Jun. 3rd, 2013

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Well, I went to see my mum on Saturday, and all I can say to you is what I said to her: I've got my mum back. She's no longer a little old lady, having dropped at least 20 years; she's standing tall again and not doing that hunched over thing; she's got all her colour and joy back. I don't want to cry when I hug her because she's so brittle under my hands - now I have to almost reach up to hug her because she's about an inch taller than I am for the first time in about 6 years. And all that's in a week. She's going to be doing the Marathan before we know it!

Am happy, very, very happy. And also tired and deflated, but I think that's almost the anti-climax now; I've spent so long being stressed about this and fighting it, that now it seems to be over, I'm left exhausted.

She went to see him on Friday and he's perfectly happy. A lovely lady called Gail took her and he recognised her as she peered through the window at him and happily spent a few minutes pulling faces at her, and as they left, he stood by his window waving both arms, big grin on his face. So he's obviously much happier as well.

Going well...


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