Well hello 2021. Mr. H and I saw in the new year the way we always do, in bed, sleeping. Real Love. That’s what we have, real love. Not fancy, not glamorous. Just real. The UK is locked down again. Not surprising for most of us and yet despite all the restrictions and warnings from the NHS that it is overwhelmed there were still people selfish enough to protest outside a leading hospital, without masks or following social distancing rules, saying covid is a hoax. Well I say lucky them, that their lives have not been touched, lucky them, that they have not lost loved ones. I hope they do not need treatment from the NHS for the virus themselves because if it were up to me I would be very tempted to deny them treatment, after all if it isn’t that serious and doesn’t exist, they won’t need it right? Idiots! Selfish, selfish idiots! Oh, and it’s cold, we have had snow, and my cats are not fans. Come to think of it neither am I.
Updates on Life.
Our son J lost his job the week before Christmas – thank you Asda. No notice, just half way through his shift told that it was his last. The store manager has yet to reply to his email asking for confirmation and his exit documents so he can claim job seekers benefits while he looks for another job. Of course this will be so easy in the middle of a lock down!
Mr. H is still working from home, thank goodness. I am terrified of him becoming ill with Covid. I rely on him so much I do not know how I would manage without him.
Our wedding was a civil service and we were not allowed to use ‘In Sickness and Health’ as part of our vows, but Mr. H will often quote this to me when I am feeling low about how much he has to care for me. It isn’t what I envisioned for our lives together, him helping me to dress, helping me to shower, shaving my legs for me. Is it any wonder our sex life is diminished? I am no longer a sexy wife, I am an object to care for, another job to do, a task that needs to be added to a long list of responsibilities. Mr. H is so tired. I see new lines on his face, worries and exhaustion combined. I want to take those worries away but I have no way to do so.
I know Mr. H will read this and he will say he doesn’t mind. He loves me. This I guess is real love. Not the flashy romantic, dozen roses on valentine, expensive gifts and surprise holidays. Anyone can spend money. Not everyone has the wherewithall and gumption to take care of another person, without complaint or hesitation.
He takes on the world and fights for me. When I don’t have the energy to fight on, he picks me up and carries on the fight for me. The wider impact of covid 19 has put such delays on the NHS services that the pain specialist I have been referred to has a minimum of 25 weeks waiting list, and the longer services are diverted to fight covid and clinics put on hold the longer that will be. 25 Weeks. Half a year.
I can’t get physiotherapy from the standard services because they want the pain specialist to organise this.
All this time, he will care for me and love me. That’s real love.
This post is linked to Wicked Wednesday #449 ‘Looking forward to 2021’ and Monochromerotic #24. Pease click HERE to visit the Wicked Wednesday prompt page where you will find many posts well worth reading, and HERE for Monochromerotic #24 where you will find, not only delightful images to vote for, but the posts to which they belong for you to read