I guess it all started when I hit the five 0
Should I try it, at least give it a go
Time had been flying in the blink of an eye
Was life half over, less time till I die?
A secret I'd kept, never revealing my dream
Perhaps you would laugh, snort, maybe scream
I'm not starting training to be a street fighter
My burning ambition was to be a book writer.
I've been dabbling for years, those stories well hidden
No best seller among them, that sure is a given
Pen what you know, your field of expertise
Well that isn't much - pollen makes me sneeze.
Hedging my bets I started with four
A suggestion was made, then there were more
One took hold, ran, had its own legs
What about me, number three begs.
It ate up my time, consumed like a feast
Oh my goodness, I've unleashed a beast
Before I knew it two had been finished
The ambition, desire hadn't diminished.
One is now out in the public domain
I can't deny it, I gave it my name
Two will join it by the end of June
Three close behind it, I'm over the moon.
So if there's a dream you still want to chase
Give it a go, take it at your own pace
Have no regrets, don't live by what ifs
That burning desire could well be your gift.
Depression
Where do you start with that word? The subject? The root of the problem? Ways to help? First off depression sucks. I think on that we can all agree. As I covered in a previous post I’ve had my own brush with it. I know when I’m on a slippery slope back there and I dig my heels in and address the problem. I’m lucky, mine has never been serious enough to cause lasting problems. It never required medication. But I certainly don’t want to go back there.
I wonder with that, insider knowledge if you like, it means sometimes you can read between the lines when you see signs of depression in others. You can deal with the situation a little easier. Even with that slither of experience I still feel like a fraud. I don’t claim to understand it or how others might be feeling. One thing I do know is that you can’t force someone to face it or admit they have depression. That needs to come from within. Well I think so.
Recently I crossed paths or messages as it was, with an old friend and I didn’t realise they’d been suffering. Our social circles don’t cross like they should. Life has put us miles apart. Do I feel bad that I didn’t know? Sure I do. Do I think they would have confided in me at the time? I’m not sure that they would have. Years ago, without a doubt but things are different now. Thankfully, as they put it, there is light at the end of their tunnel and I’m so glad that is the case.
It’s odd. The conversation kind of danced about the subject. Depression was certainly the elephant in the room but yet we were both on the same page. You can’t be in a rut. Sitting about, not talking and interacting with people is bad. You need to get out and enjoy the little things because it’s the little things we need to be grateful for. As it was said; a trip out for an ice-cream that ended up being a bacon sandwich. It didn’t go as planned but it was still a good day. It just means another trip out for the ice-cream.
During those messages I found out someone else was suffering too. Depression denial was front and center in that world. So why? Why are people still suffering in silence? Not wanting to admit there is a problem? Then I asked myself how comes more people are suffering. Is it because people are admitting they have an issue or is life getting harder. Well for me I am saying life is getting harder. Sadly, it is depressing.
The news is full of doom and gloom. The mindless violence. Tightening finances. The list is long. No wonder depression is claiming more victims. We need some good news. Happy stories. Little things to look forward to. A cheeky cream cake. A trip to the coast just to walk along the sand, maybe dip your toes in the sea if you are feeling brave.
We can’t let depression win. I won’t let it get a grip in my life again. I’m going to do my best to help my friend make it to the light at the end of their tunnel. Just checking in with someone makes a difference. A quick message. Nothing heavy, a hi, how are you doing. Just to let them know you are thinking about them. We will work on our other friend together. just to let them know they are not alone. Sometimes you can be surrounded by people and still be lonely. E x
Inspiration hits.
Isn’t it strange when inspiration can hit? I’ve had an odd few weeks. Things are ticking away nicely and I am not moaning about that. Mundane is good. Rather that than chaos and drama. I’m at junctions with projects where I am unable to to anything else for a while. That’s when I can get antsy. I need something to keep me occupied.
Every now and again I get an idea for a poem. That can be caused by a throw away comment, a situation, even a phone call. Odd lines will pop into my head and I make notes. They can sit around for a while. I might throw them out. Other times I just have to run with it. The inspiration is over powering.
Usually it starts with a draft. Scribbled lines, completed verses, arrows to move things about. Trust me it can look really messy. I’ll walk away. Revisit it later, change it about. Rewrite some of it and finally it all fits together. On a rare occasion it flows and with a few tweaks a poem is written in one sitting.
Yesterday I had inspiration by the bucket load. One poem straight off the bat. Only a few crossing out and it was done. I typed it up. Then I had an idea for two more. Made some notes but didn’t think anything of it. I forwarded the completed poem to a friend for a critique. Powerful was the response. OK then. That got typed up on here.
The inspiration was still swirling about so I drafted the other two I had ideas for. Same thing. They flowed relatively easy and were typed up in no time. At that moment a project started coming together in the cobwebs between my ears. Could I write a book of poetry?
When I got home I read one poem to hubby and stone me, he suggested the same thing. I had written poems for advertising and birthday gifts. He thought it was a good idea. I’d previously been clearing out files on my work PC and had moved the ones I had written there to a flash drive. Searching for the others I started printing them out to see how many I’d actually written. It was more than I thought.
The following day I was travelling to work and a verse of one I had written for my English coursework popped into my head. That I think is still in a box at my dad’s. Keeping hold of that inspiration I started researching how many poems I would need for a book and how it should be put together. Then I made some notes for possible titles. Not a way I would usually work. Titles come last.
Wouldn’t you know one of those titles spoke to me. Not literally as I promise I do not hear voices. So during my lunch break I sharpened my pencil and got to work. There was some scribbling. The thesaurus provided some help. By the end of that hour it was nearly done. It just needed an ending. That final verse.
I go to do something else and wham, inspiration slaps me again. Back to the desk and make some notes. A quick shuffling of words and voila all done. I will actually admit I was laughing to myself as I wrote this one.
Am I on a roll? I sure hope so. Am I running with this idea? Too right I am. I am not going to turn down this urge to pen poems. I haven’t had it for a long while. While the inspiration is there I am grabbing it by the horns and seeing where it takes me. If I am quiet you know why. Nudge me if I start to snore. Ex
Listen to your body.
Have I finally grown up? Am I finally putting myself first? Listening to what my body tells me? Do I no longer pander to everyone else’s expectations. In an answer yes! It feels good. I’m not saying it is always easy because it’s not but at the end of the day if I don’t put myself first no one else will. Sadly that is just how life is. So why have I reached this point?
The last few months have been hard. There is a lot going on in my life that has no place on here but its made me realise how everyone is out for themselves. It has been mentally draining. They want me to jump as soon as they tell me to regardless of what I have to juggle. Well this woman is no longer playing ball. So what am I doing?
Let me just explain, I am out the door to get to the day job before 6 a.m. and on average I am home just under twelve hours later. I know there are many people in that boat. If I am lucky get seven hours sleep but trust me that is never uninterrupted. Some nights its a lot less. My body might tell me it is tired but it doesn’t mean it plays nice and lets me drift off.
I will put my hands up right now. On occasion not sleeping is my fault. I don’t abide by the screen time rule. When I have a scene in my head and the characters are interacting well I have to get it written. If its flowing I don’t want to stop as I know that the following day it won’t happen so that is all on me. I own it.
Lack of sleep and broken sleep catches up with you. For years I would push through and collapse into bed and pray for deep sleep. My husband is up a few times in the night, as I have said he has vivid dreams. So I don’t sleep so deeply. Now I power nap if my body tells me I need it. Does that make me old? Maybe. Does it make me sensible? I think so. My body is telling me I need some sleep so I try and nod off for a little while. Half an hour seems to do it.
In the recent hot weather I was given the opportunity to clear some more things out of my dad’s house over the weekend. I said no. Simply because I was struggling in the heat. I did not have the energy. The buses were not running well. The flat was so hot. Usually I would have gone just to keep people happy but I knew I would have made myself ill or at least probably not on the best form to make it to work Monday morning.
Years ago I was laid up with my back for a couple of weeks. Now when it twinges I listen. For starters I don’t want to experience that pain again. Being laid up is not an option if I can listen to my body and prevent it. If I am not up and about no one is going to step in and help. To be honest I would make a lousy patient.
So when your body tells you its time to step back. Listen. If it tells you have half an hour rest do it. If you have made plans but you have no energy to go, cancel. Things will get done. A short rest now might prevent a longer enforced rest further down the line. We all know it makes sense. It’s not always so easy to do but try to listen to the aches and pains your body has before it screams at you. Ex
The less you do!
The less you do the more people think of you. That is a saying my husband has been known to use on many an occasion over the years. At first I would snort and tell him he was an idiot. Well its not like I’m going to tell him he is right. Please, his head wouldn’t fit in the flat. Plus I like to think that hard work is seen. Stepping up. Helping out. Going the extra mile. They all count for something don’t they?
I could blame my husband… he can be pretty cynical. We all know that the more time you spend with people their views, sayings, and behaviours can rub off on you. However I think maybe life and experience has to take a smidge of responsibility for the fact that maybe there is an element of truth in that saying.
In my working life I have seen it. People do the bare minimum. Less and less with each passing month yet they were praised. Spoke about highly. Always considered first when things in the office needed to change. Please don’t think I need to be praised and patted on the head for doing my job. In fact praise for doing what I am paid for I find embarrassing. A thank you now and again is more that enough. That and the odd payrise.
Sadly I’ve seen it in everyday life. I don’t want this getting political so I will just make the comment and move on. People who seem to work harder and harder get less that those that seem to do little and get everything. My views. Just saying. You may disagree as is your right. We will just be adult about it and be on different sides of the fence.
Can you imagine my frustration when in a roundabout way my sister made another valid point to support this case. She was googling online to find our postcode – don’t ask. Up pops adverts for my husbands landscaping business. A business that has not been trading for a few years. Adverts that I knew nothing about. I have done no promotion for his trade for several years, maybe longer but there linked to our address were all his business details.
His website is only showing an announcement that he is no longer trading. His social media is offline. There is literally nothing being pushed to get him seen but yet all these new places have picked him up that we couldn’t get traction with when I was posting his work for the world to see. I’m guessing some of them didn’t even exist when he was busy trading.
Now me… I have been promoting first my knitting business, then this blog and now my books regularly. Less than I should but a steady flow. The writing I have been promoting weekly for ages. All the media platforms, even ones I swore I wouldn’t use. Where has it got me? Nowhere. So working on this theory, should I just sit back and do less. It will all come to me. Do nothing get everything! Don’t post, get seen!
My sister sent me a few screenshots. I have no idea how many pages she looked at. No mention of me, my blog or my business. Is the internet sexist? The question did pop in my head stupid as it might be. I did less promoting of his business than mine over the years but his got seen. One was even linked to my name! Those algorithms suck! I have yet to update my husband on this revelation. He will indeed find it funny. Me however I am off to sulk. Ex
Unexpected update.
We had an appointment today which gave us unexpected news. This was our six monthly appointment with the Parkinson’s consultant. Twenty minutes with the nurse and all is good there with the tests she did then on to see the consultant. I think we were both expecting an increase in the dose of the medication. I hadn’t noticed any improvement and my husband said he didn’t actually feel it was working at all.
She asked her questions and then carried out the same tests as before. Got him tapping his feet, taping his thumb and finger, she wiggled his arms, wrists and legs. At one point it felt like a ‘can you pat your head and rub your tummy’ type tests. Which I would probably fail. Then started the unexpected news.
She has seen an improvement in his mobility. That was certainly unexpected. His tapping is faster, his joints less stiff. Yes the tremor is more defined but that could be due to the injections he had recently to his spine as they are not good for Parkinson’s. Oh what a surprise. What improves one condition aggravates another – shocking!
She asked about hallucinations and we mentioned his dreams. She seemed surprised that I knew about the REM sleep behaviour disorder. This girl does her homework. There was an offer of medication which we declined. The frequency of him lashing out doesn’t warrant pumping more medication in him but we know it’s an option if we need it.
His balance is still good. Yippee. I’m not going to try and get him drunk and see if that is still the case. He does not freeze when turning which is a massive plus. She was pleased that he was still getting out and working on the allotment. Keep that exercise up as it’s good to be moving and having something to get out for. Funny how others have said it’s not enough. Some is better than none is it not?
There is no increase in dosage that was also unexpected as it seems his dose is still quite low. The gap between his tablets when I’m working is too much so we are up to four times a day. Then we get some clarity… we have misunderstood the instructions for taking them. Yes we know the medication works best on an empty stomach. That was not unexpected. However we were told at least half an hour before food. That we took as he needed to eat after. NO. Not the case. So we have been trying to work this around meal times and we didn’t need to. Thanks for finally clearing that up.
Now this was the most unexpected part of the appointment. The new drug that he has just started for arthritis is being trialled in America for its affect on Parkinson’s. A possible new treatment. Wow. So this could be a double whammy for my husband. It could help both his arthritis and Parkinson’s. I looked at him and grinned ‘you are a guinea pig.’ Obviously it’s early days. In my mind the fact that it’s being trialled is a positive.
So we are now in six monthly appointment rotations between the consultant and the local Parkinson’s nurse. That appointment at the end of the year should prove interesting after our last interaction. From my point of view it will be frosty. I’ll let my husband take the lead on that one.
Personally I feel the appointment was really positive and that was unexpected. Yet as is the case it means more work for me. Until he gets into a routine I need to remind him of the new times to take his medication. It’s already programmed in my phone. I’m starting Monday. I’ve given myself the weekend off. Ex
Eyes everywhere.
Is it wrong that when someone steps into your house they have eyes everywhere? Yes its natural to look about, we have all done it. A quick glance. A cursory look. I get that but there are some people that seem to take it to a whole different level and it annoys me. My husband said he was expecting it on this occasion and boy he was not wrong.
Recently we had an appointment for a home visit from a nurse to teach me how to administer my husbands new arthritis medication via injection. Husband said I better move anything that I didn’t want seen. Trust me our space it tiny. Its not as tidy as I would like. So I cleared a few important bits away so they were out of sight. Then we get a call to say they are going to be early. That’s a first.
A bubbly gentleman walks through the door and within less than a minute he is stood, eyes on our calendar on the wall which I had made up for my husband using our holiday photos. ‘Wow that looks impressive. Some one was enjoying themselves.’ I was in the kitchen thinking he was referring to our wedding photo which is proudly hanging on the wall. ‘Where were you?’ ‘Maldives husband replied. ‘Oh right, both pictures?’ Yes.
His eyes then moved round the room. Over the TV is a small shelf with two wooden animals we brought back from safari. ‘Oh look at that giraffe and elephant. Where did you get those?’ Africa I replied as I appeared from the kitchen. My eyes going to my husband who shot me a look that said ‘I told you so.’ I glared at him, I hate it when he is right.
He was only in the flat less than fifteen minutes but he made me feel really uncomfortable. Some of you would probably claim he was trying to find something to put us at ease. Make a connection. Find something to talk about. To me it felt nosy. Overly… I’m not going to say friendly but comfortable maybe. Too comfortable.
I have experienced this with a family member in the past. If a letter was left on a pile away from where they were sitting they would make the point of reading it. How did I know they had read it? They mentioned its contents. I’d not got around to putting it away. Is that not rude? An invasion of privacy. Who runs their eyes over someone else’s correspondence? If you are going to do it at least keep quiet about it.
So am I wrong? Is it acceptable to go into someone’s home, as in this case, once, and have a good look about and comment on several things? People have commented in the past that I am too serious about pretty much everything. The phrase ‘I should lighten up’ makes me roll my eyes. I see it as I am there to even the scales somewhat for all the people for which everything is a joke… just saying.
Sure I have gone into people’s homes and noticed family photos. I have wanted to comment about ones that are missing but I wouldn’t dream of saying anything. I don’t peer into open doorways as I walk down halls. I sure as heck don’t open closed doors. I feel guilty if I get lost going to the bathroom and end up in the wrong room. Maybe I am the odd bod is this case. Maybe my eyes should be everywhere. But what if I see something I shouldn’t? I worry about these things!!! E x
Information overload
How do they expect patients to take so much information in at one time? Is it done that way so they can blame the patient when things go wrong and appointments are missed? Recently my husband had an afternoon admission for spinal injections. He was the first one in theatre because they wouldn’t sedate him. Don’t ask its a long complicated and frustrating situation. I would like to point out this was a private hospital appointment covered by my work’s insurance.
He was back in his room for less than ten minutes when his door became a revolving one. A nurse to check how he was feeling. Another lady asking if he wanted a some water. Then another to see if he was ready for some food. The nurse comes back to tell him he isn’t to get up without her being present.
His food arrives then the physio appears. The poor guy is trying to eat his food as he is hungry but she wants to ask questions. Up I step into carer role to provide her with information. Have you had these injections before? Do you have a history of back problems? I am trying to bite back the sarcasm. No he just thought it would be fun to have a consultant stick needles in his spine for no reason. Then wanting to scream at her to read his notes.
Are you here under medical insurance? Oh good heavens read the information in his file. Yes. I try to take the bite out of my response. Right so we will arrange a physio appointment. That wasn’t part of the approved treatment plan from the insurers. Call them I’m sure it will be fine if not it’s not that expensive… rude darling to assume we can afford it. So I hit back. Don’t bother booking us an appointment with the gentleman as he is useless. I didn’t have to say anymore. Oh OK. That alone told me lots.
She then stands beside me and reads me the information in the suggested exercises. It wasn’t quite finger under the words as she read but not far from it. Get him on the floor. I was having Deja-vu. These are the same exercises he has been given after every back procedure. I just let her talk, then she went off to book an appointment. One that we will cancel. She comes back and starts telling him what he can and can’t do.
Finally she leaves and husband say he needs the toilet. Not a nurse in sight. I go and find one. She stands and watches him get himself upright. I’m there helping him up and she doesn’t seem bothered. He walks to the toilet and comes back. OK you can get dressed. She leaves. Then another nurse appears and starts telling him what he can and can’t do. She tells us the information for his follow up appointment, all while I am helping him get dressed.
By this time my head is spinning. My information retention is usually pretty good but I have been given options for physio appointments and now I am questioning what is what. I know the follow up is in October and I know it is in the evening but that is the only information I retained. Another nurse appears with his discharge paperwork and tells us different time scales for recovery, rest periods after and suggestions for what he should do. To say I was confused would be an understatement. They were all reading from different pages.
All this took less than an hour from when he was back in his room. I have never felt so rushed before. How a patient could take all that information in I have no idea. My husband said he gave up listening. I failed miserably. Mind you there were a few different versions. I think we will listen to his body and I will make some calls when things have settled down. Ex
Being hit by emotion
Do you ever get hit by a wave of emotion when you least expect it? That emotion is caused by something so innocuous and that in itself is surprising. But when it hits two of you at the same time… well that is a lot to deal with. Let me explain.
Over the last couple of months we have been clearing out my family home as my dad has finally decide to sell it. Due to space constraints in our home I never really moved many things out of my room when I got married. Clearing it out always got pushed down the list. All the while hoping we would eventually get a house then my things would finally move in too.
The main things had been boxed up and put into storage on a recent visit and my sister and I were back there emptying all the folders containing college work and bagging up the rubbish. The two of us were sat on my bed when I stumbled across a large brown envelope addressed to our mother. I pulled out the contents and… wham… the tears started. It was the care notes from her final days, Why they were in my room I don’t know.
Sniffing and apologising I looked over at my sister and she was doing exactly the same thing. That set me off more. Neither of us had even read the notes, it was just knowing what they were. Its not like this was a recent event. Mum passed over two decades ago. We both chuckled, sniffed, rubbed our eyes, got our emotion under control and in the very British way said ‘how stupid.’ Then got back to the task at hand.
Those notes got put on the book case for a little while as I felt guilty about putting them out for shredding/recycling. It took a deep breath and my big girl pants to empty the folder and throw them out. Mum wouldn’t have wanted us to keep them and I had no intention of reading them.
The last things I was bagging up were some old clothes that had been found in the spare room wardrobe and my dinner and dance dress. I have not seen that dress in over thirty years. Wham… emotion explosion number two. Why? Mum made that dress for me. I can remember so clearly her cursing me for losing weight and her needing to take it in for the third time. I hugged that dress and looked at my sister who nodded in understanding with tears in her eyes.
As I sat here typing this up another ripple of emotion has washed over me and a few tears have escaped. That dress is now in storage on top of the box containing my wedding dress. It won’t get worn again (it won’t fit) but I’m not ready to let it go. Is it stupid? Possibly. Probably. It is the only tangible thing I have that my mum made. So yes the emotion which is attached is strong.
I have one more trip to make back to my family home. The last few boxes which need to be stored. Am I expecting another wave of emotion? I’m not sure. It felt strange seeing a for sale board outside. Thinking about it I don’t think I am. For one simple reason and some people will think that it is a harsh thing I am about to say but the heart of that house has been missing for a very long time. The family have gone their own ways. It’s no longer home. That is inside us wherever we are. Ex
Does the medication work?
Does your medication work? That certainly is a question to ponder. I guess asking that can open a can of worms but hey lets do it. Now where should we start? We get a prescription and we know what the drug is supposed to do, help with or prevent. If the drug is for something simple… clearing up an infection. That is easy. Infection has gone. the drug did what it was prescribed to do. Happy days.
Some drugs you can see the work that they do. The swelling has gone down. The itching has stopped. Others the work is hidden but you can tell it is happening. The heart rate is right, the blood pressure lower. You no longer have palpitations. The dizzy spells have stopped. Sometimes you have to wait a while for the effects to become apparent. The dose may need a tweak or two to get it to work but what if it doesn’t?
We have had a few appointments recently. As is the way you get chatting to people. One comment surprised me. My husband was talking to a nurse who was conducting pre-admission tests. She spotted his tremor in his arm and asked if he has Parkinson’s and was he on medication. He said yes but I’m not sure its working. She replied ‘I don’t think it is for my Dad either.’
He has been on medication for months and it has been increased once but I can’t say I have seen any indication it makes a difference. Now obviously without it he could be worse. We don’t know that. My husband says he doesn’t feel like it is helping. In fact he has other problems that we are beginning to question if they are linked. So what do you do?
How long do you give a drug time to work? Time to make a difference? How many times do you up the dosage? When do you ask if there is an alternative? Each adjustment is then followed by a six month wait for the next appointment. That is a long time to wait for a drug to work. How many six month cycles does he have left until we get told, sorry there is nothing we can do? In that time we have been buffering, waiting for things to improve. Not fully living because it is not helping in the way they say it will.
The whole process feels like a barrel load of ‘how long is a bit of string’ questions mixed with a need for a crystal ball sprinkled with a handful of ‘what ifs.’ Should you trust the process? Keep your fingers crossed that suddenly the drug will work? I haven’t reached out to our Parkinson’s nurse as her last comment about ‘not being bothered to adjust our lives to fit the drug’ doesn’t fill me with confidence. We have another appointment soon so we need to decide what to do? Well I don’t because it is not my call to make.
Sometimes I don’t notice his tremor. I’m not sure if that is because I have got used to it. Other times it is so apparent. That is usually when he is stressed. I haven’t notice his lip tremble recently but he says he feels it more. Before this next appointment we are starting new medication for another issue that we have been waiting for for eighteen months. Will that work?
It would be nice to know what to do for the best. You can only go by advice and how you feel. A little improvement. A sign we are heading down the right path. Something would be nice. Lets keep our fingers crossed that something starts to work. Ex