Sausage and tomato pasta

I’ll start on a tangent: an “I tried something new” segment.

Back when I thought mum’s stomach pains were possibly caused by lactose intolerance (remember that? I appreciate it’s hard to keep track of mum’s ailments, poor lady) I bought some Swedish Glace non-dairy ice cream in an attempt to fill the coffee ice cream-shaped gap in mum’s life.

Mum, being essentially neophobic, refused to even try it, and the distinctive polygonal tub has sat in the bottom drawer of the freezer ever since. Today, in the absence of my favourite clotted cream ice cream (a touch hypocritical of me, I fully appreciate), I finally got it out and tried it.

Maybe I’ve been spoiled for life by the weird ice cream they serve in hospital – which I initially thought was revolting but eventually joined the scrabble to get the last tub on the trolley – but it’s honestly pretty good. I bought raspberry flavour, and it tastes decently fruity. It’s creamy, melts like ice cream, and is… yeah, pretty decent.

I’m not sure I like it enough to buy it again, but the tub I bought is finally going to be consumed. And then I have an interestingly shaped tub to use for… something. 🤷‍♂️

---

And so back to today, although there’s not much to say about it.

Mum woke up feeling lousy, as she generally does, and I was less patient than I probably should have been when she started her “what did I do to deserve this?” routine. For my own reasons I find the idea of ‘deserving’ illness / disability a sensitive one, and I always respond more snappishly than is really merited.

On the positive side, it usually stops mum complaining for a few minutes, at least!

By the afternoon, mum felt well enough to suggest that she come with me to my blood test appointment tomorrow. Which surprised me, but if she wants to come, she’s welcome, I guess. 🤷‍♂️

---

Dinner was one of those classic day-before-grocery-delivery meals, using up various odds and ends. Mum greeted it with that least encouraging of responses, a vague “uh”, followed by “I guess I’ll have a little bit”. Which she did, then filled the gaps with – you guessed it – coffee ice cream.

Tomorrow I have, as I said, an appointment for a blood test, after which I can start my new medication. I still don’t know exactly how it’s meant to help, but if it evicts the little person who keeps punching the inside of my ankle, I’m all for it.

Also tomorrow I have, or was meant to have, a two week review of Lady Friday’s visits over the phone. Instead, they now want to visit and talk to us in person, which has sent me into an anxious spiral: does Lady Friday not like mum? Or me? Has she raised concerns about mum being hungry last time she visited? (Mum refused to eat. I can’t force her.) Have I inadvertently said something that they find offensive on here?

Of course it’s almost certainly none of these things, but I’m going to be low-key worrying until she’s been and gone.

Wish me luck please, peeps.