It's not that I've been cranky, but certainly powerless.
Dad went into the hospital before a long weekend in Japan, and ended up staying in the ICU for a week because he couldn't breath. He's abandoned his lifelong creed that healthy (or ill) body comes from healthy (or ill) mind, and has switched to "pity me" mode this week. Mom is still holding on to the family tradition; we make light of ill health. I'm constantly trying to gauge where the truth lies.
We've had strong spring sea wind and our chimney became either skewed or loose; last week when we had very heavy rain, we actually had a leak; pot sitting on top of the wood burner, and us listening to the drip-drop while watching the telly. I was reminded of my parents' previous home where terracotta used to get shifted or blown away in typhoons some years and containers were placed all over upstairs and we fell asleep listening to the drip-drops in autumn typhoon season. Though I've been in touch with my chimney guy, he's so busy I may not be able to get him before we leave. Meanwhile, we continue to have heavy rain every three or so days.
My problems are trivial compared to real problems folks have. But sometimes my life plays out to me like a bad play - lots of little trials without much tribulations or redeeming denumount - yet not terrible enough one can recall how bad it was. Forgettable. My life and goals have gotten smaller.
I was right to see a doctor yesterday, even though my regular guy is away, and even though I wondered if I was being a bit alarmist. I think the locum was right in getting me back on mild meds, at least for the next short while. Life of a weaver in Nelson has got to be a bit more exciting, you know. Even with two tennis elbows.