Thursday, 26 September 2013
The future is coming
I've never been one for having a life plan. This lassie faire attitude to life probably explains my lack of career path, directionless drifting and many other negative traits. On a positive side however, it does mean that I have done many impulsive things that have enriched my life and I've never been afraid to try something.
It has also been a huge benefit in having a disabled child, Sure, it has changed things for me, but having never had a clear view of where my life was going, I don't really know what I am missing out on.
However, this ignorance is bliss, head in sand based planning can only work to a point.
This week, I have been forced, reluctantly, into thinking about the future.
I have mentioned before that Ollie is considered to have a life limiting condition. This frightening phrase is tempered somewhat by the knowledge that nobody can actually quantify what this actually means in terms of years.
This grey cloud means that I dread planning for Ollie's future. However, time moves on, and Ollie's health remains stable, so it has to be done.
A couple of recent meetings have forced me to make some plans.
Despite being small and reasonably portable, Ollie is very strong and very wilful. No big surprise there, I would call myself strong willed and spirited, others may call it something less flattering. His
brother is the same. Where Harry (and me to a point) can be cajoled, persuaded and bribed, Ollie can't , at all. He is very black and white.
One of the worse manifestations of this is his refusal to move if he doesn't want to. Every evening the same scenario unfolds. The TV goes off, I announce it is time for bath, like a man shot in the back of the knees, he falls to the floor and refuses to budge. So I pick him up, rugby ball style and carry him upstairs to his fate.
I am getting older, Ollie is getting bigger, and soon that equation will reach critical mass and I shan't be able to do this. It has been mentioned to me that the best long term solution for many reasons is to have a separate downstairs sleeping area and bathroom for Ollie.
I have finally accepted this and agreed to start the long and slow process of getting this planned and hopefully eventually done.
This fairly practical move has opened a scary can of worms in my head. Will Ollie always be at home with me, my sole responsibility?, will I have to consider residential care to him? will he even live long enough to benefit from these plans? Will I die first? then what will happen to him?
Once my mind is rolling with these thoughts, everything else piles in. Will I always be alone? Does my situation make that a given? Can I ever earn enough to pull myself out of my financial situation?, will I even be able to stay in my house when my divorce is completed?, should I retrain?, start my own business?, continues on ad infinitum.
This further fuels my insomnia.
But the future is coming whether I choose to face it head on or not.
For now, I have thrown some balls in the air, where they may land who knows?