My body is wracked with woes today: unsteadiness, pain, frustration. My spirit is flying low because i'm angry about nothing in particular and everything at the same time.
My vision is like when you get splattered with mud by a passing truck: cold flash of surprise, followed by sad frustration and resignation.
I'm entering my 5th year of being unwell. Five years since i've worked. Five years of falling. I'm tired.
My whining ends here.
My boyfriend's parents are in a nursing home and it is not a place of home, neither providing the comforts of home or the dignity of privacy. How can group living in a staffed institution be so? But it is a place of unexpected kindness and gentle routines. No one eats salsa anymore, going to the theatre isn't an option, but when going for a walk has lost out to sore limbs and feeble minds, it turns out that safety is, not only the first demand of life but also the last requirement.
Do you have a safety plan?
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