Spring greens and paneer curry

Not much to report for today, as both mum and I have been very tired after all the trekking around the hospital yesterday.

I didn’t really want to go out again, but it’s local election day here on the Island. I always feel that I have a responsibility to all the women who fought for my right to vote, to go and vote.

Mum decided not to come with me, apologising over and over that she didn’t feel able to do it. At that moment, she clearly understood how her failing memory is affecting her, and it’s a tragedy.

Vote cast, I came home to clear out the (now mostly defrosted) freezer. Mum was, at that moment, aware enough to actively help me: I held the bin bag, mum dragged the stuff out and threw it in the bag. Hopefully it will finish defrosting by tomorrow, so it can be taken away for recycling when the new one is delivered.

That done, mum’s headache made an unwelcone return. Mum had already forgotten what the tests yesterday were about, and several times asked me when someone was going to help with her headaches. My explanations of “we’re waiting for the results of the tests you had yesterday” got increasingly less patient as the day went on.

Because I’m so tired, I have been rather more snappish with mum than she deserves. I really had to count to ten when mum looked at my freshly cooked curry and said “I’d rather have some of my nice food”, ‘nice food’ apparently being anything other than what I had cooked.

She ate most of her portion but told me she didn’t like it, and asked if it was OK if she left the rest, like she was a little child expecting to be told off for not finishing her dinner. Sometimes mum does these things that are oddly childlike, and every time it breaks my heart.

Mum followed her meal with two cupboard-stable sponge puddings and cream. I haven’t had anything, as my latest giant box of discount treats has arrived and a box of white chocolate fingers is calling my name. (White ones because mum doesn’t like white chocolate, and buying things mum doesn’t like is the only way I can guarantee I’ll get to eat them. Or at least almost guarantee it: I bought myself strawberry yoghurts because mum doesn’t like anything strawberry flavoured, and mum ate then anyway.)

And so goodnight. I’ll see you on the other side of a box of chocolate fingers, a good sleep, and the installation of some new appliances.