The Ache

No blood results for me this morning...which was probably just as well, given that we ate Indian, and late, and lots.
Blood has been a theme of the day though - first thing, we took my dad up to the hospital to get his three pints on blood transfused. In previous years, this would have been all the excuse we needed for Tony Hancock "that's very nearly three armfuls" jokes (It's a Brit thing, don't worry if you don't get it...), but today he looked pale (which of course is what anaemia will do for you), and frail, which is what chronic lymphotic leukaemia will do for you, so the jokes didn't work.

It was Ma's birthday today - hence yesterday's delicious Indianfest - so when we left dad, all plugged in like a lonely Borg, the day was about celebrating the wonder that is her...except of course, it was a very muted day, because our thoughts were constantly sliding away sideways into silent moments, thinking of the three pints of warm red life-juice going into my dad...

Didn't really want to come away from her place today, if I'm honest. Yeah, I know, it's a Disappearing disaster, cos there's no exercise and not only plenty of food but the culture of feeding that is the hallmark of any Valleys mother (or indeed any mother generally, in all likelihood). But the pull of the place right now is...not exactly morbid, more sort of achy. You know how, when you're a teenager, and you fall in love with someone who doesn't know you exist, and all you really want to do is be around them in case some chance occurs to be of some service to them? Just to ease their way or help a smile to their face, or give them an answer that no-one else can give them, or...something?

That's kind of how I feel right now about being near my dad. Chances are I'm bloody useless to him in all honesty, but missing the chance to ease his day a little goes against the grain. Still, Ma told us to go home and 'have our time' - which, I'm not too full of myself to know also means 'let them have their time' - and get on with the business of our life...which in practical terms means eating tonight, and getting up at meh-o'clock tomorrow for aquacising, and going almost straight to gym after that...after pretty much a week off. S'gonna kill us, probably. And still, as we swimacise, and as we gymercise, and bitch and sweat and whinge, really, we won't be there. We'll be back at the folks' place, thinking about how to maybe ease their way a little, in aching need to pull a little pain or stress out of their way.