of the stock photo images that comes up for the word ‘crisp’. 🤷‍♂️]

This morning mum again woke up in pain, this time so serious that she agreed to let me phone the doctor for a spot on the day’s call-back list. She then spent the rest of the morning asking over and over again for reassurance that she wasn’t being silly, that the doctor wouldn’t make her look stupid, that I would be with her, that no-one would take her away, and seemingly endless variations on the theme.

Nothing I said seemed to provide the required reassurance, and eventually I would lose my patience and respond with more exasperation than kindness, which would stop the flow of questions for… oh, maybe a few minutes.

By the afternoon, mum was feeling a bit better, and I made the mistake of mentioning that I’m meant to be going into Newport at some point this week. I can’t remember the wording of mum’s response, but it included tears and a strong implication that I was abandoning her.

Eventually (or at least it felt like eventually) the doctor called – the same one I saw last week – and advised a certain course of treatment for mum’s intestinal issues, and arranged a home visit on Wednesday to investigate the stomach pain.

Around this time mum apologised for her behaviour this morning, particularly for implying I was abandoning her. I accepted her apology and all was peaceful for… oh, maybe a few minutes.

Then mum started panicking about the prescribed treatment, and the home visit, and the pain in her stomach, and anything and everything else.

Over the weekend I had a text chat with mum’s closest friend, who commented that I need “lots of strength and patience” to deal with mum, and she’s not wrong.

Now mum is not so quietly watching videos on her phone, while I try to listen to Only Connect, which is difficult enough without having most of the sound drowned out by clips of America’s Got Talent. Oh well, at least mum’s happy, for… oh, maybe a few minutes.