I have been having a pretty tough time lately.  As much as I tried not to over do, it doesn’t take much for me to do that!  The fatigue is ever present and my Myofascial Pain and Costochondritis have started to flare, along with increased joint pain.

Christmas was at my house thankfully.  I could not shower or get out of my pajamas. My mother stayed with me for a few days and my brother and his wife were over Christmas Day and they helped out.  I stayed in a recliner with a blanket wrapped around me.  I hadn’t felt that sick in a long time.

My mother left today.  We got along well, but had a tiff over the phone when she called me to let me know she had arrived home safely by bus and train.

The reason my mother left early is because she wanted to rest tomorrow so she could be ready for work on Friday.  Except, my mother doesn’t work, she volunteers, at a rest home, which is kind of ironic since she’s almost there herself.  (I know that’s mean but I’m angry here) I have asked her many times not to refer to this as work.  She doesn’t get paid, she won’t get fired for not coming in, and if she got too sick she just wouldn’t volunteer any more and this would not affect her income.

It is insulting to me, because my husband and I really can’t work and we are in severe financial trouble because of it.

So on our phone conversation, she mentioned it again and we had the same argument.  “These people need me”, she said.  “Mom, I need you, I’m very sick and so is my husband.  You are volunteering HERE!”

“I’m sicker than these people”, I continued.  “Oh, I don’t think so”, she said.  “Mom, they’re just old!  They are not sick!”  And even if they are, it’s the normal order of things.  Sick and old go together.  People sick in their teens, 20s, 30s and 40s (all me, throughout my teen years and increasingly worse, and others like me) is not.

I dropped it.  She is never going to get it.  Tonight I can hardly stand and we will probably have to order out, again, which is something we can’t afford.

Thank God for my beautiful son who makes going on worthwhile.  He is more sympathetic and compassionate than my own mother.  If only he could cook.