Home, where the heart is
So, we went back to Adelong yesterday, and things were good. We took an apple pie and a giant punnet of strawberries from the Farmer’s Market, and both were very welcome. There was much laying about, catching up on lost sleep, eating yummy food, and seeing my assorted relatives. There was much gossiping and exchanging of news, some good and some not so good.
Mum has not been well. Her doctor sent her for blood tests, and later for a bone marrow biopsy, and the results were not great. She has been diagnosed with a rare type of leukemia, but will have to wait another month or so til she gets to see a haematologist to discuss her treatment options. In the meantime, her samples will get crunched by clever pathologists to figure out what treatment/s may work for her. Madam was able to use her google-fu to find Mum some useful information and put her mind (at least a little) at ease, as well as mine.
I’m still very mixed up about this. While I know that things are being managed as well as they can be, I’m feeling guilty about my plans to move away now that I know my mother is seriously unwell. Reactions from various relatives will range from guilt treatment (from the guardian angels) to indifference (from my stupid-arsed brother who isn’t returning anyone’s calls, either because he’s having a hissy fit or because he’s scared people want something from him). Mum herself was grateful we came to visit, and extra grateful that we helped to explain the situation. I shouldn’t care what anyone else has to say. Should I?
Should I?
I know my feelings aren’t entirely rational. I know the situation is as under control as it can be (and if things were serious, then she’d be getting treatment right now). Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m doing something wrong, or neglecting her, or screwing up somehow.
My mother turned 69 this month. I’m not ready to let her go just yet.
Administrivia
A couple of millstones milestones I missed reporting due to the dreaded lurgi (or lack of interest) -
Last month, I came within a whisper of 1000 hits. Given what I had to get through in order to gain that much attention, I’m not about to try and repeat the experience – still, it’s a notable figure.
Yesterday, I passed 5000 total visits since this blog started a little over a year ago. Again, not much to crow about in the general scheme of things, but a milestone none the less.
I’ve also included a couple more interesting links on the blogroll. Peruse at your leisure.
One minor question – I’m interested to know how people are reading. I know quite a few of you read via the Livejournal feed that Madam set up, and I can see some of you checking via Google Reader / iGoogle. I know one person reads via bloglines (and I’m 99% sure who it is) but I’m interested to know if people are keeping up by any other means… cos actually looking at blogs is so Web 1.5, don’tcha know.
All information will be gratefully read / obsessed over / digested. *urp* Pardon. Carry on.
Saturday, soup and meanderings
Well, this day has worked out pretty well all things considered.
I had a grand plan to make soup, and we feasted well tonight. My attempt at chicken and rice soup resembles a slightly wet risotto more than anything, but it is very tasty and will serve us well for leftovers this week. I may post the recipe later if I can reconstruct it..!
We got our necessary shopping done without too much fuss or aggravating Madam’s cold too much. I’ve spent the evening struggling with a few writing ideas, and ended up surfing the intertubes looking for instruction / inspiration. My notes so far -
- Alan Moore is every bit as mad as I expected him to be, but in a rather charming fashion;
- According to Wikipedia, nothing of note has happened in the field of graphic novels in the last fifteen years;
- 30 Days Of Night seems to be a reasonably respectable film, despite having a former Aussie soapie star in the case;
- There are no limits to how screwed up humans can be. Click here only if you’re prepared to be thoroughly disturbed. PZ Myers leads a discussion so I don’t have to.
An early night and no bad dreams tonight, I hope.
I could be bounded in a nutshell,
and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
Actually, given my tastes for dark materials, it’s remarkable that I don’t have more. Last night was a corker, though. A vivid, lucid dream that I couldn’t make myself wake up from, until I finally made enough noise that Madam woke me. Lucid dreams are sadly rare for me, nightmares even scarcer. Like most dreams, it makes little or no sense in the waking world – there was a presence in the house that was taunting me, threatening Madam (who I couldn’t rouse) and at the end there was a confrontation, I think. For the first time in ages, I found myself trying to scream out loud, and the unsettling sensation of knowing I was dreaming but couldn’t wake up. No wonder Wes Craven got rich on the back of people’s night terrors.
I seriously doubt my taste in literature and cinema has anything to do with the quality of my dreams. I have had a difficult week, what with work being special, the interview, spending a day in bed with the lurgi that’s been going around and dragging myself in for work yesterday. If anything, the end of Watchmen ought to be giving me nightmares – I’d completely forgotten the ending, remarkable as it seems. I’m re-reading it, and am very glad I went to the trouble of finding it.
Madam has been sick as well, but she seems to be on the home stretch of hacking out the bug. We’ll be taking things easy this weekend, just to be sure. She’s got a busy time at work coming up, and we need her to be strong for all that loverly overtime. And, you know, cos I love her and stuff.
Speaking of which, it’s nearly time to rouse her. More later, I’m sure.
