It feels so strange to wake up in the hospital again, to wake up to the sound of nurses in the corridor and chatter of patients and relatives.
Mum was visibly very weak and tired this morning she could barely muster the energy to speak. In preparation for a blood test, she could not drink or eat anything since midnight, so she was starving and even weaker. I strain to hear her when she speaks to me or asks me to so something, and sometimes I really can't make out what she's saying, and she gets very annoyed and moody having to repeat herself. It really tests my patience and tolerance to the limit sometimes, and I have to constantly remind myself that she is like this because of her illness, perhaps also because of the fear of impeding death. I sometimes really have to hold myself back from getting upset and bursting out.
I was very tired from the bad sleep and drained by my dreams and disturbing thoughts
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