Pie, mash, veg, gravy / roasted Mediterranean veg with cheese-topped jacket potatoes

Yesterday featured something very rare: a genuine apology from mum.

Mum apologises a lot, but it’s never normally a real apology: it’s a disguised plea for reassurance. “I’m sorry I’m so stupid” (you’re not stupid, mum – you just have problems with your memory), “I’m sorry I’m a burden” (you’re not a burden, mum), “I’m sorry I’m ill all the time” (it will get better).

Yesterday, as usual, mum had a severe headache, and spent much of the morning lying in a darkened room. I was having a bad pain day, but I’ve got used to ignoring it as far as possible: there’s nothing really causing the pain – it’s just my nerve endings firing at random, and it can be ignored like a faulty smoke alarm once you’ve confirmed there’s no actual fire.

By the time our groceries arrived, mum had got up, and had started the usual weekly flap about “where am I supposed to put all this stuff?” I sent mum off to put her ice cream in the outside freezer, while I chatted to the delivery driver and put everything else away.

Then I collapsed in my chair with a glass of water, trying but failing to ignore the sensation of a burning hot cactus being applied to my feet. Mum gave me a hug, and said quietly “I’m sorry. I’m not being very fair to you, am I? I keep complaining about my problems, and you’ve got plenty of problems of your own.”

By this morning, of course, normal complaining service had been resumed, but for a brief while mum actually noticed someone other than herself.

The rest of today has been an ever-repeating cycle of mum attempting to get up, deciding she felt too unwell and in too much pain, and returning to bed. At one point she asked if I could call someone, knowing that that would result in another trip to hospital, but she was in so much pain she was prepared to risk that.

I persuaded her to wait for half an hour to see if another dose of painkillers would help, which it did enough to convince mum to wait until the GP surgery opens tomorrow morning. We already have an appointment booked for Wednesday, so I’m hoping mum will be well enough to wait until then, but we’ll just have to see.

I’m really hoping that the person we see, whoever that is, has some idea of how to help mum: she currently spends so much time in pain that I can’t blame her for the occasional “just shoot me, please”. I just want her to feel better.

For dinner I was intending to cook an old favourite of mine, a vegetable casserole with dumplings but, by the time mum was feeling even vaguely capable of eating, it was too late for me to start cooking that. Instead I microwaved a couple of potatoes, then put them in the oven to finish cooking with some Mediterranean mixed veg. It’s mum’s favourite meal, and I’m pleased that she ate her half with some enthusiasm.

Now it’s the usual tv, decaff coffee, and something from the somewhat excessive selection of sweet stuff I’ve bought: I may have got a little carried away. Ah well, at least that’s an easy problem to solve!