The Lady in the Back Row

Back to work today.

School’s back. Routine returns.

The past couple of weeks have been full, preparing, organising, holding everything together.

And I’ve been sitting with a thought: I’m not saying being single is better, and I know a good, supportive relationship should make life easier. But in my experience, it hasn’t worked that way.

So today, I’m okay with where I am. My capacity is already stretched, and right now, it feels steadier to stand on my own.

Preparation helps.

Routine helps. Keeping things moving, even when it’s a lot.

And the small things, they matter more than ever.

Glad for them.

Today I am grateful.

Grateful for everything.

Grateful for my grandchildren, for where we live, and for the life we have here in Australia.

Sometimes in the middle of everything, it is easy to forget just how much there is to be thankful for.

Life has not been easy, and hospital has become far too familiar.

Eleven admissions since 2024 is more than enough, and I am quietly hoping this time will be the one that finally helps.

Today is not a quiet day.

It is one of those ordinary life days mowing the lawn, fixing a few things around the house, and getting school bags and work things ready for tomorrow.

Even in the middle of all of that, I am still grateful.

And still hoping this time is the turning point.

A slow, easy start.

No rush, no urgency, just letting the morning unfold as it wants to.

The kind of quiet that only seems to land properly on a Saturday.

I’m looking ahead to the week, not in a big overwhelming way, just small pieces.

House things. Hospital things.

Food, clothing, the usual organising that keeps everything moving.

Bits and pieces that don’t look like much on their own but somehow make up the whole structure of the days.

The work is constant.

Never done. Never done. Never done.

It loops in the background, part of life now.

But this morning, I’m not fighting it. Just letting it sit there while I take things slowly.

There’s something steady about easing into the day like this.

No pressure to fix everything at once. Just one thing, then another, when I’m ready.

For now, it’s Saturday.

And that’s enough.

Preparing for a return to work on Monday and have requested a flexible schedule to help manage school transport.

Planning to take the kids swimming later, picking up my granddaughter’s best friend and her brother as well, will be a fun outing.

I have also sent off an advocacy email providing feedback on our experience with mental health services, something that I felt needed to be done.

Hoping new medication starts today.

First stop is an eye appointment with my granddaughter.

It has been good to get important things sorted over the past few weeks.

Heading into the next few days feeling more organised and cautiously positive about what is ahead.

I went out to check the second lot of peas this morning, the ones I covered properly this time.

Not one left.

No snail trails, no scraps.

Just gone.

Birds, most likely. It’s frustrating doing everything right and still ending up with nothing.

Feels like a bit of a theme at the moment.

Hospital is back in our day again, threading through everything.

You don’t separate it out, you just work around it.

At the same time, I’m trying to keep things normal for the kids.

My granddaughter has a friend over today, and tomorrow I’m taking a couple of them swimming. Simple things, but they matter.

In between, I’m thinking about next week , school, work, what comes next.

Always that balance between now and what’s ahead.

I keep coming back to this: the system isn’t built for people who can’t advocate for themselves.

If no one’s there to push, follow up, and notice what’s missing, to advocate with a loud voice, then things fall through, I see a world where people are just ticking a box to the detriment of the patient.

Then you look at an empty garden bed… and start again.

Six days, no food.

Conversations with doctors last time saying she wouldn’t be admitted again, that the appropriate medication would be sorted.

Promises, then nothing.

So here we are, going back to ER again today.

Yesterday, though, I stayed home. Worked in the garden.

It’s not perfect, but it’s better than it was.

I got through the tasks that needed doing, and for a moment there was a real sense of accomplishment.

Holding onto that, even as everything else pulls me back.

No sleep last night.

Just me, my phone, a bit of Netflix, and a head that wouldn’t switch off.

One thing after another, work next week, kids going back to school, an unwell child, everything lining up at once.

Morning still comes though.

So today’s not about being amazing. It’s about getting through what needs to get done, kids sorted, bits around the house, following through on plans I made when I had more energy.

Trying to be normal.

Trying to keep things steady.

Running on empty, but still moving.

That’s enough for today.

Today was one of those simple but productive days.

We were up early for dental and doctor’s appointments, ticking off the things that need to get done. Spent some time at home getting on top of jobs, then went for a bit of a drive and had a look through a few op shops, looking for a good blanket for the dog 🐕

Came home, cooked dinner, and called it a day.

Nothing fancy, just getting organised, getting things sorted, and getting ready for next week with work starting again and school going back.

Sometimes those steady, practical days are exactly what’s needed.

Another week of leave ahead.

Joy, peace, and proper rest.

Had a crack at leveling the pavers not my finest work, but a little bit better than before.

Now I’ve got mounds of dirt everywhere and no real plan for it yet… but that can wait.

No rushing, no pressure.

A bit of pottering, a bit of TV, something to eat, and maybe an afternoon nap thrown in for good measure.

This week isn’t about doing everything… it’s about doing enough, slowly, and being okay with that.

A cold, windy autumn day.

The kind that gets into your bones and makes everything feel a bit harder than it should.

Yesterday I dug up a heap of dirt, a job that turned into many and now it’s sitting, waiting.

Like everything else.

There’s always something around the house.

You clear one thing, and three more appear.

It never really ends.

And in the middle of that, still waiting.

Discharged, but not better.

Just more waiting.

For results.

For the right medication.

For someone to properly connect the dots.

It’s an in-between space.

Not fixed. Not resolved. Just sitting in it.

So today isn’t about getting everything done.

Maybe it’s just about containing it.

Move the dirt into a pile.

Make it manageable.

Then step away.

Go for a drive.

Find somewhere to walk.

Let the cold air hit and clear the head for a bit.

The jobs will still be there.

But maybe I won’t feel so stuck in them.