I woke up to a message from Clare to say she'd landed and all was well. Using the polar route, the 'plane wasn't fighting strong headwinds. In fact, it touched down fifteen minutes early. She'll need to sleep to recover from the eleven hour flight, so we'll probably talk tomorrow afternoon.
Being at home alone takes some getting used to, even though I'm used to keeping my own company when working abroad. I guess I feel much more vulnerable after a year of coping with this wound. I had such marvellous support from Clare in the early months of recovery when I was ill and weak, traumatized by delays, misinformation or no information about appointments, feeling trapped and not knowing which way to turn. I'm fit and well now, enough for us both to feel OK about a two week separation. A kind of practice for me resuming locum duties. That sense of vulnerability I find hasn't gone away, with the treatment still incomplete, uncertain and delayed.
If I need help it's never far away, but being on my own and encountering all sorts of minor everyday frustrations makes me realise that I have to fight to regain as much confidence and self-control as is possible when I am still dependent upon our medical overlords to finish the job. Learning how to cope without getting angry with myself and my situation I find very hard. Thank heavens for routine and structure - shopping, daily walk, prayer, creative writing, and occasionally watchable telly. It's harder to give time to journey planning as this step away from routine arouses anxiety, I find. I just have to summon the courage to resume doing things I used to do easily.
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