I am revisiting this thread trying to kick-restart my Xmas cheer. 16 days of spending 9-11 hours a day (depending on whether our private carer takes over for a couple of hours so I can walk 4 miles on a round trip to sort the dog out!) at Mum's bedside, being her much-needed advocate have left me somewhat dislocated from December. And the news... and what day it is... and what the heck out I used to do before I started spending most of my life either walking 8 miles a day or sitting in a sweltering ward watching HCAs struggle with the demands of complex injuries and even more complicated. people (some with no excuse except being demanding, spoiled, bedblocking @rseholes). I have eaten a tub of Roses this week, but it only gave me indigestion and calorific regret, not a sense of festive indulgence. And I do have one string of lights up outside, but... No, there we go... one half-hearted mini Xmas tree out of the wardrobe to begin internal decoration. I really ought to be hanging washing up instead though. Anyway... Ho, ho, ho, etc. Operation Get Festive begins here. And ends on the 23rd when Mums AA and my CA stop. Then Rudolph had better watch out or he'll be having his operation after all! Chin up everyone... he said, suddenly aware of being crumpled on the sofa like a deflated Donald Trump blimp, with my several chins resting on my chest. Weeks of slouching on hospital beds or in lousy chairs have not been kind to me. Not that I ever needed an excuse to slouch. Some are born slouchers. Some achieve slouching. And some have slouching thrust upon them by life. I fear I fit into all three categories. Which is why I'm here slouching instead of in bed sleeping while I have chance. So much opportunity to finally get a rest. Yet so much time spent staring at the ceiling instead. Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way, Oh what fun it is to slouch, And fret the night away! Right, washing machine, teeth, bed. PS Mum doing pretty well but physios keep disappointing me. They want her to learn to use a walking frame but one five minute session a day seems unlikely to get us there before, oh, I dunno, Doomsday? But what would I know? PPS. I think I may be doing this revisiting the thread thing wrong. I feel less festive now than I did when I started typing! And if I slouch any more I'll slide off the sofa. Night all.