When the wind blows.

The weather here is a tad blustery (I don't want to exaggerate!). Gale force gusts had taken down a couple of fences when I woke this morning. On a World scale this is nothing, two fence panels on the floor (broken of course), the only problem really being that Toni could easily go for a wander around the neighbourhood (watch out cats!)

I kept her locked in and after breakfast set about securing the perimeter with all the flair of  Heath Robinson. The panels are supported now by various crates full of stone and a couple of poles at jaunty angles which are weighted at one end with heavy bags. 

I should be proud / pleased that I have proven my self-sufficiency, I don't need a man in a crisis (the builder will be replacing the panels when the wind dies down.) Instead I am a blubbering wreck, it's a job that Mike would have done just a couple of years ago. It's the little things that set me off.

Fundamental error?

Okay so I made a fundamental error. Any of you out there who are crafty will know that: 

• Four weeks isn't enough time to make everyone a present.
• You can't make biscuits or sweets a month in advance unless you can freeze them (my freezer is teeny tiny and full). 
• I'm not fast enough at doing stuff these days.

That doesn't mean I am giving up, it just means I will have to wait a couple of weeks and then go on a made cooking spree (I have more chance with edible presents than I do knitted / crocheted / sewn.)

The plan is:

• Chocolate truffles (various flavours).
• Toffee (various flavours).
• Coffee cups (can I really temper chocolate?!?)
• Cranberry and white chocolate cookies (they are divine).
• Pebernødder (done these before and Toni loves them).

I just have to be patient now.

Let the countdown begin.

Despite all our troubles, I am determined to make Christmas special. With only five weeks to go I need to start thinking about the gifts I am going to give. 

I plan to give everyone gifts that are at least in part homemade, be that blackcurrant gin (more a liqueur than a gin), sweets or biscuits. 

These are ready to wrap.

I am busy looking for recipes now, for things I can make that will keep until Christmas. 

Reality check.

It's a strange world. We all know that we will die one day, and yet no-one wants to actually talk about death. We brush the subject under the carpet, imagine there isn't an elephant in the room, pretend that medical science will find a cure next week...... People don't like having to face up to it, even the medical profession try and gloss over things. When Mike told the CNS that after eighteen months of no progress he had had enough her first response was "would you like to see a counsellor?" Er no, not unless they have a magic wand / cure for Mike's lack of progress. Can they make his haemaglobin normal? Can they increase his platelets? Can they make him feel fit enough to walk around the park with the dog? Of course they can't. There is nothing that they can say to change the fact Mike is on borrowed time. His body is tired, there is only so long you can be on dialysis even if you have nothing wrong with your blood and bone marrow. To have two things dragging you down means the end is bound to be sooner. We are both tired, we have reached a point where, unless something drastically changes, it is time to call a halt to treatments that are simply prolonging the inevitable end. 

Would you believe it!

Nearly a year has passed since my last blog entry.  So many times I have thought of posting, so many times I have decided not to bother as nothing has really changed. I kept waiting for that massive / small improvement in either Mike's health or mine, but  it hasn't happened. 

After over twelve months of no change, and with the news that there is now no chance of being put on the kidney transplant list (we had been told he would be put on the list once he had recovered from his SCT) Mike's thoughts have turned to what he wants to do when they tell him his myeloma is back or his dialysis is not working. It is now his myeloma and his kidney disease, I am the carer, nurse, slave, who tends to his every demand and need, nothing more, nothing less. 

I try desperately not to be bitter, but I have no time to be ill, he is always worse off than me. I permanently mourn the loss of the man I married, the Mike I have now is overly demanding and selfish. His insistence on being optimistic at all times gives me no emotional room to express doubts and fears, he no longer cares how I feel if I am not feeling optimistic. 

I so want to be happy and cheerful. I want to be happy with him. I fear I may never be happy again.

Now I feel awful that this post is so negative. I will try and find something more positive for my next post.  x x x