My first thought this morning was about how much I desperately needed to go back to sleep. I wasn’t just a little bit tired either, I was bone-tired. My head sore and foggy, my eyes exhausted and refusing to work with me; every muscle tense. My mind wanders of it’s own  accord, worrying already. Dreading what the morning might bring. I’d just realised what day it was – Thursday,  so no regular carer.  Next thing I heard was a shrill  ‘buzzzzzz’. Slowly, clumsily I snatched at the reciever, mumbling ‘ hello’ as brightly as I could. An unfamiliar accent repeated my greeting. My head searched for a name to match. Eventually, the person appeared after shedding their outdoor things, and I relaxed a little when I saw who it was.

Things got off to a bumbling start. I continued to struggle to wake; blinking my eyes furiously, doing my best t issue instructions as to what was where and what needed doing. An hour and a half later, I was clean, and dressed, necessary medical things over for now too. I remember not feeling any let up in the exhaustion. If anything, it was worse. Double strength coffee,  white toast snd chocolate spread. I was interrupted mid-way through by another person; another medical procedure. My breakfast finished eventually, I was too exhausted to hear my phone beep. Eventually, woken by a call and the promise of a visit from two dear friends, I remember feeling heaps better after their visit. The rest of my morning passed insignificantly by. daytime telly with a story about a young lad with a rare condition, his constant companion a massive, but cute canine.

Eventually, the afternoon appeared, bringing with it a trip out in the sunshine with carer B. Yummy food, a walk, a nap. Only two hours left now. My head finally clearer, I’m off to work on something else, providing I don’t fall asleep first…