smokingboot

A mildly difficult day yesterday turned into a very difficult one and stayed that way. Bro is in deep trouble, and now that I am past operations, got round to telling me about it.

The issues are so deep, I think they must stay in locked posts.

He drives me crazy, but he is also a sweet gentle man underneath this armour of horrible junk, and the best thing he could do to protect himself now would be to give me power of attorney, because I am not gentle and sweet and can do Queen of Swords just as easily as Queen of Cups. I have no particular administrative abilities but, for all my bat-headedness, mine is a drive towards life and right now his is not.

I haven't made this suggestion to him because he'll recoil. Instead I make suggestions he resists, all part of the pattern; this spiral downwards requires a certain willing helplessness, reasons for passivity that are evidently bogus when you poke them.

He thinks I am brutal.

Anyway, after a day of near total dismay, R reminded me that this isn't my job, that I am supposed to be getting well and there is more to come re treatment. I have now, this time of healing between ops and radiotherapy, and he wants me to rest up.

I'll try. Ceilidh with mates this evening, bound to cheer me up, and this morning's sunrise was as red as a grapefruit. Maybe a sign of foul weather but worth it for the beauty.