People keep asking how I am getting on, which is kind and thoughtful, but I find I'm saying the same thing to everyone. I therefore am publishing a bulletin like a pregnant royal to announce the state of play of my body. As a measure of my improvement, I got out twice today! I have picked up the thread of work (happily I can work from home), and this afternoon I managed to sit through a presentation in Cambridge, between dashes to the loo. I am definitely gaining in strength, doing more and feeling less tired after being blasted by the radiotherapy, but I'm still very sore below, as though it has burnt everything in the area. My taste has altered too, and coffee tastes foul. I guess it will just need some time to heal now.
Illness certainly shows who one's friends are. Many people have rallied round, with offers of practical help as well as sympathy. Equally, we have discovered how incredibly cruel and nasty some people can be. At the first hint of disease, and with Ann in plaster from her fall last year, her sister slammed the phone down on her and said she didn't want any more contact. Her children have followed suit, so we have lost contact with the two great nephews. On my side, one of my children has refused to have anything to do with me, and sent not one word of concern or care. I still don't know what caused the rift, but as he ignored all my initial attempts to contact him, I will probably never know. Now, I just don't want to speak with him again either - thus does enmity grow.
In contrast, this morning we were invited for coffee to Robin and Yvonne's, a rare and welcome chance to get out and a change of scenery. Unfortunately, they too have some internal family difficulties, and they too won't discuss it. These family fallouts seem remarkably common - but what chance the world, when even kin hold rancour close.
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