What do you do when there’s nothing left to do, and nothing that anyone else can do to help you? That’s what I’ve been wondering to myself for the past couple of months and I’ve came to the conclusion that you don’t do anything at all; simply because you can’t. So nothing changes, you take each day as it comes and you wait for the inevitable. Every day passes in the same monotonous way: Wake up, feed Isla, carer comes, feed Isla, carer comes, get Isla from afternoon nap, feed Isla, keep Isla entertained, feed Isla tea, give Isla bottle, carer comes, Isla in bed, carer comes.
It’s been really odd, having carers in. I can’t stand asking for help and admittedly it’s something that I’m still getting my head around and struggling to accept. It’s not that I find it shameful or embarrassing, I guess it’s just because I’m younger than most with carers and it also means me having to accept that I wasn’t managing as well as I tried to convince myself that I was. Admitting I’m not stronger than my physical decline and that no matter how headstrong I’ve tried to be; there’s no denying the evident decline and the rapidity of it all.
This was originally going to be a big long ramble of a blog post, but I’ve completely lost where I was going with all of this so instead I’m going to get wine and I shall leave it on this note...
Don’t bury your head in the sand because like it or not, if shit’s gonna happen then it’s gonna happen regardless. Life’s a bitch and all that!
PS - sorry for the arsey post. No point in sugarcoating anything though, that’s not why I do this.
- (pissed off and miserable) Keeley. x
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