Melting middle fishcake, chips, salad

I’ll keep this very short tonight, because I’m tired. I’m so tired that mum’s dismissive “huh” to my every attempt at conversation is making me want to cry, when usually I would just accept it with the ease of 40+ years’ practice at being considered a dull inconvenience by my own mother.

I went over to Ryde for a physio appointment. Today’s community driver had his wife with him and, once I had hauled my disabled legs up into his high-riding car, enjoyed a lively conversation with them both about the life of a carer. They are caring for three people over the age of 90, which sounds exhausting. They thought that caring for my mum sounded even more exhausting.

The physio appointment was very helpful, and ended with me being discharged – at my request – until I have the time and space to prioritise my own health.

Then I came home, and back to the usual routine of mum complaining and worrying and complaining some more.

For dinner I did stuff from the freezer: a ‘melting middle’ fishcake (with cheese sauce in the middle) for me, and a lamb burger for mum as she has recently decided that she never liked fish. She would probably have been OK with this fishcake, which smelt promisingly of smoked fish but tasted of buggar all.

Now I’m doing the usual whack-a-mole of mum’s worries, from tomorrow’s hospital appointment to her toothache to “will I ever see Lady Friday again?” to the fact that she doesn’t like my millionaire’s ice cream cones (stop eating them then!) and back round to the start again.

From one very exhausted carer, goodnight.