I suppose I might feel a little gloomy today.
It's raining.
It's two months on, or thereabouts, from The Old Man's heart surgery.
And it's sinking in that he has nowhere near the fitness - on at least one level - that he had before the operation. I'm not sure when he will be able to do the walking that he used to do. The two mile round trip to get his papers from the shop on the next village, for instance.
Upping and downing, carrying much, walking slopes. All whack him out at the moment. If they are within reach at all.
And sometimes I wonder (as I guess does he) what the op was for. But I suppose it had got to the point of not much option.
All of that optimistic crapola from medics and encouragers. Set against our constant repetition of his past medical history and possible complications. The neglect of our warnings. The subsequent cardiac arrest and intensive care. The demonstrable drop in the functioning of his heart after that - maybe as a consequence.
Yes, the heart nurse said that it can get better - (but could take 6 or 7 months).
And sometimes The Old Man wonders if it is his heart's fitness that is to blame, or the new drugs that he has been prescribed.
So today ..... I feel gloomy.
And angry.
And probably self-pitying.
What the hell.
I can't be entertaining all of the time.
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