I need to offload my frustrations somewhere so this might as well be place. I suppose what I really want to say is that it's not fair - none of this. It's not fair on Ross, it's not fair on me and it's not fair on us.
It's horrible watching Ross dwindle. OK, I know he's not going to die and he's not in crippling pain but he's diminished, lacking in energy, sleeping long hours, his joints and muscles ache. If he has a good day and does anything then the following day he'll be completely wiped out. He's worried about his course, though he is managing some work at home and is doing a lot of necessary reading. He just about makes it into College once a week for a lecture after which he collapses feeling absolutely poisoned in his system.
I've gone into worry overdrive, of course, and I guess I'm in danger of making myself unwell if I don't get a handle on it pretty quickly. I'm tearful because of the way things have turned out. We were tentatively talking about medium term prospects concerning our future together - like living together somewhere out side of London when he finishes College. Now that just seems a long way away.
And, of course, I can't avoid some of the feelings relating back three years to David's illness. Come to think of it, it was all this time of the year when it was happening, the turn of the seasons mirroring the downturn in his health and fortunes. I lie awake at nights, listening to Ross's breathing patterns, re-visiting some of those awful months (whether I want to or no), feeling the tension quivering in my frame.
We're still cheerful. We giggle a lot. Talk seriously a little. Try to get a handle on what is happening. I'm trying my best not to impose solutions as I have done in previous times. I'm trying to give Ross enough space to work out what's best for him.
We've searched the Web. If you are interested, here's a few pointers. Any other info, gratefully received.