When your body says you're sick, LISTEN

Gorgeous vase by Jay Strongwater but I don't like the colour, picky but one in the palest pink would suit me more.  And that's as far as I got for this post and now on the 1st of April I feel like blogging again.  I was so ill I couldn't leave the house for 4 weeks and Doc Marvin came 3 times.  I don't think I've ever coughed so much in my life and the squeaking, wheezing and whistling in my chest drove me crazy.
I couldn't even go to the Cemetary to bury Mum's ashes but the girls came and picked up the box and sent photographs. I really wanted that day as it was 14th February, St. Valentine's Day and it was a beautiful sunny day for mum and dad to be re-united.  After that I really fell in a heap.  Lying down to sleep was near impossible so I slept wherever I could.  It wasn't unusual to wake up with a cup of tea still in one hand and a sandwich in the other or a lemonade icy pole, lovely cold icy pole.
For the first week I was on Solone to get the fluid out of my lungs.  Pharmacy could have put a warning on the box not to take the first ones at night. Up, down, up, down, and everytime I sat up, cough cough cough, pee and repeat.  I ended up putting a couple of towells at the edge of the bed because I'm not that good at cross legs and cough while standing up. It was a bacterial infection in the lungs and lingered on although I didn't feel really sick just so tired I couldn't think or remember what day it was.
The Bear was worried until he worked out I was okay to feed him and then he got sneaky. I'd be heading for the back door to shut it and he would shoot out knowing I couldn't follow but I can't blame him as it was one of those horrible hot weeks.  Karma got him in the end.  Whatever time I woke up, the cough would start so I'd be up for pills and a cuppa, turn on the news after filling his dish.  No Bear appeared and after an hour I really worried. I vaguely remember hearing a faint miouw but I slipped into sleep, so it wasn't a screaming, raging cat fight.  So sick mummy staggered round the yard, went out to check the street for a body, nothing.  Nephew rang to see if I wanted anything and was straight over to look for the precious.  As his car pulled up, the precious strolled out of my bedroom where he'd been hiding and threw his paws round Steve''s leg. You could almost hear the sobbing story of what had happened to him during the night. Never mind me! He had one huge hole in his ear and one large scratch on his shoulder, nothing else except PTSD.
It doesn't end there.  I couldn't figure what was floating around the apple tree until it hit the concrete.  I went out with a stick to poke at it and so help me it was the black fluffy end of a possum's tail, bitten straight through. I'm still trying to work out who got to who first. No wonder he wouldn't come out of the wardrobe and the hole in the ear won't come together to heal, too big and I have threatened to put his registration tag in it.
I must thank "Paws and Whiskers" pet shop who delivered his kibble when I was too ill to go out.
Last week I was well enough to go and get litres of blood taken, a chest X-ray and a CT scan of my heart.  They gave me a dvd of the scan but the Doc is taking a well-earned holiday so I'll see him eventually.  The X-ray showed the heart was the right size but the CT scan was needed to show the tissue or whatever was around it. He said my sugar was up but what can you do when living on lemonade icy poles.
Mum's stuff is still in a pile in the lounge but I am gradually getting it down. My things are going as well, I'm doing that Japanese Lady's method of throwing out, you look at ornament, book or whatever and say, "do you make me happy?" and if it's no then it's gone.  So instead of space I have two huge boxes full of unhappiness.  Next up is the Queen Ann crystal cabinet, going into the sewing room which will involve a bit of shuffling in there but honestly I can't stand the cigarette smell, 40 years of cigarette smoke have been embedded in the wood.
I plan to put quilting fabric in it as fabric can be washed and I can put huge bowls of potpourrie in the cabinet.
I even found a box of Christmas presents that I didn't send two Christmases ago. Not my fault, always there was a crisis near Christmas. Highriser, your present is next only because it's been sitting on the table for so long, the box has faded and looks like an op shop re-gift.
I hope it's not so long before I blog again.