Sunday, 9 September 2007

My body is a cage

Having a lie in is a mixed blessing. Gives you time to think about the situation and worry about what new developments have happened since the previous evening. Makes every morning a thing of dread not hope for a new day.

Eventually steeled myself and went downstairs. The boy was watching TV. Completely unable to sit up, he was surrounded by myriad cushions propping him up in all concievable ways and his favourite yellow cushion on his lap. His speech was terrible. The odd syllables and mumbled word. But essentially mute. Absolutely crushing. And then he got restless again and we gave him morphine.

He did rouse himself to do half-hearted cooking while Mummy had a rest. But was hard for both of us. He was frustrated when he made the effort to say something but I didn't understand. And I was frustrated when he would point vaguely at something and then shake his head every time I picked something up where he had pointed. The constant guessing game was wearing us both out. I was losing my temper when he beckoned me over and gave me a hug. Too, too painful.

Hard to know whether what he was has disappeared elbowed out by the cuckoo of the tumour or just harder for him to get out and us to find. The morphine doesn't help. I didn't enjoy the junkie wasted look yesterday when the morphine first kicked in. The vacancy in the eyes as his world seemed to slip out of focus. But what to do? The inability to get himself comfortable as the pain in his head wouldn't leave him alone is no better.

Just when the day seemed irretrievable, he signed he wanted auntie. After a few fruitless calls, we got hold of her and went over.

He seemed cheered by the change of scene. He sat cradled in my lap at her back step and called pitifully quietly for the cat. But he didn't come. So, the boy agreed to make tea. He managed to stay mostly sitting upright with limited support while he helped make the tea. He put teabags in the cup, poured in the milk and stirred the tea. Was good to see as he has been uninterested in doing this at home.

And then the cat came. The boy immediately tried to drag himself to the back step to see. The cat even came close enough for him to use his good arm to stroke it. He was so pleased. It seemed such a small victory on such a bleak day. We could hear the announcements in the nearby park. Reminded me that this time last year we went. We were just out of hospital as he was on chemo then but enjoyed himself so much on a little roundabout. Such a contrast this year.

Cheered by the cat, he wanted to play 'house' upstairs with auntie and Mummy using auntie's duvet. He sat, king of his little palace, receiving visits from chi chi panda and big panda. A little bit of 'happy' time. We even played one round of hide and seek, with me squashing myself with him in the shower whilst we hid from auntie. He used to do this alone but there are too many hard surfaces to let him do it alone now.

After some deliberation, we gave him more morphine before bed time. Helped us all have a better bath time than the last couple of days. But it made him so, so floppy and hard to handle in and out of the bath.

And back to work tomorrow.

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