My kitchen is a jamboree bag, because on any given day, you’ll never know what you might find in it. Would it be the scene of a mass murder? The location of a horde of pillaging Saxons? Or the site of a 1980s acid party?
Last weekend for instance, my poor kitchen with it’s solid wood cabinets and marble countertops, bore all the hallmarks of a herd of buffalo rampaging through it. Not only did it appear as though a violent and frenzied charge had taken place, it then seemed like the herd had made their way back from said rampage and decided to stop and fornicate upon my worktops, thus spilling everything onto the floor.
Today however, It was the turn of the food fight in a crack house look. But where I see crack house food fight, the Womb Fruit sees only a couple of crumbs and a speck of dust.
So, usually after looking around to assess the damage, I quickly calculate the amount of time that it takes for me to clean the cooker, scrub the counters, mop the floor and wash the dishes, as well as the type of pain that would come with each of these tasks…and then I promptly burst into tears and hobble back upstairs to hide under the duvet.

This time, the tears didn’t last long however. Five minutes later and like an arthritic tortoise on steroids, I soon set to work on getting my crack house looking like a poppy den, which is one step up from crack so I call that progress. I even made myself some toast and a cup of coffee afterwards. The downside to all that activity, was that I couldn’t carry said items up the stairs and so just stood there, cup and plate in hand and wept instead.
I had calculated correctly the parts of my body that would pay for my domesticity, and that’s exactly what life has become, a series of calculations.

Let me explain further by way of a few hastily constructed diagrams.


In the morning, I often have to calculate whether or not to take a shower before I iron the Womb-fruit’s school uniform, or if it’s best to iron first and shower later. Now having a shower depletes any energy that I may have and so a rest is needed, usually for up to 20 minutes as time idly ticks by. The upshot of this is that I’m then late in smoothing the crinkles from the Fruit Of My Loom’s uniform, thus making him late for school. However, if I iron first, then I will be in too much pain to take a shower later.

The same principle also works for cooking versus cleaning.


Similarly, a day of shopping allows for more calculations.


Each  trip to the shopping Mall means calculating the distance of each escalator and lift to the exact shop/floor I wish to visit. The journey and mode of transport itself must also be carefully calculated and arranged because time spent sitting down means less time where I’m able to stand.
You may discern that there is a pattern to every outcome, and that pattern is time spent in bed. But this varies from task to task and can be anything from 20 minutes to a few days. Everything from socialising to putting on my tights before I leave the house and the cost that each one has upon my body, has to be ascertained.
And thus, my life becomes a series of calculations.


19 thoughts on “Calculations.

  1. Gosh, I wish I could make all your calculations add up to positive outcomes for you. Love the little displays – not liking what they represent for you.
    Much hugs and good thoughts winging out to the Universe for you – hopefully Uni will deliver them directly to your soul – it would be a bugger if you had to go and collect them!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I can only imagine how all the calculations you have to make every single day and the energy exerted for them takes its toll, emotionally and physically. I curse that illness and I want to burst into tears with you, and I want to make it all go away. You are truly amazing, Lily, you really are! Faced with all this, some people might just give up and stay in bed (which would be understandable). But despite the pain and hardship, you make calculations, you organize time as best you can, you clean the kitchen, you iron Spawn’s uniform, you carry on and try to look forward. That takes a lot of courage and resolve! Sending love and hugs (and virtual chocolate) from afar! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    • Aww, thanks Madilyn. I’m just trying to make my life as easy and as productive as possible. Calculating everything helps me to achieve that because what’s the alternative? The tears only come when the pain is intolerable and even then, I push through it and continue. Spawn has enough to do already without having to do absolutely everything else.
      Thank you for the hug and double thanks for the virtual chocolate. 🙂 xx

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Can I just tell you, Lily, there is no way I could do what you do on a daily basis I just couldn’t and God bless you for all of your efforts and for making ways when there are seemingly none. I wish there was a cure and I’m hoping that cannabis patch is something that comes to fruition for everyone.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Dear Karen, having known many people who have had cancer, I can honestly say I don’t think that I could ever have endured what you went through. That takes a special kind of strength that I pretty much know that I DON’T have. You have my utmost respect for going through such an horrendous battle, and I mean that sincerely. ❤

      In lieu of a cure, I'd take something that would ease at least some of the symptoms. I'm not even asking for all of them to be taken away. But I've got an appointment with the doc on Monday so will ask about the patches. Thanks for the reminder. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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