Tuesday 31 August 2010

Consideration

Readers of the Fox's blog will already know what a thoroughly enjoyable evening we had yesterday to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. What could be better than an excellent meal, a good bottle of bubbly, mellow sounds & good, loving, company?

When PD rang yesterday to congratulate us, I told him about all the noise we'd had to endure on the night before.

" But it was Sunday,"" he spluttered.

" That doesn't make any difference these days," I commented. " We live in irreligious days."

I have to confess I don't entirely regret the passing of the deadly quiet Sundays of my youth, so wonderfully captured in an episode of " Hancock's Half Hour". Then there was literally nothing to do, apart that is, from church. No shops, no TV, nothing. My usual Sunday was church in the morning, then doing the school homework I should have done before. (I always tended to leave homework to the last minute. There were more enjoyable distractions to do over a weekend.) Even when TV started to happen on a Sunday afternoon, there was usually a sport option & my father's passion for that took priority.

No, I don't regret that there are more things to do these Sundays. And I don't want to force my religious views on other people. But I do think they should have shown more consideration whatever the day, and especially night, may be, the more so when it was a Sunday when they could have been insulting someone else's religious views.

Monday 30 August 2010

Sound assault

I do wish people could be more considerate. By the yesterday afternoon the wind had blown itself out & the sun came a-visiting. We contemplated eating out in the garden but the cacophony of noise put us off. On one side of our garden there was a huge bouncy castle (we assume the balloon we found tethered to our potato plants had wafted in from here) accompanied by loud beating music. In another direction another party was clearly going on with a different taste in music but equally loud. Underlying this was the dull thud of the beat from the live band at our local pub. We decided to eat in, in comparative peace.

As the evening went on, the volume of noise grew. For part of the evening, we covered over the sound with some Louis Armstrong while we sipped some wine. At last music we could appreciate & to our taste. Eventually, after 11pm I had to yield & go to bed. Through the open window the beat from neighbours' parties invaded. In the end I had to give in & have a sleeping pill. Otherwise I would have just tossed & tossed, getting more & more worked up & agitated.

All this noise would have been more acceptable if we could just have been forewarned. Then we would have had the choice of going away to avoid it. At least we might have had some idea when it would stop, maybe even have had a bit of a nap earlier on to have kept me going until a later hour. I don't want to be a total spoil-sport & ban people from having parties. I want them to enjoy themselves. I just wish they could do it more quietly. Some people want some sleep. If nothing else I would have thought their own young children would want some peace to sleep!

Today, so far, all is blessedly quiet. Long may it continue.

Sunday 29 August 2010

A wild day

I was listening to the radio early this morning. They were talking about St Kilda. At one point they commented that the weird sound you could hear was the wind blowing. What weird sound, I thought. I couldn't hear anything for the howls & screeches from the wind outside the window, occasionally interrupted by the the slashing of the rain on the glass.

It's a wild day. It struck me the moment I saw the trees dancing in all directions. Most of the time I'm not aware that many of the trees in the back garden have a silvery underside. Today there's no denying it. Needless to say I've not ventured out to church in this mayhem.

Saturday 28 August 2010

A symbol of liberation

The Fox came back from his Carers' course yesterday. Apparently, at one point, he was asked whether I was permanently confined to a wheelchair. Now this is a phrasing that really gets to me, as he well knows. I am not, & never have been "confined" be a wheelchair. For me, a wheelchair is a source of liberation. Without it, I would never go out. I would never have visited so much of the world - no trips to France, Australia, Canada, Italy, Netherlands, not even to London, Harrogate or Edinburgh in Britain. I would never get to church, the Pub, the shops, the surgery, the dentist, optician etc. I would never have met so many people who have become my friends & given me so much love & support.

I remember well the visit which decided me a wheelchair was now a necessity. We visited the gardens at Grayrigg, in Cumbria. The garden is well laid out with loads of benches scattered around. I must have sat gratefully on every one of the seats. It became an endurance test as I hobbled from one seat to the next. On the way home, we stopped at a nearby pub for a bit of refreshment. By then I was in so much pain it had spoilt the whole visit. What is more, the pain continued at that high pitch for a couple of weeks after. Never again I thought. Next time I saw the GP I asked about a wheelchair, & have never regretted it.

When the Social Worker came the other week to assess us for some respite vouchers, she was surprised, & pleased, to hear that I
not only have a wheelchair, but I regularly go out in it. So many of her clients are so ashamed of the wheelchair, feel so horribly embarrassed, that they won't go out in it & use it except for essential medical trips. Maybe it's just that I was still in my late 30s/early 40s when I first got a wheelchair, too young to spend the rest of my life shut up inside or in such intense pain.

The Fox pointed all this out to the assembled group.

So here's to the wheelchair, a symbol of liberation.

Wednesday 25 August 2010

A useful day

Yesterday turned out to be a day for getting a few admin things sorted out.

First we went along to the library to organise my disabled parking Blue Badge. They've changed the system. You used to drop off the form, with photos, to the local Social Services office. Now it's done centrally, county-wide, in Preston. However, you do have the option of going to various libraries in the county. There you apply at a screen. You have a telephone to speak to the person you see on screen. There is a camera perched on top of the screen to take your photo at the appropriate time. There is a scanner on one side for you to scan your evidence of your entitlement. It is operated from their end. And there is a pressure pad where you sign & an image of your signature is recorded & transmitted to them. All very clever. Now we just have to wait for it to arrive in the post.

Having successfully made that application, we went on to Morecambe town hall. Here I applied for my new bus pass. And, for the first time, I was allowed to apply there for the special parking ticket for disabled council tax payers which is necessary to park in the pedestrianised area of Lancaster. Usually we've had to go into Lancaster town hall for this, which is a bit awkward as they use your Blue Badge as evidence of you entitlement & you need that to park while you pop into the town hall. (Traffic wardens in Lancaster are notoriously efficient at writing up parking tickets!) This extra parking ticket is useful as often the pedestrianised area is the only place you can park near the shops.

All done we set off to the Pub. It seemed strange being there without PD, but he was busy with grandfatherly duties. For a while we were the only two in the bar. Then came along Al, our gardener. We offered him our congratulations. It was the village horticultural show at the weekend and he did well. Indeed he won in 15 out of the 18 categories he entered. He also won a cup for the highest number of points scored by any single person in the show this year & the massive sum of £7.50. Well, we told him, that will at least buy you some seeds for next year. "Not likely," he replied, "The missus took it straight off me!"

All in all, a useful day rather than exciting one.

Tuesday 24 August 2010

Changes

I've decided on a simple omelette for dinner today. Well, maybe not so simple as I'm intending to add some cooked gammon & rice to it.

I thought I'd start by unearthing some of the Fox's wonderful home grown potatoes. I'd just located a couple of small ones & one big one when the skies began to open. I hastily put the potatoes back in the soil & covered them over. I wasn't about to get soaked unnecessarily. I could always peel our last remaining shop-bought old potatoes for chips.

Just as well I did. Since then it's poured down. The room became so dark I was tempted to put the lights on. A roll of thunder could be heard from the heavens.

It all seems so different from Sunday, when we were able to sit out in the garden to eat our dinner, enjoying the sun & warmth. Still that's England for you - rarely two days the same.

Monday 23 August 2010

Sunflowers

In the pot of sweet peas near the back door, a huge sunflower has appeared, self-seeded of course. It has been a source of great frustration to me. I've often fancied growing some sunflowers. They're big, bold and cheery. They also would provide plenty of free seeds for the birds. But, and this is a big but, whenever I've planted some seeds, the birds have as quickly dug them out & eaten them then & there. So it is with great amazement I view this specimen. It stands several feet tall. The flower is just opening up. It will be several inches across, cheery indeed.

Sunflowers I associate with two places above all. The first time I really appreciated them was when we were staying in the Loire valley. We drove up a hill to gain a view of the river below & of Chinon. Up there there were fields of sunflowers. It was autumn so they were starting to turn brown & dry, ready for harvesting for their oil. This was clearly a farmed field. The lines of flowers were just too regular for anything else. In French, we learnt, sunflowers are called "tournesol", because they turn (tourne) to the sun (le sol) throughout the day.

My next memory of them was at Gouda in the Netherlands. They have regular colourful markets there. One of the most spectacular stalls sold flowers. The sunflowers were splendid. Everyone seemed to be buying them. Homes throughout the area must have been decorated with them.

Saturday 21 August 2010

Celebrations

I've got it! I've got it! Those words have reverberated round our heads ever since I opened the post yesterday afternoon & discovered I've been awarded my Disability Living Allowance (DLA) at the same level as before. The sheer relief is wondrous. I slept my best sleep for weeks. Suddenly we can relax, make plans confident in our income. I'll have to got through the same hassle in another three years' time, but I can worry about that nearer the time. Maybe by then the political climate will be more favourable.

After the Fox's blog last week, I had decided to get a chicken to roast this week. Now it's going to turn into a celebratory meal. I've already parboiled the potatoes to roast up later. I've also made up the stuffing. I'm using an Armenian recipe, so the the stuffing is rice, rather than breadcrumb,
based. Along with the rice are onions, mushrooms, sultanas, walnuts, parsley & allspice. To serve with the roast chicken I will be making some mushroom gravy with a little brandy in it. Altogether a roast to celebrate with.

Thursday 19 August 2010

A dither & a rant

I've been all of a dither this morning. And I hate dithering.

The cause? The British weather. I had been hoping to get down to the fish shop today to buy some fresh prawns for a curry. However the Mean Machine (my electric scooter) doesn't like the wet.

When I got up all was dry outside. By the time I'd had a wash it was wet. I had breakfast - dry & turning sunny. Maybe after all I could go. I get my coat on, find some cash, get as far as the garage door & the sky turns grey & threatening. What to do? Go or not go?

I finally decided it is only sensible to get something out of the freezer instead. So I go back inside & get on with preparing some of the Fox's new potatoes to have with some salmon this evening. Well, it's still fish & probably better for us with all that omega-3 oil, than the cholesterol-filled prawns. Mind I'm still hoping to get the prawns for tomorrow instead. Needless to say, the rain has so far failed to materialise. Typical!

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I was perturbed to hear on Channel 4 news yesterday that they have now decided to read blogs & Facebook in the hope of catching out benefit frauds, especially when it comes to disability claims. Is this why I've still not heard about my DLA renewal? Should I be writing, if I continue to write this blog, crossing all the "t"s & dotting all the "i"s of the impact of disability on my life? What a bore to write & I should think what a bore for you, my readers, to read!


So let me state here & now, when I say I go for a walk, I mean I'm either in my wheelchair or the Mean Machine. Equally when I do something in the garden, I am usually sat on a wall, chair or stick/stool. The cooking is only done with the active support of the Fox. Showers are only undertaken when the Fox is around to help if I need him. Life is quiet, never much done, as the only way I can cope with things. And even then it would be impossible without someone, usually the Fox, being there to help, to get me up from chairs to go to the loo, to make me tea later in the day, to put me into bed. The bank & other administrative affairs are done by the Fox as I can no longer cope with the stress. Often I write in my blog that I hope to do things but that hope is often not achieved, but for me, that hope is a necessary coping strategy. Thoughts of suicide are never far from my mind, with the result the Fox is reluctant to leave me for long in case I make them into a reality. Without him working so hard to keep up my morale I would just sink into the pit of depression & not bother trying to get out.


Instead of writing about all this I tend to put a gloss on it, to concentrate on what I can do, not what I can't, for my sake as well as for yours. Just occasionally something gets to me. I have a particularly spectacular fall. I'm getting a lot of hassle with benefits. Something relating to disability changes in my life, then I will write about it. Being disabled doesn't have to mean being permanently a misery. Even suffering from depression doesn't mean that.

What, too, is not reflected is the amount of effort, & consequent pain & exhaustion endured, is necessary to do what I do. Equally I do not dwell on those consequences, such as, at the moment, I'm popping pain-killers like nobody's business & sleeping appallingly largely as a result of that DLA medical & the stress of still not hearing the outcome even though my DLA &, with it, my entitlement to a parking blue badge, disabled bus pass etc, all of which run out at the end of the month. The situation hasn't been helped having workmen in last week, having visits from the Occupational Therapist department, coping with the change of routine, & the stress of having a stranger in my home for 3 hours while the Fox does his Carers' course ( Don't get me wrong. I think he should go to the course. I dare say once I get a regular carer coming each week, which should happen from this week, things will get easier & less stressful.)


Having got all that off my chest I will now go back to writing about the more positive side of my life, about food & the garden with all its flora & fauna, of friends, of art, of trips out, of thoughts, of the whole myriad of wonders that can be life.

Wednesday 18 August 2010

A quiet day?!

Today is a quiet day for me, or so I thought. The Fox is doing the cooking. The joy of going down the freezer is the discovery of forgotten delights. So it is that today I've got out some diced venison for the Fox to make a venison & ale casserole. Should be good.

Which reminds me & somewhat at a tangent, I was bemused by something yesterday. I had a go at a word game on line in which you make up so many words out of the letters of another given word. Imagine my frustration when the word "ale" wasn't recognised by the dictionary. After that I was less surprised when their dictionary didn't recognise "ait", "tat" & "ain". This is clearly a dictionary only for the south of England! Presumably they don't have ale there.

Back to today.

As it was quiet I thought I'd get the ironing done out of the way. I was mid-pile to the sound of Radio 4, when I heard a knock at the front door. Upon investigation I discovered it was the man come to put up the extra grab rails for me. He wasn't very impressed by the rusting grab bar at the front door so he replaced that while he was at it. Nor did he trust the state of the toilet frame, also starting to rust, so that too has been replaced. At least that's one chore done, one less caller to expect.

I duly went back to finish the ironing before coming on here.

Tuesday 17 August 2010

Change of plans

I might have guessed. I had intended to go down to the fish shop in the Mean machine (my electric scooter) this morning, so, of course, it's raining. I've hastily changed my plans & got some minced lamb out of the freezer to make some meatballs with red onion mash instead. Oh well, it's a change from fish.

Al the gardener, too, will have had a change of plans. He was intending to come to do our garden today. Even if it stops raining soon, I don't expect he will be here. He knows our garden is pretty wet even in a drought - the greenest lawn in the area he reckons - so there's no point in thinking it will dry out that quick.

I suppose it was too much to ask for a third day of sunshine. It has even been fairly warm the last couple of days. It certainly would have been hot if there hadn't been that breeze with a cold edge blowing off the sea. Yesterday I enjoyed an hour sit out in the garden, keeping an eye on the drying washing, while reading the parish magazine. The July issue has finally arrived, a little late admittedly! And with it my article based on my blog about Matisse's chapel at Vence (see blog for 30 May 2010). My name in print at last!

Monday 16 August 2010

Salmon thoughts

We've been having salmon all weekend, first in the fishcakes, then in a kedgeree. Admittedly the latter was made with the "real" stuff, ie out of a tin, whilst the former was made from some fresh fillet.

Like most people of my generation, salmon came out of a tin in my youth. The fresh stuff was just too expensive unless you had the good fortune of a fishing friend, & we didn't have that. Whatever else you can say, fish farming has brought the price down considerably so that salmon is now cheaper than cod, the then all pervasive fish, & is in the price range of most people.

In the 1950s, when food was still in short supply even though rationing had officially finished. My Uncle John, who had a grocer's shop, always put aside tins of salmon & crab. He knew my mum loved them, so he kept such treats for her. Whenever we visited we came home laden with tins. Similarly, at Christmas, there arrived through the post a hamper, put together by Uncle John & his wife, full of such rare treats. That one usually also contained dates, figs & ginger, all things my mother adored but were hard to come by in those days. For my brother & I there was always chocolate treats for us. Fond memories.

Saturday 14 August 2010

An oasis of peace

I'm relieved the weekend has finally arrived. It's been an exhausting week, what with the central heating boiler & new hot water tank being installed, then yesterday an OT (occupational therapist) in the morning & a carer coming for three hours to look after me while the Fox went to his carers' course. Today nobody is due to call. It's our chance to once more have our home to ourselves, to get the laundry room sorted once more, to just relax bit.

Despite the Fox's broad hint in his blog yesterday, we're not having a roast. He was somewhat mollified when he heard what I had decided to make - homemade salmon fishcakes. He wanted above all comfort food & what could be more comforting & homely than that? They're all breaded, sitting in the fridge ready to fry up this evening.

The next onslaughts will be when the central heating people return to pebbledash the wall where the old flu used to exit, to make it more in keeping with the rest of the building. We're also expecting someone to come to put in some extra grab rails, one in the bathroom & one to replace the rusting one at the laundry entrance. Then too there's the tree surgeon to trim our trees. It's all go, but at least we've got the weekend as an oasis of peace to get our breath back.

Thursday 12 August 2010

A long day

How blessedly quiet it seems today after yesterday! They eventually left just after 7pm. We then had to leave the central heating full on, thermostat set at 30, for a further 2 hours, to make sure the system settled in.

By 2pm, the need for a loo had become imperative, not to mention the urge to have something to drink. It's a long time to go with no bathroom door for privacy & no water to flush. We asked if it was okay if we went out for a couple of hours. They agreed. We left a mobile phone number in case of emergency. (Thank goodness, too, for that bit of modern technology.) Off we went first to Morrisons & their loos. Once that was done, we arranged to meet PD for a couple of hours at the Pub.

By the time we left there we felt more able to cope with the home invasion. We stopped at Morrisons again on the way home just in case the water wasn't back on. That took longer than expected. I waited 15 minutes outside the locked disabled toilet. In the end the Fox went to get assistance as we feared someone had collapsed inside & was lying unconscious. It was empty. The store reckoned some youths had discovered a way of locking it from the outside as a prank. I didn't wait for the explanation. I just hastily got inside.

Home, we discovered the water was just going on. The job was done. They just had to get the boiler fired up - a harder task than expected because of the number of air-locks, they'd already been trying since 4pm - & to finish tidying up.

They will be back later today to brick up the hole in the wall where the vent from the old boiler used to be & to check all went well. But that won't be until this afternoon.

Faced with the prospect of sweltering through 2 hours of semi-tropical heat, we decided to go down to our local village pub for a meal. And a very good chicken & ham pie it was too. When we got home we flung open all the windows, letting a cold gale blow through the building. The moment it reached 9pm the heating went off. The windows stayed open.

Now we just have to get ourselves sorted out. All the clutter that usually inhabits the laundry room can go back, though I'm not entirely sure where just yet as a shelf has had to be removed in the process & it can't go back where it was. The airing cupboard base also needs filling with its clutter of cleaning things, loo paper etc.

But life will get back to normal. And, hopefully, come the winter, all the hassle will seem worthwhile.

One good thing did get done. We managed to find someone to come & sit with me on Friday so the Fox will be able to go to his carers' course on Friday without having to worry about how I'm managing. He is reluctant to leave me long on my own for fear I'll have an accident or not be able to get up from the loo etc. The course organisers will pay, so we don't even have to worry about the cost, though we had arranged to get some free respite vouchers from the council to pay ourselves. Still they may come in useful another time, when the Fox wants to do something or is ill himself.

Wednesday 11 August 2010

Chaos

And so the chaos begins.

I suppose it really began yesterday when we had a phone call to the effect that the people who were doing the boiler were finishing the previous job early so would be round that afternoon about 1pm. We hastily cleared out the laundry room, where the boiler is. Then we waited. And waited. Two hours later we rang to find out what was happening. Eventually they turned up.

They just reconnoitred the place & brought the new boiler in. As it was nearly 4pm they didn't think it was worth starting that day as it would mean us being without water overnight.

So here they are today, only a quarter of an hour late. Someone was obviously late up as they sat eating & drinking in the van before coming in.

Noise now abounds so if I seem distracted you know what it is. Water is off. Radiators & taps are draining. The bathroom door is off its hinges.

Chaos as I say.


Tuesday 10 August 2010

A change for the worse

It's small things that really irritate you.

Yesterday the Fox popped along to the pet shop for some more wild bird food. They sell it by the kilo in heat sealed plastic bags.

So this morning I go to feed the birds. As usual I put the feeder in a carrier bag - experience has taught me it's easier that way otherwise seed always overspills everywhere. I fight with the heat seal as usual. A bit of seed comes out, some into the feeder, some in the bag. I try to move the hand position.

At this point the seed bag splits in two, a great tear down the length of it - a kilo of bird food all over the stone wall, cascading down to the fall. Well, I'm sorry the birds aren't having all that in one day. They probably wouldn't want that much anyway & it would encourage rats & other vermin just leaving it there. So I then spend a while scraping up as much as I can.

Now, why can't they just use a heavier gauge plastic bag to fill with seed, something a bit easier to use to pour the seed straight into the feeder? They used to use paper bags, so much easier & what's more you could put the empty bag in for recycling! Instead these plastic bags seem to be getting ever more flimsy & subject to splitting vertically. Grr...

Monday 9 August 2010

More joyous things

The time has come to turn my attention to more joyous things, you'll be relieved to hear.

Last night, in the midst of eating the excellent Kipper & Egg Kedgeree the Fox had made, I suddenly noticed the sweet peas in the vase on the table move. I thought at first I was seeing things. But no, there was a bright green caterpillar looping its way from under the petals. Dinner was briefly adjourned as he was helped out of the door.

Even more marvellous, the ligularia has opened out its first flower. A hint of gold has been emerging from the chocolate leaves for some time now. When I planted it last year, the flowers were already over so this is the first time I've seen it come into bloom. The rich gold is stunning. It echoes the rather yellower gold of the troilus (globeflower) which has also decided to have a second bloom this year.

In the midst is the hydrangea. It, too, has decided to flower. Admittedly I planted a deep blue one & it is now a bright pink one. I'm not complaining. I'm just glad it's survived the winter. For a long time it continued to look a gonner, & even now it is a considerably smaller plant than it was last year when I planted it.

I did venture briefly down to the rockery. There I nearly stood on a small frog just a couple of inches big. He hastily hopped away.

Out in the front garden the echinacea is doing well. We now have 3 pink flowers. The petals are beginning to bend back. It amazes me how hard, rather dry feeling & sharp, the central cone is - a bit like a teasel. I'm glad I left that "weed" in. The bees are still buzzing around the oregano, though they are moving their interest a bit to the fennel.

I've just had a phone call from the tree surgeon, suggesting coming around tonight to look at the trees that need some trimming. We're hoping to get a bit more light in, while placating one of our neighbour at the same time.

Hopefully he will also be able to do something with the trees of our neighbour on the other side. He has one that's dead & one on its last legs. Both he feels are dangerous, but he's been told there's a tree preservation order on them. Hopefully something can be done to make them safe before they come crashing down into our garden.

Life's getting back to normal, more in balance.

Sunday 8 August 2010

I'm not just nuts!

I'm feeling quite jubilant today. The reason? I've remembered something.

The thing that really got to me at this medical was I went away with the feeling that the doctor thought I had no physical reason to justify the pain I feel. It was all in my mind. I suppose that impression has been festering away at the back of my mind.

Last night we watched a recording of the first of the new "Sherlock" series on BBC1. Regardless of the romp of the story, one of the things was the suggestion that Dr Watson's limp, & consequent need for a stick, was psychosomatic. Sure enough, as the programme went on, he was able to forget his stick & run over vast areas of London, up & down stairs. That would seem to indeed be psychosomatic.

Is this the case with me? I can occasionally keep going for a while on my legs, especially if I am distracted eg in the garden. Certainly over the years I've struggled with GPs who can't see anything wrong, not even on X-rays. So is it just imagined? The doctor at this medical asked if the "mild" depression was the result of, or the precursor to, the physical problems. Presumably he wondered if for some reason I maybe have a self-image in which I am handicapped, in an emotional pain that is causing me to project that pain on to my physical self. I've asked myself this before now, & ended up with the conclusion whether it is real or imagined, to me it is every bit as real, as painful, as if it has a physical cause & brings all the resultant difficulties, so it doesn't really matter. What is more, if such medical men are right in their beliefs I clearly need psychological help to effect a cure which none have suggested.

However, this morning I woke up remembering three incidents. The first was the first time I saw a specialist at the hospital. He observed me as I walked into the consulting room. He then told me what I was feeling & he was correct. He reckoned it was one of the worst cases of the condition he had ever seen & put me at the top of his non-emergency list for operations.

The second incident was a few years later. By this time my first specialist had retired so I was with a new, younger man. I think he wasn't entirely convinced I was as bad as I'd said. All that changed when he operated. I'd told him my knees got badly inflamed. When he operated they flared up, so much so they'd almost been too hot for him to handle. From then on he became a far more sympathetic doctor.

The next incident I remembered was when I privately paid for a consultation & report from another eminent surgeon in the field. (At the time I needed some medical evidence to support my then struggle to get DLA.) By this time, I'd become a part-time wheelchair user. After his examination, he was amazed I could walk at all. Most patients with knees as bad as mine gave up long before.

In all these cases, the specialists, all leading men in their field who gave international lectures on the subject, reacted spontaneously without my putting any pressure on. For them to have done so in this way suggests to me there is a real cause for the pain. I cannot believe, under anaesthetic, I could have projected that heat with just a nutty mind. With that I feel I can hold my head up high once more. It's the less qualified doctors stupidity & ignorance, not my assertions. I'm not just making a fuss about nothing. I'm not just some sort of nutty fraud.

Saturday 7 August 2010

The hunt

I'm in a bit of a state. I usually take rings off when I'm preparing food. I've just been par-cooking some potatoes to saute later. I went to put my rings back on & I cannot find them. I've looked in the apron pocket, my normal place. No. All kitchen surfaces? No. The dining table? No. I've even checked they're not still on the side of the bath where I put them when I have my morning wash, but no. While the potatoes were cooking I ventured into the garden for some mint, & to feed the birds. Could they have dropped out of the pocket? No sign.

I'm telling myself to calm down. The Fox, my normal Sherlock, will quickly find them.

The fact I have mislaid them, I suspect is due to my general mental dis-ease after that medical. I still don't feel I've entirely recovered from the experience. I still feel distracted & absent-minded. My concentration is shot.

Oh, why oh why, did I have to have it? All it seems to have achieved is unsettle everything, making things even harder to cope with. And they don't even see the consequences!

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It's nearly an hour later now, & I've found them! Three cheers.

Where? Well might you ask. I finally decided to locate some wine for dinner tonight. There, in the basket where we keep garlic & keys, were my wedding & engagement rings. What they were doing there I have absolutely no idea, but I'm overjoyed to have found them & hastily put them on.





Friday 6 August 2010

Friends

Thank goodness for friends. And thanks to those of my friends who have sent their support & good wishes on-line.

Yesterday we went to the Pub, more because Al, our gardener had called on Wednesday & we hadn't paid him, rather than because we, in particular I, felt like going. En route we picked up PD. The Pub as so often these days was virtually empty.

By the time PD had regaled us with his adventures to the gym in the morning - the lift had broken down so he'd had to climb up all the steep steps to the fifth floor, wheezing madly with his asthma - we were all weeping with laughter & some of the tension was broken.

He'd then gone on about his enthusiasm for the work of Magritte & his urge to see some Dali originals, & we'd remembered the Magritte we'd seen in the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art in Edinburgh on a memorable visit in the company of another very dear friend, & reader, Malcolm.

By this time life was getting more into perspective. I can't say I've entirely recovered from the experience but I am a lot better & able to contemplate once more the possibility of doing things, like cooking (Caesar salad tonight), of continuing to persevere despite the likes of that "doctor".

I sometimes feel I've written harshly about PD. He can be selfish, self-centred, cantankerous, demanding, but he can also be a true friend & this time he proved to be just that. I supposed I half-guessed that when he asked on the phone how it had gone. I'd replied "Terrible," & his instant reaction was "But you can't walk!" Oh he's seen me walk a few steps but he doesn't regard that as normal walking & he has no doubt that I'm not just putting it on. His disbelief at what some of my "medical" involved was tangible.

All in all, God bless friends. They are beyond price. Thank you to you all.

Thursday 5 August 2010

That medical

Well, that was a disaster. I shall be very surprised if the DLA is granted on that medical. The doctor didn't believe there was any real cause why I should feel such pain. What is more, he had no appreciation of mental health problems. As far as he was concerned as long as I could smile when I greeted him I couldn't possibly be severely depressed. The fact that I was brought up to hide my feelings & always obey the social courtesies such as smiling regardless of how you are feeling, especially with strangers such as him, he regarded as irrelevant.

We never got to the Lancaster market. By the time we got out all I wanted to do was to get home & have a good cry. PD had suggested he could join us at the Pub to let off steam, but I couldn't face society, not even friends.

I'm left now feeling limp. My crime seems to be fighting to keep going, & maybe too just accepting my disability. As far as the latter is concerned I don't see any point in wasting time & taxpayers' money pestering doctors, be it my GP or hospital specialists, when I have already been told nothing more can be done. Oh yes, I could have further ops, but that would mean further ops every few years for the rest of my life with diminishing returns in results & I almost certainly would not be able to fully straighten either leg, making balance & walking impossible. If the pain became so bad I couldn't cope any more then to return. I have found by adapting my life, using aids such as a wheelchair, having the assistance & support of others, in particular the Fox, I can cope at the moment although I am aware my physical health is continuing to deteriorate.

What really gets to me is I know if I was a moaner, the sort of person who refused to do anything because of the pain, I would of passed this medical with ease. Instead I've continued to do exercises at the gym & physiotherapy, to endeavour
to maintain some muscle use. I continue to try to be as independent as I can, to try to do things for myself where possible even if in doing so I'm being foolhardy & often land flat on my face literally. But that attitude seems to be one to condemn rather than encourage.

I'm left now feeling very subdued. I wonder why I bother to try, even if it's worth trying. I'm feel even more like a parasite depending "unreasonably" on others, on the Fox in particular, blighting his life, expecting society to care for me without paying it back in any way, just a self-indulgent lazy scrounger.

And none of this alters the fact I still can't walk & need help & that necessitates a certain amount of money to buy & maintain a car/electric scooter, paying for some help & to compensate the Fox for the wages he feels unable to earn as I can not cope on my own all day & night.

Wednesday 4 August 2010

The day has arrived

Well, the day has arrived. We'll be off to Lancaster this afternoon. Meanwhile this morning I'm back to waiting. We got a phone call from some people connected to those who are installing our new central heating boiler. They wanted to come round this morning to check if there was any asbestos that needed removing when the old boiler is taken out. So, as if I'm not tense enough, I've now got a morning of waiting.

If it stops raining, I am hoping to get out & maybe tidy the front garden. A few extra plants are appearing, the weed variety. I'd also like to put in a few parsley seeds

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Good heavens. The man's just been. He'll be back next week when the new boiler is installed. He seemed astounded by how ancient our old boiler is. He was just a young man. I should think the boiler was older than him!

Still, at least, that means the morning is my own to do as I will. The rain is even easing so I may get out in the garden. Anything to avoid thinking about this medical.

I'm not preparing food today. I'm not sure what state I will be in by this evening. Even the Fox is reluctant to commit to cooking much today. We'll either eat out, get a takeaway or microwave a Booths' frozen ready meal.

We didn't get over to Glasson Dock yesterday, so we're hoping to pop along to the street market in Lancaster while we're in town & visit the Smokehouse stall. We're also curious to see if the fresh fish stall is around. He's ceased coming to the Morecambe Farmers' Market.

We rarely go into Lancaster. It may be nearby, just a few miles away, but the hassle gets to us. The one way system & the parking is dreadful. The chance to get along to the market was one of the few pleasures of going to my empty chair (dramatherapy) sessions. Now those are over we're back to going into Lancaster a couple of times of year & that's it.


Tuesday 3 August 2010

A food hunt

As we left the Pub yesterday, Al, our gardener, called out he would be at our place today. Talk about wishful thinking & tempting fate. Needless to say it's been raining all morning. I somehow doubt we'll see Al today.

However, we are contemplating a quick trip to Glasson Dock. This small village the other side of Lancaster has one great attraction for us - the Smokehouse. They smoke there all manner of foods, from the obvious of salmon (which we're hoping to buy) to duck and even prawns. On top of that they usually have a good selection of game, some fabulous pates & some wonderful chocolates. Admittedly they are due to attend Lancaster market tomorrow & we will have to go into Lancaster tomorrow for my medical, but it would be a bit of trip out & a distraction from my anxiety of today. I admit, though, my enthusiasm for the trip is waning a bit as I hear the rain slashing on the window. Still maybe it will stop in time to go out this afternoon.

We're certainly going to make the effort to get over to Booth's supermarket, either in Lancaster on the way back from Glasson, or in Carnforth, a quieter trip. I'm on the hunt for some wild mushrooms to have with the fillet steak salad we're having for dinner today. How's that for a last fling of extravagance?!

I could also do with buying some peaches. I bought some when last we went to the shop specifically for a salsa to accompany some fish. Unfortunately the fruit ripened faster than I got around to buying the fish, so I just ate them. It's ages since I last bought fresh peaches. I thoroughly enjoyed them as the juice gushed down my chin, so I think I'll get some more if only for eating. It's strange how you sometimes forget just how delicious some things can be.

Monday 2 August 2010

Fears

I'm on the go slow at the moment. The "hectic" life is catching up with me. Still, I'm telling myself, if I look exhausted it's no bad thing with this medical coming up soon.

What didn't help is that on Friday night I finally analysed one of the reasons for my fear of the medical. The last time I had one I was asked a question that stunned & terrified me.

"Imagine you are in the middle of a field. A rabid dog is running to attack you. What would you do?" the doctor asked.

I was stunned. The one thing I couldn't do is run. Mind you, even at the peak of my youthful fitness I don't think I could have outrun a dog. My only conclusion was to either try some calming words in the hope the dog wasn't really rabid, just a guard dog in attack mode, or curl up on the ground and hope to protect my face & more sensitive parts. Either way I suspect I would have come out pretty badly mauled & bloody.

I suppose I've always been a bit afraid of unknown unaccompanied barking dogs. I suppose it began when I saw a friend's dog bite another child. Admittedly he had been teased pretty mercilessly so I can't blame him & it was just a nip, but it did frighten me & make me realise how savage a dog can be. Since then the anxiety has been encouraged by hearing of people being attacked, even killed, by pit bull terriers & the like.

But the real anxiety aroused by the question, the reason why the question still haunts me, is that it made me realise my sheer vulnerability & total lack of independence. The idea of being so dependant on others, even the Fox, frightens me. Most of the time I can kid myself I can still do things myself, but most of the time the reality is I can't, not without the support & assistance of the Fox. From there it doesn't take a lot for me to begin to feel like some sort of parasite on society & to question whether I have any value these days. The vicious circle of depression sets in.

Having finally voiced this phobia to the Fox, I soon after went to bed. I put on the radio as usual to be greeted by a programme discussing disturbing scenes in horror movies. That did nothing for my state of anxiety. In the end I had to call out to the Fox for reassurance before I could settle to sleep.

I hope they don't raise another such stupid question this time around. And it really is a stupid question as I don't see how I could have landed up in the middle of the field in the first place. Was I air-winched there?

Oh by the way, it was good news for Den. Whatever the cause of Den's problem, it isn't cancer, which they feared so much. Our prayers have obviously been answered.