Diary of a day: 9:30 AM

Yesterday got away on me and I really did not get another chance to diarise (yes, literary pedants, I know this is not a word). I jotted down a few notes on my phone as I went and should have enough to finish the story.

Received a telephone call from my son, Jeremy. He is 17 today and it really is hard to fathom how fast time has gone. I know it sounds cliched but it does feel like only yesterday that he was an innocent little toddler. Now he towers over me (in my chair I finally understand what it is to be short). He is long and lanky with wild blonde hair and is secretly proud of his biceps and chest. Perhaps not so secretly. He always wears a singlet and I keep hearing stories of him performing striptease. Anyway, he calls me to let me know that he passed his driving test and is now the proud possessor of a P class licence. This is good news, as it will ease the burden on Elly to perform taxi services. It is also scary news, as I can remember what it was to be a teenage driver. The statistics on road accidents does not lessen my concern. But I think he is a sensible enough kid. I hope so.

As I noted yesterday, I spent until 10:30 AM blogging. My catheter bag is full again (yes, I know, I spend an inordinate amount of time focused on that stupid bag). My associate, Andrew, is going above and beyond the call of duty. He is employed to help me deliver theology units, but has also become a personal carer while I am at work. I shall have to arrange an additional levy for his services. He helps me out in the bathroom and at least pretends that it is no big deal. His wife is an occupational therapist so I think it is more than just pretend.

Back at my desk I should be preparing for class but I can’t keep my eyes open. I make some effort but eventually I rock back in my chair, ostensibly for pressure relief, and fall asleep. so here is one of the really cool things about my new life. I can find a chair wherever I go and the tilt function means that I also carry my bed with me.