It’s official, I don’t like change. I thought I did, I thought I could cope well with it. I even used to quip that change is easy look how we all managed to make it today without bemoaning the loss of yesterday.
Crazy and big headed, I know but the moment a ‘new’ carer knocked on my door I knew by the way my stomach turned that it was all a lie.
She seemed pleasant enough but the mere fact that I needed to explain what I wanted to do and where to find and put things really got to me. I can’t explain why, it just did and to make matters worst she didn’t throw her rubbish away (ok it was mine but generated by her) and it sat there looking at me and I just left it there so I could remind her about it in the morning.
But I can excuse myself I’m living with lupus after all!
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