I am in bed, having my morning cuppa and read that the Government are commissioning a special flotilla of boats to ensure that vital supplies reach us in the event of a No Deal. Apparently, according to Peston on Twitter the cabinet ministers are shocked. (I hear a collective dry of “WHY ARE THEY SHOCKED?” from those of us who have bothered to keep informed over the last few months).
Another, quite low key article, from pharmaceutical companies recommending individuals stock pile medicines. I am thinking “how the F*** are we supposed to do that if the meds are on prescription?”
Lean back, take another sip. What to do? My heart rate has gone up and my eyes are stinging. I think of the loved ones in my life who need medication on a daily basis. I’d better tell my husband to get onto the doctor.
My mum is in a care home. She has dementia. I am her LPOA. I have to do something to help protect her.
I plan to write to her care home and doctor asking about contingency plans and how do I, as her LPOA personally stock pile her meds – can that even be done legally?
Husband comes in, he is worried about business and Brexit – we are seeing the effects first hand now.
Heart rate is up again. How can anyone just get on with their day and post pictures of dogs and children on facebook? I write a bolshy facebook post “I hope the People on Here who say nothing about Brexit are doing so out of fear/ apathy and not bcs they really think it will be OK”
This sparks some interesting conversation and relieves some of the pressure.
I give myself a list: Write letters; Write Blog Posts; Go Shopping and See Mum.
The only time I feel really normal is when I am with my Mum because the only way to connect with her is to be entirely in the moment. My mum has always been a huge gift to me. She still is.
The New Normal.