Oh bloggin' hell.

Does that sound like swearing? It does, how marvellous because I feel like swearing with this blog lately, I sit and type and feeling satisfied with my post I hit 'publish post' and then every bloggin' time, this stupid internet goes pratty on me, we have super super broadband, supposedly, trouble is, with broadband you have to share it, the speed yesterday was something spectacularly cruddy like 45 something or other....should be 8000. Yes, we are officially slower than dial up but paying many times more.
The price for being in a town, with a gazillion other people who think they have important things to do online, they don't of course, nothing anyone wants to do is anywhere near as important as my blogging, looking up air fares to places in Canada and the US because I want to fly away and meet people I have never met and have some excitement and FUN ( canada in March is very cheap by the way, Florida in June? forget it.)
The wonderful thing about insomnia is that hoorah! Lines are free and I can actually check emails in less than 39 minutes, can look at blogs with pictures and even reply on message boards without losing the will to live.
I wrote the best ever blog yesterday, it was long and full of interesting facts, like H having a heart attack at dinner time, really I thought he did. He went grey, sweating, couldn't swallow or talk and the weirdest and most terrifying noise, like gurgling and gulping. I was the epitome of unfussy because that would have ensure his heart would explode, so I told him to sit quietly and asked in a round about way where I would find his heart spray should we need it, not that we do need it and does it hurt like when you had your heart attack and argh you look sort of sick and should I call someone, ambulance or Julie to sit with boys or an ambulance?
He was sort of OK within an hour or 3, with me not taking his pulse or checking that he was breathing. HE has a horrible cold and is clammy and stuffed up, but he is breathing and not grey anymore.
He is just such an private man, he hates fuss and he won't use 5 words if a grunt or nod will do.
We are not a smoochy couple, none of that gazing into each others eyes and proclaiming undying love, but I adore him and have no doubts that he thinks I am quite nice too.
I am so dependant on him for so much, I vowed I would never do that, didn't do it with the first one, don't feel like I rely on H really, but I do.
I need him purely because he makes me feel safe, not in a macho I'll get 'em for you way, but just because he is so incredibly calm always.
I am prone to run around with my fingers in my ears when stuff happens, kids fall over and there is blood and breath holding, I want to run for the hills, I do that useless sort of ARGH...HELP...UM......GET UP! ( very helpful, child falls down, is bleeding and wailing and on the floor, like yelling 'get up' will help!) I will pick up bleeding child and run around doing nothing but hyperventilate. H appears unruffled and just 'does,' This is why he has had a heart attack and I haven't I think.
He keeps the outside clear and calm and his heart is kabooming and squeezing the life out of itself.
I need him because when I ( not that I do anymore because I believe him now) whine and say that I hate myself and look, how ugly am I, blah blah, he never tries to say the right thing, he only ever says " I have no idea what you are saying"
He likes what he likes and there are no surprises, we can sit in the same room without saying a word all evening and it doesn't matter.
I lie in bed and listen to his snoring and I love it, not sawing logs, just a glorious gentle snore.
I look at him and my stomach flips, I love that on sunday, whether we go to church or not, he wears smart clothes and a white shirt because he wants to remember that it is sunday and he says wearing his dress trousers and shirt reminds him that he should behave with reverence, which he does always anyway. He is the most respectful man I have ever known and is a gentleman ( in the true sense of the word) I can't imagine life without him and if he weren't here the boys' lives would be so much poorer. My life would be emptier.
Being ill has made me see just how much I rely on him, more and more of late. When I came back from the doctors and saw the bed turned back, bedside light on and curtains drawn and knew that he was saying I could just go to bed, that meant the world to me. When we get back from church on sundays he keeps the boys entertained while I sleep, how pathetic that 3 hours at church, 1 hour of teaching 4 x 3 year olds wipes me out, every sunday I am more itchy and covered in welts than any other day, so I come home and sleep, for 3 hours usually. Never a word, never a sigh or a question, it just is the way it is.
He can be exasperating at times but I don't notice so much anymore, he doesn't do what is expected, which can be annoying at times but he is who he is and for me, that's just right. I felt real fear yesterday when I thought he was having another heart attack and his snoring last night was particularly comforting to me.
So I wrote this whole post last night and after 15 minutes of waiting for it to post...it didn't, it was lost forever, bloggin hell and blogger it.
Dan called yesterday to say that he has been offered the managers job at a restaurant owned by Jordan's boss, it is 4 miles away and would be wonderful for him, he is waiting to hear from the boss. who is going to visit Dan at the Hotel he works at now, then he will decide if he will come and work down here or try for the R.A.F.
He also said that he has booked 2 nights away for H and I, great tickets to see the Lion King at the west end and first class tickets on the train. It would be such a treat but I will wait until we see the tickets before I get too excited! Dan said he will stay here and look after the boys while we are away, H and I have never had a night on our own, ever.
The night we got married we stayed at our condo with 3 teenagers and a very cross Sophie, Seth was conceived that night and well, the rest is history, 3 babies in 3 years, 10 moves in 8 years.....we've had our heads down and noses to the grind stone ever since, it is only this past year that we can begin to lift our eyes and look around, take a breath and begin to enjoy each other and the boys.
Maddening that I am so pathetic and weary lately.
I really long to know what is causing this illness, today I have had an enormous flare up, my feet are swollen and painful, itching fit to make me insane, my neck and head itch, my eyes are still sore. Nothing is different, no extra stress.....what is making this happen?
I wish I could make myself go on some macrobiotic diet, or some kind of drastic health kick that would help but until we have some idea what is causing it, is there any point?
On march the 12th I have the tribunal for incapacity benefit, I have to travel and see a whole panel of strangers who will decide once and for all if I am faking it, if I am truly ill or just making it all up to get benefits.
I have a whole wad of paperwork all about me, written by someone who doesn't know me, a couple of pages written by my doctor and a page written by me.
I have no idea what I will be asked or what they expect, I imagine they will tick boxes and decide which box I fit into.
My life isn't such that it fits into any normal category is it? I don't know what I could do or say to explain how my life is and what I feel, I imagine that on the day I will do what comes naturally at the time, whether that convinces the panel that what I say is true or not, who knows.
I know that to most people I appear fine, that I manage to do what needs to be done, I do everyday things and I do them well, then when no-one can see I fall apart, my body is falling apart because it is trying to make me stop something, shut down, give in, which is impossible, how can I stop or give in or shut down? Oh well.......that's a couple of weeks away yet.
Ah, you see...just as I type that.....Sophie just called, crying. nearly midnight and she is on her way to tell me what is the matter, I will talk and listen and advise and then she will go and do what she wants to do, she will ( I hope) feel better and I will feel worse, when will this situation end? When will she actually listen and change what she is doing so she can change how she feels?
I am glad she feels able to talk to me, I just wish she would listen as well.
No spell check and no time to check it myself, enjoy my typos!!

After the visit.
She cried a lot, I sat and tried to get a word in while she told me how no-one cares and all she wants is a home where she is wanted and can put pictures up and she cried some more and then I took her home, I told her to come back tomorrow, when she has had a sleep and we will watch some girlie movies ( bought 3 of the chickiest flicks at blockbuster on saturday) and talk properly, I also told her that I do love her but until she is actually willing to help herself we are all pretty much helpless.
I really cried when I dropped her off and actually let her see that, I told her how it feels to be her mum and watch her do this to herself, how impossible it is to hug her and love her in a demonstrative way when I am worrying my skin off about whether this is the night she will be raped or murdered. When I have been awake half the night wondering if she is walking through industrial estates, half dressed at 3am, when she turns up here at 7am and says she has been sitting in the car since 4am, how can I throw my arms around her and say how happy I am to see her? I'm not superwoman and personally, I think not grabbing her by the neck and shaking the crap out of her shows pretty darned incredible restraint.
Maybe tomorrow we can make some headway but I won't hold my breath until she is ready to hear what I say.