Zig is asleep, having spent the day being poisoned, voluntarily, for her own eventual benefit. I feel drained myself, but please don’t think that I’m complaining in the least. If anything, I’m humbled by the cheerfulness of the people who were in hospital receiving chemotherapy and the nurses taking care of them. Zig has bravely completed five out of six sessions and we’ve been through the long list of drugs that she has to take daily and that I’ll be giving her for the next few days. It’s a responsibility I’m anxious about, but I’ve written everything down and will make sure I get it right.
I expect I will take this post down in the next few days, it’s not for me to write about, as a short-term observer of people with cancer. They were all so damn patient and cheerful and matter of fact, it really does make one aware of the small things one grumbles about, sometimes. Actually, I find I can’t write about it anyway.
ive been writing about myself today. Where’s the difference? I hear you ask? It’s been factual, darlings, not me wittering on. Governors now have to write about themselves, and publish it. On the school website is fine – anyway, it seems to have been agreed that I’ll do me and that’ll give the idea to the others what to put. I went down the factual route: my positions on the governing body, my ‘interest’ in a commercial/political/family sense (Dilly teaches at the school), the committees I’m on, that sort of thing, plus a brief personal statement, which I’ll probably tweak before sending it in. Since I’ll be starting up in business again, in a small way, I probably should consider what, if anything, I’m going to say about it.
I do not think that someone in his right mind would think of you as complaining.
Good luck to all.
When we complain, it’s so often about relative trivialities. I woke Zig up to give her her pills, I hope she will sleep well tonight. I, having spent the evening on red wine and black coffee, should sleep soundly.
You are stoic and brave, not a complainer. What business are you thinking of starting up?
I’m not brave, but I’d be ashamed to grumble about my little bothers. When I’m unhappy, it’s to be expected and I wait until I feel better.
You’re like a busy little stream…you bubble over all manner of pebbles and gracefully swirl around the uglier rocks that get in your way.
Oh Di, how neat, and how kind.