Feeling a bit perkier now, after another very low start to the day. Sobbing in the shed over my first fag, without really knowing why, except I hurt. Couldn't get myself up and dressed to go to singing, which I fucking love, so eventually forced myself to phone my pal SB (just realised we have forty years of friendship under our belts), who listened and let me ramble on about how hard it's been, then I listened while she had her turn and then I made myself go out into the world and ach, it was OK.

Saw Sis and the babies, delivered her twins' birthday cards, only three days late, bought frames for two of the photos of ED as she was, and some hake for my dinner and a pair of Black Watch tartan men's pyjamas to see me through the cold winter months. Rock and roll.

Keeled over a bit later as several people posted a story about a woman who has MS, thought she'd been exposed to HIV and within days of taking the antiretroviral drugs (to prevent HIV developing into AIDS), was able to get up out of her wheelchair and walk. It's the flicker of killer hope that does for me - that flash of possibility of a competent, mobile, adult daughter, picking up her life again and LIVING, but it's a long shot. They're doing trials to see if it replicates and if it does and gets the go-ahead, then, and only then it may be possible for ED. She has no capacity to give consent for drug trials, and they take years and she may not have years, so there it comes, like a bird of hope, out of the cage and airborne, but no, shot down before she's even opened her wings fully. So meh. Maybe, maybe more for H, but Meh.

I am grateful for: emerging a bit from the gloms; also YD who phoned, a bit chatty, less monosyllabic; a tidy bedroom, a to do list, which I am making myself work though. yesterday the bedroom, today the three expired tomato plants, out into the compost.

Still pushing on through. Saw a good thing about grief that said you don't get over it, you learn to carry it. Most of the time.

Laters xxx