Asking For Help

The first 'Tequila Sunrise' rose bud and bug in the garden. I can't write those words without remembering The Eagles song of the same name and all those memories it evokes..

And full blown perfumed roses flinging themselves off the fence on their long waving  stems.

Nameless roses  - as they were  already well established  when we moved to this house and garden - 13 years ago this month.

This morning, as the cleaner isn't coming till 11am, I steal the last luxury of staying in bed later than usual and listen to Matt Kahn's UTube video. Another luxury ( which is really a necessity), that  I've abandoned in the last few weeks as I've slipped into the habit of hurtling straight into the busyness of my day, determined to get myself up and dressed before I need to help Robin do the same....never quite sure when that will be.

Matt says exactly what I want to hear this morning.  The core spiritual concept -  Admit that you don't know how to do it and call on The Universe/God for help. Trying to do it on your own is just ego madness. 

It means you still make the same decisions but without being stressed and exhausted in the process.

I ask for help about all these tricky forms I have to fill in for Robin's benefits. Then I read  through them, write a couple of emails and stop worrying. Much later this evening I get a reply to one of the emails form the nice woman at the CAB who has been marvellous to us over the years, who says yes to my request for help. Not exactly when I need it but that can be sorted.

Robin is waiting for me in the corridor when I arrive at the hospital to pick him up. He hasn't slept. He has the beginnings of a bristly grey beard and has lost weight.  His right hand and lower arm are very swollen. I'm afraid he's dehydrated as I know he's hardly drunk anything in the last few days. He wants to go for drive even before we go home. I suggest Killerton House and a cup of tea.

It's a beautiful warm May afternoon...everything is green and white - white lilac candles, white  hawthorne blossom,  clouds of white cow parsley all along the lanes. We drive with the windows open and whoosh away the claustrophobic smell of hospital.

Back home Robin sleeps. I have to help him get out of bed - I watched the physiotherapist do it earlier.....later I give him a shower.....feed him a few mouthfuls of supper which takes a long time now, and he goes upstairs. But he can't press the light switch on in his office or press the button to turn his computer on, or turn the handle of the bedroom door. He could do all those things before he went into hospital. It may just be the effect of the treatment weakening his hands initially.

I need to ask for help with this one.