Wed 28 Feb '18 - Part 1

OMG drama! Thing is, I may have shot myself in the foot and didn't see it coming.

I have written about my lovely little granny flat and how safe I feel with my daughter in the house.  Well, all that's about to be tested for a week (Sat-Sat) when they go away for a holiday at the coast.  I'm being left in the "care" of the nanny who has absolutely no knowledge about firing up or re-fuelling the back-up generator when we have a power outage, who has absolutely no first aid training should I require assistance, whether it be for a breathing exacerbation or a slip in the bath and who is unfamiliar with me and my health condition.  On top of that, Rosie has given the nanny our armed response pin code and pass word should our security be compromised, which in itself is a &$%#@ compromise!  Here I sit plugged into a thumping oxygen machine that severely limits the range of my mobility and ability to help myself in time of a crisis.  The nanny has no concept of the enormity of the responsibility placed in her hands so she must also be feeling the heat.  Feeling vulnerable doesn't come close to a panic attack!  

Yet I understand Rosie and John's need to get away too and I can't expect them to sacrifice their holiday for my benefit.  Of course Rosie has notified our security company of the situation as well as asking our neighbour to keep a check on me.  And she has given the nanny a list of emergency phone numbers.  Still doesn't make me feel any better or safer.  

I am led to ask if this will be the norm when they take their 3-week Christmas break up-country with John's family, bearing in mind that the nanny also takes a Christmas break away.  Where does that leave me then?  Am I being selfish, overly concerned, unnecessarily anxious?

Anyway, this whole business has opened my mind to the fact that I cannot expect to be the focus of Rosie's attention - it's not fair on any of us, especially her little boy.  I gave this house to Rosie for her future security but I'm actually holding her back from turning it into a home.  I cannot, will not, be baggage that weighs her down or stands in her way.  

I need a home of my own, not ON my own, but with like-minded folk of my generation - a retirement home.  I reckon I've earned my stripes all these years raising a family and working my butt off to provide for them, now it's Me Time.  It's time to call it a day and say cheers to my sweet little courtyard with the bird bath and potted roses........ but thereby hangs another tale in part 2 .........