Friday 13th

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same
...Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it

New growth springs from forest fires.  That's a thought to hang onto.

Yesterday, on Friday the thirteenth, OD got her rejection letter from Cambridge and drowned in the pool.

I am SO proud of her for giving it her best shot, and will be even more proud of the way she tackles this set back and sees it as a chance to redouble her efforts:  it was such a close run thing.  In a weird way, a year out of academia will give OD a chance to mature and to experience things she would never otherwise have done.

Also yesterday was the day that my father went into a home from which he is unlikely to ever emerge.  It was time.  My mother had been his full time carer for several years and carrying on was not an option without her endangering her health and giving up the rest of her own quality of life.  With moderate to severe dementia he will be better cared for in a residential facility.  Still, it's a heartbreaking time and incredibly difficult for my mother.  OD has gone to stay with her for the weekend so they can nurse one another's very different heartbreaks.

Meanwhile Waif is being reassuringly teenagery:  she spends a lot of time mooching in her room, which is more like a self contained flat as she has the largest bedroom in the house with a sitting part and a bedroom part.  I will put up a photo later.  The rest of her time is spent out with school friends, generally smoking in Ollie's hut.  Waif swears to me that she does not smoke but she definitely smells strongly of cigarettes and it is clear that she is at least a second hand smoker.

I am a vehement anti-smoker merely on quality of life grounds - I HATE the smell and can't imagine why anyone would want to do it - yet also on health grounds.  However, the health issues seem remote compared with anorexia which strikes so young and with such deathliness so I keep a low profile on the whole thing and hope that Waif is clever enough to make the right decision on her own.  On one visit to the Maudsley, Waif was asked what I thought of smoking (the psych was encouraging her to hang out with her friends and drink and smoke!) and Waif was very clear that I had no shade of uncertainty about my views.  So that's good.  I can't really do more than give her strong advice.  I have picked my battle and it is not the smoking one.

The Maudsley phoned me on Friday.  You may remember that Waif has a review coming up on 2 February.  Well, apparently the Head Psych (Waif's lovely, firm counsellor) is off for a good few weeks following an operation so we will be seeing someone else.  I am still glad that Waif is going as it will be a time to reweigh her, but sure that she will not like the CHANGE of psych.  I am guessing that she will be very shy and that the psych will not get a word out of her.  Head Psych couldn't believe the difference in interaction from when she first met Waif (the no speaking act) to our final few appointments where Waif was the outspoken, zingy, ascerbic, funny girl that she is with us at home.  I hope to see more and more of that girl  :-)