Homemade pizza and salad

The day started early, with mum waking me up with a mildly distressed “what time are we supposed to be waking up?” Now, apparently. 🙄

We were driven over to the hospital, checked in at reception, and found ourselves somewhere to sit. I barely had time to remind mum why we were there (again) when we were called in to see the specialist. Mum got undressed and laid down on the examination table under direction from the nurses, while I gave thanks for the privacy curtain and mentally stuck my fingers in my ears and went “la la la”.

The undressing took longer than the doctor’s examination: he stepped through the curtain, took one look, and announced “yes, it’s lichen sclerosis”. Which (thank you, Dr Google) is a condition of uncertain origin and cause – it might be an autoimmune condition, or it might not – which is chronic in nature, so can be managed but not cured. It can be identified (by a suitably trained and experienced expert, obviously) by bleached patches of skin in affected areas (usually the private parts, but it can spread to other areas) and causes severe itching and soreness.

It’s treated with a strong steroid cream, which we are currently waiting for as the pharmacist had to order it in. It should arrive tomorrow, I hope, as I’ve been promising mum that it will and that it will help. 🤞

Late this afternoon I took a phone call from the driver taking us to tomorrow’s appointment and, getting up to check the calendar to confirm the time, my weary legs betrayed me and I nearly fell. Only the kitchen doorframe kept me upright, if shaken.

Call done, Mum helped me pick up my chair, which I knocked over in my efforts to avoid a fall, then carried on complaining about her own health issues, not even asking if I was OK.

This angered me more that it probably should have done – I blame tiredness – so I was happy to have two overly crispy-crusted pizzas to take my temper out on. Anger management aside, I really must acquire some decent kitchen knives so I can cut pizza(and other things) rather than hacking it apart.

I made two – one simple cheese and tomato, one with chorizo – as mum, by her own declaration, doesn’t like chorizo except in very small quantities. Of course you can guess what happened: mum took one look at the chorizo pizza and said “ooh, that looks good – I’ll have that one, please”. She only ate half of it, but still: that was my pizza. 😥

[Oh, we also had the boiler engineer around today, but he couldn’t do anything as the boiler stubbornly refused to leak while he was here. This evening it’s dripping steadily, naturally.]

Now it’s blowing a gale, I’m exhausted and my right leg hurts where I think I slightly pulled a muscle while staggering around trying to stay upright, and mum’s feeling much better and is talking about staying up to watch television past her usual bedtime. Maybe Storm whatever this one’s called will convince her to go to bed instead.