Just when everything seems to be going well, it all hits the fan again.
Two oldies dropped off the twig over the weekend, one being Gordy so Bingo is not going to be quite the same. Little Edna went too but the family gave mum her tray on wheels so now instead of the girls carrying all her craft stuff from room to room, they can wheel it. It doesn't seem to worry mum, she's too busy thinking of the outing to the Cranbourne gardens on the 22nd.
And the BrickOutHouse is in trouble with his health. The chiropractor put back the two vertebrae that were out but there is a problem with his hip, leg bones and toes joints all down the left leg. So blood tests yesterday and a catscan on Thursday. He is hunched over like an old man and in real pain but the cortisone might help that and finding out exactly what is wrong will help a lot more.
I'm not his mother but I did bring him up until he went to high school so I still worry. He shouldered his share of the nightmare four years with mum and he hasn't really had enough downtime to put it in perspective. If he's got an early appointment, he camps out on the sofa bed with the cat and sleeps like a log. I had more medical drama with him over the years than I did with my own kid and I never stop worrying about him because like all men, he's as stubborn as a mule about seeing a doctor until he's got one foot in the grave.
I was meant to be thin, beautiful, rich with no kids but instead I was born worrying about what was ahead of me. Perhaps it was better in the old days when the family ran into the double figures and no-one could keep track of who was ill or injured until they were on the way back to health.