I Live Alone

3am. Couldn't sleep. The  white light of the 

not-quite-full moon flooding the stairs, pulled me outside into the cold quiet garden.

And I noticed other lights on in windows across the street. Other 3am insomniacs. I wondered if Robin was still awake.

He was very tired this morning when the hospice care nurse came to visit with her nice colleague who is going to be our contact now that Robin has moved across the river. When they left he let me feed him his breakfast banana and yoghurt and then I got him back to bed. It was still only 10.30am.

I sat in the big riser recliner chair loaned to us by the MND society and watched him fall asleep. And waited for the doctor to do his rounds. Robin didn't wake up even though the cleaner was hoovering the corridor, there were 2 visiting dogs who barked a lot, the carers were talking outside and there were the constant quite disturbing cries - a bit like a mewling cat - of one of the residents in the dementia section.

When the doctor came he basically said there was nothing to be done about any of Robin's symptoms - keep encouraging him to eat and drink, he doesn't really need to use the cough assist machine or the bi-pap machine if he is refusing them  - better not to stress him. And it's OK if he sleeps a lot. He didn't say anything about the constipation.

Later I took Robin for a short drive. Both his afternoon and evening visitors said he was much more alert and cheerful when they took him out for drives. I think as he doesn't sleep much at night he needs to catch up with it in the mornings. But then he has always been an owl and not a lark.  I find I am both now.

 Even though it has been in the diary for ages, this afternoon I forgot that I had a massage booked at the Hospicecare centre. They offer complementary sessions for the relatives of people with terminal illness. I remembered just in time not to be late. I really need a deep tissue massage to uniwnd the knots and tension in my shoulders and lower back but that isn't what they do there, and I ended up falling asleep on the couch while the lovely therapist gently rubbed my back with sweet perfumed oils.

I asked her if I snored but she just laughed. Which means I did.

Tonight I cooked up more comfort - a version of a brown rice risotto using stock and coconut milk instead of wine, with loads of fresh coriander, broccoli florets and a smoked salmon fillet stirred in at the end.

 I ate it, very slowly, in my birthday lily perfumed kitchen....thinking about solitude and aloneness and loneliness. I  know I don't feel lonely. And I know I'm not alone. But now I live alone with as much solitude as I allow myself. A bit like trying out the food of another country's cuisine.... not quite sure which flavours I like yet.....or what's the best portion size.