Yesterday, I was feeling sorry for myself. Today, I was feeling shit, literally and figuratively. Doubtless millions of people wake up every day with exploding bot-bots and manage not to work themselves into hysteria. I'm not one of those people. For those playing along at home, my liver is in meltdown due to an ulcerative colitis drug, the hardcore one. The war to keep that little nasty at bay now has one serious weapon less available in its arsenal. So while a bad belly probably means nothing, I managed to build it up to a great big something. I made myself feel sick. I was already feeling sick. I went to sleep for several hours. I rang my mother. I slept for more hours. I went to visit my mother because even at my age a girl sometimes needs her mum. A late afternoon visit to Mum's always means popping next door with the dogs to watch the lorikeet feeding ritual. Who wouldn't love watching those birds in a feeding frenzy? My dogs certainly do. They have no hope of ever getting anywhere near a bird but they love charging around the back garden giving it a red hot go. And I love sitting on the grass in the afternoon sun watching them. It lifted my spirits enormously. I went home and found an orchid on my front steps left by a work colleague. Spirits lifted some more. And then MY BROTHER texted me to see how I was going. My sisters have already been in touch. That's what sisters do but my brother?! Michael and I have always been close but he's not the reach out type. Sure there was almost certainly a prompt from Mum but the concern was genuine. His texts made me laugh. Laughing is good. And my husband is home from Sydney. I put on a pair of my new Peter Alexander PJs and went back to bed feeling more at peace with the world.
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