Oh damn, still in this dream.

The Da's not having that good a time. Sun and today have been...well, he's stopped eating again. The doc says a gall stone has probably moved (on top of all the other bloody stuff) and is causing him pain. Painkillers make Dad confused. Ergo, he hates them. More hallucinations and lavatorial indignities. The look he sometimes gives me as I help him to the loo: thank God we don't have an old service revolver about the house; given his faith I would hate for him to disqualify himself from a Christian funeral.
However, I do suspect he'd like it all finished with. Definitely DNR, however much we would prefer otherwise. Friday's his birthday. He's going to be around for that.
Burnt my hand making mother a hot-water bottle. That's fucked me playing-wise for the next week or so*. I'm just too cack-handed for all this looking after people stuff. I should have been sensible and made enough money to employ someone to help out. Advice to budding guitarists: study law, or medicine, or finance.


*Tried bleach on the burn immediately after it happened - good reports thus far, & might not be out for a week. Does anyone else use bleach like this apart from serving troops?