The other night I'd emailed my mum the link to the funny complaint letter and last thing before I went to sleep yesterday I had logged onto my email just to check and see if she had replied yet.
She didn't like the letter apparently, didn't find it all that funny. But it was what she said next that shook me up more than I would have thought possible.
My granda was fixing something in the bath on Monday night and fell when he was getting out of it, doing something to his arm or shoulder in the process. It took him ages to manage to get himself up due to the fact one of his arms was useless but he managed eventually to get to the phone and dial 999.
Obviously he is okay, although he has his arm in a sling and they had to pop it back into place or something like that. My mum says he is more worried that he won't really be able to wash for the next few days than the actual pain - because he doesn't have anyone to tell him if he smells or not. I think it was that thought, on top of the image of my granda (who always seemed like the strong, infallible one of all my grandparents) helpless on the floor of his bathroom with no one to help him, that drove me over the edge.
I couldn't stop crying. I actually put my laptop off and cried myself to sleep. I haven't cried this much in ages. Probably since nearly a year ago now when everything went wrong at once.
I still feel like anything could set me off even this morning. I'm getting ready for work and I just wish I didn't have to go. If I get any of the usual crap, or even any UNusual crap, then I'm liable to snap.
I really hope he is going to be alright.