A bit of me, sort of detached, observing the rest of me, is actually quite amused.
The rest of me is not frantically worried as the fatigue rather rules that out. Frantic worry would take resources I haven't got.
Impressive. Still waiting to hear from my occupational therapist, though I can't see what she will have to offer... A bite from a radioactive spider?
What sent me to bed for effectively all of today was news from my dad that mum had suddenly been taken seriously (but as it turned out, briefly) ill: unconscious, Dr had trouble finding a pulse or blood pressure, but by the time the ambulance had got her half-way to hospital she had completely recovered, and the hospital checks found nothing... That's good, at least, but from my end it showed all too well up how much energy emotions can eat up, and I have no reserves of energy to spare. Fifteen minutes after the Skype conversation going horizontal was compulsory.
It wasn't too good realising, while lying there, that in case of needing to get to France quickly I couldn't work out a viable method, currently, and I'd need a wheelchair once I got there in any case, with havoc that effort would wreak.
I knew I wasn't too good this time last year, but this is pointing up a marked degree of change.
Hmm. Reality being trumps, this once more is something to work with or around.
A teleporter for Christmas would be quite nice. Unlikely.
I may have to settle for a new bean bag. Or a foam floor so I can drop anywhere?