Anyway I'd like to say that things have got massively better but, erm, they haven't - although the toddler is pretty much fixed. He's is merrily back to trying to remove his arms from their sockets all over again by adopting the position and flexibility of a calcified starfish every time he's confronted with some type of safety harness (pushchair, car seat - you know the kind of things you HAVE to bend your arms, and part of your torso, to get into). Having said that, he was napping in his cot when a wasp stung him on the nose. He cried for 2 hours solid - you know it's serious when even a Jaffa Cake won't take away the pain - but no lasting effects.
And the grief? How is the grief? Well I've decided that grief is like a large moth. Much of the time it sits on the wall, somewhere in your peripheral vision, and every so often it catches your eye and you think 'ohhhhh - oh yes, that's OK, I know what that it is, I'm OK with it, it's just that old moth!'. But then suddenly, usually at night, it comes clattering down, flickering around the light before clattering into you with no warning - bumbling about and bashing you before leaving you with nothing but the trace of its dusty wings. And for a while you're not sure if it's really gone back to sleep on the wall or if it will suddenly reappear. You know it will come back - you just don't know when. And that is grief - the brooding moth on the wall.
Anyway apart from the toddler (mainly good), the grief (as could be expected), the toilet (still totally f***ed), the TV (oddly back to it's normal self) and god knows what else - that just leaves me.
Well the good news is the Pharyngitis has gone - yay I can SPEAK! The bad news? It was quickly followed by some weird flu like bug which involved a migraine, vomiting, hot and cold flushes and generally not being able to get out of bed - so I had nobody to actually speak to (although I speaking was too exhausting to actually contemplate). Today is my first day trying to assimilate back into the 'real world' - and it, is to be frank, freaky.
I'm not sure how much of the freakiness is due to still being quite ill and how much is due to the fact that I'm coming down of Night Nurse.
To those of you who have dabbled in the seedy world of Night Nurse it needs no introduction. For those of you who haven't - well it's hard to believe they sell it over the counter for about a fiver a bottle. It's like taking a freight train to oblivion. Knock it back (that takes some doing - it's like a maxed out version of Absinthe) and you are 'gone' for about 16 hours. If you happen to wake up/be roused awake during those hours then........good luck!
When I was a teenager a friend bought me a plastic cereal bowl featuring Winnie the Pooh (Classic Pooh - not Disney Pooh - there is a big difference, an important difference, I can only abide Classic Pooh) falling out of a bee-filled tree with the words 'and then of course there's the coming down......' written round the rim.
It was quite profound that bowl. I took it to Uni with me and used to often eat cereal out of it thinking 'yup, he's right old Pooh Bear''. It was still going until one of my kids threw it onto my MIL's patio and smashed it. Maybe there's a message in there somewhere? Or maybe there isn't - I've just been taking too much Night Nurse.
Anyway - that's what I feel like - an old stuffed bear falling out of a tree to god knows where.
My first experience in the world of Night Nurse was when I came in from a big night out aged about 17 and promptly passed out on a friend's bedroom floor. She claimed I was snoring (and who am I to argue?) and decided that the best cure would be to wake me and persuade me to add to the copious amounts of vile brightly coloured liquid I had already consumed (this was the age of Mad Dog 20/20) by necking a shot of Night Nurse. I happily complied and woke up somewhere around a day later feeling like I was floating on a cotton wool cloud. I have no idea WHY my friend thought it would stop me from snoring - perhaps she thought it would kill me and therefore take care of the snoring? She was a rather odd friend. We don't speak anymore - not since she bit through my thigh. Anyway - moving on......
The Night Nurse has got me through but it's messed with my mind. A couple of nights ago the toddler woke me up and was screaming the house down. I tried to get up to him but just kept banging into the bedroom wall and falling back onto the bed so I told my OH to go. He said he'd already been in 3 times, the toddler was taking the p1ss and we should just leave it. Mid scream the toddler fell TOTALLY silent. 'There we go!' said my OH, told you so! 'But what if he's not breathing!' I said! 'I need to go and check!' and with that I fell back to sleep for another 10 hours........
Then this morning I found myself having to do the school run. It was scary being outside! Let alone with all the straight lines slightly bent and the feeling that I was wearing a very large cotton-wool snowsuit. I (somehow) made it from the school to Tesco (no nappies, no milk - needs must) - this was not without near mishap though.
The Lollipop man (more on him another day - the guy is a nutjob of the highest order) was in the road waving all the traffic through with his 'lollipop' (I think he has a bit too much fun waving his lollipop around that one, he's on a one-man-lollipop-power-trip) and my brain managed to make this connection:
Lollipop man in road + Lollipop + wild waving and gesticulating + oncoming traffic in both directions = STEP RIGHT INTO THE ROAD WITH TWO SMALL CHILDREN AND WATCH EVERYBODY RECOIL IN HORROR - NONE MORE SO THAT MR. LOLLIPOP MAN HIMSELF WHO IS PROBABLY THINKING, IF THEY ALL DIE I'LL LOSE MY JOB AND THEREFORE MY LOLLIPOP AND THEN WHAT WILL I DO WITH MY LIFE!?
No one was hurt. I smiled and moved on.
And then in Tesco I had a very very odd moment.
I looked up (somewhere in the chilled meats aisle) and there, before me, were too ladies of around 70, one wearing an Oasis Tour t-shirt and the other wearing a skinny-fit Superman top - of the type highly popular during the 1990's and worn by girls going to Charlatan's gigs.
Have I actually, somewhat like Sleeping Beauty, been put to sleep by the Night Nurse for circa 40 years? Is THIS how we are going to age?
Of course the alternative is someone dropped the clothes off at Help the Aged and the old dears took first dibs. If one of them was wearing black PVC underwear 'Brand New With Tags' then I could have been sure that was the right answer, but I didn't want to ask.
Anyway I moved through the store, unsure what decade I was in (I tried glancing at the newspaper headlines to check but all I could see was the Daily Mail and they don't seem to have changed their headlines for the last 3 decades, so I can't imagine that they would change them in next 3) and got to the till.
The cashier looked down, looked up and said 'I haven't got a name'.
'I haven't got a name'
'Erm, and this is releavent to my purchase of 78 nappies, 5 packs of wet wipes and a loaf of bread HOW?' (Ok I didn't say that bit but I chanted it in my head to remind myself that I was the sane one, even with the Night Nurse).
'My badge - it's fallen off!'.
'Oh - I see. Well I'm sure you can still remember what you're called'.
'Yes, I'm called Annette. But I'll be in trouble you see. If I don't display it'
'Right, I see' (or rather I don't see).
And then I came home.
As fast as I could.
And then I wrote this, went to the (broken) toilet, came back AND IT WAS GONE.......The computer had turned itself off (for no apparent reason).
So, purely from the goodness of my heart, I've typed it all up again.
If it confuses you, then you'll begin to start to know how I feel.