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After all that, Mother Dearest is refusing to be moved. Because the doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her, nor why was admitted [that’s what happens when you are merely dumped at the casualty], they had to run a battery of tests which meant a lot of prodding and poking to one very uncomfortable woman.

She reckons that by moving to the private wing, she will not only have to be physically moved – action which is too painful for you – but she cannot bear the thought of more needles. [they couldn’t find any veins in her arms or hands, and she is badly bruised all over from their efforts.]

Mother Dearest if comfortable insofar as that she is mostly left alone, which is as she likes it. Most of us would be screaming blue murder at the lack of attention provided in a government hospital, but MD is relieved that she can sleep most of the day and night without interruption and shock of all shocks … she is eating the food, even stating that it’s better than the gruel they feed her at home.

She is also on a drip as she was severely dehydrated and malnourished on arrival; however is showing slow improvement and is relatively happy where she is. Certainly happier than at the home. Which is quite a scary thought.

As for me, I am emotionally and physically drained after the last week. Between Lady Tubbington’s demise and Mother Dearests decline and getting lost and found in the hospital …

And my pal Sal is at it again. Kevin is refusing to speak to her, and literally offers wordless grunts when she calls, before handing the phone to Kayla. And because Kevin won’t respond to her, she tells Kayla to tell him [in my presence] that she loves him.

When Kevin asked Kayla why she does that, she told him that her mother wouldn’t get off the phone until she did, and she knows that it irritates him, but that’s why her mother is doing it.

Well, it irritates me too. Highly. I’m not at all concerned about Kevin, I know exactly where his heart lies, but it pisses me off that she is now using her daughter [who incidentally I am raising because partying and drugs are more of a priority for her] to attempt to drive a wedge in our family.

Just go back to your toyboy, have another line and leave us alone now.

Harsh, but seriously! She earns a good salary [more than me] yet refuses to pay maintenance – pleading poverty. Well at R500/g I can believe that; but worse than neglecting to help financially is her dereliction in motherly duties.

Not that I mind, but it has been left to me to have the birds and the bees talk, and other womanly discussions with K. Even though she is only six months older than Angel, she is physically and emotionally years ahead. K has had to grow up very quickly for a girl her age and has all but lost her innocent childhood.

*sigh*

Speaking of Angel, it was her 13th birthday yesterday. I just don’t know where the time has gone! We were looking at photo’s of her last night in the incubator and even Kevin couldn’t believe how tiny she was. My baba was only 1,9kg’s and was a skinny little mite. Now I look at the beautiful girl she has blossomed into, and it’s difficult to reconcile the sights!

She had The Best Birthday Ever [her words], which started with a very early morning wake-up with Star and I singing Happy Birthday with armfuls of pressies to wake her.  She received everything she had asked for and more, and so was over the moon with all the spoiling.

And the cherry on top was the boy from Scouts, whom she has a crush on, sending her the first birthday text of the day. Madam was grinning from ear to ear that he had remembered her special day. It was bitter sweet for her mama though, as I’m thrilled that she was happy with the attention, but I am NOT ready for her to have a boyfriend!

We couldn’t go out for dinner as both the girls are in the middle of exams, and so when Kevin found out that ribs are madam’s favourite food [and noting that I only ever cook chicken] he went to one of the butcheries he services and bought what looked like the entire torso of a pig!

I managed to find the suitable sticky sauce marinade, and Kevin made what the kids said was the best ribs they’d ever tasted. I don’t eat pork, but even I couldn’t resister a rib or two. Or three. The meat fell off the bone in such juicy tender sweet chunks that it was worth the pain I went through in the night when my IBS played up.

But all the weariness and stress I feel so overwhelmed by is immediately lightened when I receive an email:

Hello my love

You have been sending me some really strong words today, all I can say is that all that you have said, is that I feel the same way you feel in every way.

It is so overwhelming that I have you in my life… the fact that I woke up holding you in my arms feeling that this was the best place in the world, the warmth the love I have for you, the future we have together *sigh* [I wonder where he learnt that little TM item from? *grin*]

The fact that we all had such a good chat with kids, you doing my daughters hair, what more can a man ask for from his loving wife

I love you…

~ ♥ ~

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