Morbid weekend

[tamaranth]

Back from another jolly weekend in Plymouth, during which we mainly discussed Death.
Sister -- who is firmly convinced that she will die before she's 60 (i.e. in the next 6 years) like our mother did, and who tends towards the 'death is a step forward, why mourn' view ad nauseum -- has had her world-view shaken up this week. Brother-in-law ended up as an emergency admission after some sort of cardiac incident which wasn't a heart attack, but which sounds extremely painful for him and terrifying for them both. It's scared him enough to stop him smoking: 20 a day to 0 a day without (he claims) withdrawal effects; and he's back to normal now, and was playing with his granddaughter as cheerfully as ever. Meanwhile, sister is wondering whether she will actually -- gasp -- outlive him.

And my father, or the husk of him, seems quite happy (though not because of anything in objective reality) and may well outlive them both.

My migraine arrived three days earlier than expected, but still roughly according to prediction. I managed to catch most of the headache by swift application of pink Migraleve, but there are times you just don't want your journey to be 90 minutes longer because of engineering work. I can't believe there are only two rail routes -- one of them single-track -- between Exeter and London ...

Have three-month record of Stuff for doctor. Now to get an appointment.

Comments

[lproven.livejournal.com]

My mum felt like that as well. Quite convinced she'd died at 55, 'cos of something a fortune-teller told her long ago. Her 56th birthday came as a considerable surprise to her, but she became quite enthusiastic about still being alive for the next 5-6y or so. Quit smoking, started exercising, all sorts...