Steps

So, I am now seven weeks post op and the cast is finally off…it came off just over a week ago and it has been a mixed blessing really. It is way more comfortable to sleep at night now…I just lose my eyes and off I drift. This is luxury in the extreme and I hope I never forget that. But in the day it is still very painful. I have done some snooping and it’s quite normal for swelling etc to be there for up to 6m after the op so I am settling in for a marathon rather than a sprint.

What am I focussing On? Well, this experience has taught me a lot of lessons…and I can summarize them as follows. I will actively appreciate and care for:

  • My friends and family
  • The level of support I have had has been stunning. My loved ones have scooped me up and carried me, sometimes literally, over the last few weeks. I am taking some of them out this evening to try to say thankyou but it will never be commensurate with what I have received from them. Friends are your chosen family, and mine have gone beyond even that in some cases. I am so so lucky.
  • My health
  • Unexpected? Well, my health is what I would politely term as ‘buggered’ what with this foot, the Parkinsons and other lovelies I have yet to discuss with y’all. Don’t worry, I will, but not now. What I mean is I will not ever ever ever take any movement, strength or ability I currently have for granted again. I completely shut down a number of times over the past weeks and it was SCARY. The gratefulness when I felt the energy surging through my body when the painkillers worked or the Parkinsons meds kicked in is almost overwhelming. I pledged to maintain and then improve my health levels. I intend to keep that promise to myself and my loved ones.
  • My independence

  • Well, I had a glimpse of the future, depending on others and the NHS. I didn’t like it. One bit. I will fight and fight hard for independence as long as I can. I am feeling militant.
  • My mental strength
  • I have always known I am stubborn. I have always known that I have been blessed with intelligence too. I had to draw upon these resources big time. When your body is shutting down and you don’t know why it is very easy to panic, I know I did a number of times, but it is also possible to grit your mental teeth and ride the storm. It takes practice, which unfortunately, I had plenty of opportunities for, but it is doable. I meditated myself silly but hey, it worked. I logically reasoned out my predicaments to myself (very frustrating to those who have different problem so,ca g approaches I admit) so that I could face them with reduced fear. I learnt how ideal With bad news, how I react In a crisis, what it is like to draw on others’ strength and trust them.

    And so I sit here and think about the future. I have to plan to achieve and maintain these priorities. And I have to understand myself so as to succeed. Next time we will go into that particular briar patch….

    Now

    I have a confession to make, I have another love in my life. I have been working on another venture and this weekend it took flight. I am now the founder of an arts space here in Stitchopolis. Can you believe it??  Check it out here

    Hope you like!

    Cask

    wine improves with age…that’s what we are led to believe. I find it’s lure is disappating tbh. I’m looking at the foothills of low to zero alcohol intake with a sense of adventure and, dare I say it, anticipation. Parkinsons and wine are not easy bedfellows. To a certain degree, teetotalism is an anathema to me. The whole concept of having a rule in place makes me kick against it. And yet.  Isn’t it more rebellious to reject drinking?  It’s increasingly appealing.

     

    Silver spoon

    I look for a silver spoon

    To help the medicine go down 

    The bitter taste sticks around

    And reminds me that 

    Life is not all sugar

    It’s not so sweet at times.

    But then, sugar isn’t really sweet

    A history stained with tyranny and tears. 

    Shielded by marketing and greed

    But it fixes the rancid flavor of illness

    Of incapacity

    Of sloth.

    The rotting smell of disappointment

    Exhaustion 

    And fear.

    The spoon ladles out the syrup

    Sticky, strong and thick. 

    And drops it, streaming over the cracks 

    Covering them fro a moment 

    But not for ever. 

    Arnold’s song, or total recall

    How do you remember?
    Cast your mind far behind to the past.
    Is it taste, smell or touch
    Which one gives you a rush?
    Which one transports you through space and time?

    Recognition is fickle,
    And synapses crackle
    With altered results every go.
    Which version of truth
    Is the one you produce
    Is it the shiniest one that you show ?

    Nostalgia is tinted and this we all know,
    A production, a piece.
    You’re the star.
    And we love to embroider,
    And will tend to avoid
    Deep dark shadows that lurk
    Far below.

    So what is your favorite?
    And Where do you go?
    Is your view clear and truthful or skewed.
    Do you need true perspective for your retrospective
    To have value?
    I don’t think you do.

    For your choice can’t be wrong
    Its for you, no one else
    It’s the way your mind paints on its wall.
    My wall’s covered in scribbles
    All my thoughts
    All my babbles.
    Here it is
    Opened up to you all

    Every word every mark
    Is collected and noted
    And if Memories fade?
    How to feel?
    I’ll refer back to see
    What has happened to me
    And I’ll hope that my recall is real.

    .

     

    Cast off

    So, I have got to the point where I’ve changed the tagline on this blog. It used to be craft orientated but let’s be honest guys, that is falling by the wayside isn’t it? And I’ve gone into art, life, Parkinson’s,… Everything really. So, the tagline has changed to reflect it. I expected to feel sorry about it but really it is liberating.

    perfection is misleading I think. When you think about all the characters in children’s stories who seek or are obsessed with perfection, they are all evil ones.  I don’t want the pressure but I want to keep my standards. So, no ‘good enough’ for me, I will strive to be good but stop short of perfect because it’s not worth it and ultimately damaging. 

    Am I really casting off? No, I think I’m casting around really. That sounds as if I have no Direction. Actually, I’m enjoying the view – the longer i spend thinking about it, the simpler it becomes : I just have to focus on experience, family and emotion.

    I also have to focus on health. so boring. But necessary. The Parkinsons is definitely debilitating these days even though I don’t like admitting that. So, I have a choice don’t I? I love to tell my boys the same thing. Either one or the other. Well, I can either choose to start looking after myself properly or crash and burn. And the latter is not an option, is it?

    To that end, I have started a new therapy which is, dare I say it, effective. I will do a proper Post about it shortly but if you are interested please message. I’m not selling anything, this is not a commercial thing at all – I am happy to share my story. And it makes me realise that I really have to think about maintenance, maintenance of my body. My boys are so energetic, they would be : they are only 5 and 9 and I need to keep up with them. At the moment they are killing me!

    whine

    With apologies to The Stranglers…

    Chardonnay Chardonnay

    yes I know what people say

    that you’re just the same as eating cakes of cream.

    i can dream,

    oh I can dream…

    that one day they’ll devise

    wine that doesn’t hit my thighs

    wine that actually makes you fit and thin

    Shrinks your skin

    and sucks you in. 

     

    Richter scales

    I feel like a property developer, I have so may blogs. So many houses within which to live and write and paint. And I like it that way, I need space, I know that now. So, I’m keeping this blog – I reread this post tonight and it has reminded me why I started all this, way back.

    A very good friend is ill tonight. I wrote this while visiting her. While we all need a wake up call every now and then, the bell doesn’t have to jar the nerves quite so much.

    Architecture

    Architecture draws a line
    And gives ideas a form
    Turns concept into reality
    Gives shelter from the storm.

    It gives us strength, longevity
    And lets us make our mark.
    As buildings rise against the odds
    And stand life’s crises stark.

    A metaphor perhaps for us
    Good friends for years and years.
    not brick but loving flesh and bone
    You’re strong and straight and tall.

    And yet an earthquake shakes us all
    Foundations may fall weak
    That monument I know so well
    Is not so tough I see.

    You are a lintel in my life
    You help to hold me up
    And so I hope this tremor stops
    And serves to wake us up.

    I think of coffees, wine and fags
    And falling over drunk
    I think of sunrises and chat
    And seasides, surf and kids.

    Our friendship stands against this test
    Our architecture’s fine
    And I will always be so proud
    To say that friend is mine.

    View hallooo

    imageI’ve already written about the changes I’m seeing as a result of giving up work. Bear with me on this one guys, it’s a biggie for me. Anyways, today saw another step towards a better balance, well, two steps actually. I have rejoined my local quilting group, again. I have given it a go a few times but work always stymied it…but NO MORE!!! 

    Second step was buying some hockey sticks from the charidee today and teaching the boys a few moves. Elder is pretty good, we played for a while tonight, just the two of us. It was brilliant, real fun. He won and I was whacked but in a good way. 

    So, life changes again but I am going with it…enjoying the ride, shooting the breeze, loving it all. Xxx

    Six weeks

     

    The school doors at last are shut and locked up

    The alarm clock is quiet, we won’t get up

    For a while – tho’ the dawn chorus is loud, in full swing

    Nor will I be running wild, packing up the school things

    into bags, bleary eyed, rumpled, unironed, dishevelled.

    My sleep deprivation has a hope of being levelled.

    I will mooch,

    I will lounge,

    I will drape in the sun.

    i will put on my shades and watch the boys’ fun.

    Yes, I once was a wage slave

    I collected my shilling

    but now I am something much nicer, more fulfilling

    It’s hackneyed I know but it’s also quite thrilling –

    i draw and I paint and I see my boys grow

    I’m learning that I have to go with the flow

    so illness while scary isn’t all endless doom

    tho I will never enjoy cleaning up the bathroom

    My life  isn’t over it’s just changed a lot

    You can’t have it all

    but you can have a shot.