I think I’ve settled into my new room quite easily.  The bigger issue is around what to do with bits of my stuff that remain in the boxes that they’ve been in for two years.

Ive made a half hearted start on sifting through them.  Some 1990s ties are getting chucked out.  A collection of cables with old style interfaces can go – I’m not going to use them again.  And how the hell did my passport end up where it did?  I’ve recovered that to a place of safety, even though I might never use it again.

And therein lies the problem.  Stuff that I’d retained / accumulated with a view to buying my own place isn’t of practical use to me.  Binning it all before the cancer gets me feels defeatist.  Dumping the job on my sister / kids is wrong.  Keeping it when there’s nowhere in my room to store it not quite right.  Even if it can be stored elsewhere in the house.

I spent part of November 2016 chucking stuff away to make my departure less demanding on others.  But I thought I only had six months to live.  A few weeks later a couple of years were added.  Then they were taken away by afatinib failing.  Although months may have been added by osimertinib.

I’m not totally sure why I’m keeping certain bits.  I just feel unhappy chucking them out.  Even if I never look at them again.  I suppose if keeping them avoids a feeling of regret that’s a good thing.

But just sorting through stuff has brought the odd tear to my eye.  It’s a bit like being proactive in preparing to die.  And I’m just not ready for that.

New Year New Bedroom