Sunday, 26 June 2011
Monday, 25 April 2011
playing ....
...the worlds smallest violin
I don't want to write this blog, I've put if off for days - I don't want "Oh you poor thing", "Oh sweetheart/hunni/*insert your own term of endearment*", or anything else barely resembling pity or *hugs*, don't get me wrong, I am hugely indebted to all the support I have and am being given and am little overwhlemed by it all - especially when someone offers to bunk off work and drive for 6 hours just to get me to a hospital appt, but what I don't want/ can't bear is lip service sympathy and so I say very little about my situation in terms of just how it affects daily life .. I may be a lot of things, but sad arsed moping emo I am not, yes this is now my life but I'm far from a poor thing, so please don't go there x
For reasons I don't feel the need to go in to, I'm not going to explain just how this thing started - except to say that on that night, the word no was ignored and from there to here my joints and bones have been slowly falling in to disrepair, a domino effect if you will - and the easiest way to begin explaining it is to drop in a pretty diagram ...
Every red arrow is an area of my pelvic region that is now fucked up beyond all recognition and what the diagram isn't showing is the other body parts affected by my "tilt", my knees are now taking more stress due to the lack of support for my spine, my achillies tendons are ready to snap due to the pressure they're now under .. the plus point is that while my shoulders now hate me, I am developing biceps that would rival popeyes as I now walk full time on crutches and my arms have become my "legs"
So that's the physical bit, old age came early to me
Several people recently have told me off for not admiting half of this, for keeping information to a minimum and for being too stubborn to say when it hurts or if I need help, trouble is, if I were to say when it hurts, that's all I would say and I cannot be that person, neither could I talk about having a teeny amount of surgery a few weeks ago or go in to any great detail about the sudden panic that I could have been growing more than a few extra facial hairs due to the PCOS.
Turns out, I'd been over doing it on the painkillers and pissed off my kidneys but while I was publically posting bucket lists and whatif tomorrow never comes blogs simply because it scared me just how unready I am for anything, there was a big fuss being made in the background questioning if something was growing in my back as I was losing limb sensation, was pretty sick all of the time and apparently was displaying rather alarming symptoms - gotta love the NHS, for everyones bitching about waiting lists and poor conditions, I can honestly say that the medics who have looked after me have been absolutely bloody brilliant - but I couldnt say anything to my friends, the bastard big C affects so many of them and I couldn't bring myself to say anything until I had all the facts.
So "how am I?" - in pain and terrified of what the future holds, pinning all of my hopes on sucessful treatment and rehab and very much looking forward to not losing sensation in my legs again - thats one freaking feeling, of not being too scared to stand up, of not being in fear of falling over and of throwing away the crutches and walking tall again.
I have been bloody miserable of late, so many things I have taken for granted are now out of reach, I'm back under psyc care because I have been suicidal for a while now - another reason I've not talked openly about how I feel .. no-one wants to hear "ready to give up" as a reply - it's not that I want to die, I'm just so tired of pain, of inability and of failure. I sit and read about friends going out, doing things, inviting me to join them and I just can't - hell, bathtime is an event all by itself I simply don't have it in me to go out and do things anymore.
I don't feel safe, I dont feel comfortable or confident and so I just don't. And I know that does me no favours long term, I tried going out today, had a panic attack before I'd even got out of bed just thinking about it but went and promptly spent 20 minutes trying to come up with a reaosn to get home as soon as possible. I am ashamed of that, I was five minutes away from home, sitting in a park on a glorious day but I couldn't breath and ended up bribing the boys with ice cream to get back to my sanctuary - as much as I let myself down with my depressive state, the boys suffer more so
They are so fantastic, they help out on chores I can no longer manage on my own, they bring cups of tea and a bucket on bad days, rub my back and help me up when I need a hand and make me cry in awe of just how incrediblely understanding of this situation they are - but its so unfair on them and my friends and family too who have to put up with me whinging and moaning on how life is - so thats why, when you ask .. how you doing, I'll do that thing whereby I say something about how lovely the weather/day is and reverse the question thus avoiding actually answering it because truth is .. right now, every day is a struggle, physically and emotionally, getting out of bed is an artform, functioning through the day without getting stoned off my tits on morphine is tiring, I hate the patheticness I've become.
I don't want to write this blog, I've put if off for days - I don't want "Oh you poor thing", "Oh sweetheart/hunni/*insert your own term of endearment*", or anything else barely resembling pity or *hugs*, don't get me wrong, I am hugely indebted to all the support I have and am being given and am little overwhlemed by it all - especially when someone offers to bunk off work and drive for 6 hours just to get me to a hospital appt, but what I don't want/ can't bear is lip service sympathy and so I say very little about my situation in terms of just how it affects daily life .. I may be a lot of things, but sad arsed moping emo I am not, yes this is now my life but I'm far from a poor thing, so please don't go there x
For reasons I don't feel the need to go in to, I'm not going to explain just how this thing started - except to say that on that night, the word no was ignored and from there to here my joints and bones have been slowly falling in to disrepair, a domino effect if you will - and the easiest way to begin explaining it is to drop in a pretty diagram ...
Every red arrow is an area of my pelvic region that is now fucked up beyond all recognition and what the diagram isn't showing is the other body parts affected by my "tilt", my knees are now taking more stress due to the lack of support for my spine, my achillies tendons are ready to snap due to the pressure they're now under .. the plus point is that while my shoulders now hate me, I am developing biceps that would rival popeyes as I now walk full time on crutches and my arms have become my "legs"
So that's the physical bit, old age came early to me
Several people recently have told me off for not admiting half of this, for keeping information to a minimum and for being too stubborn to say when it hurts or if I need help, trouble is, if I were to say when it hurts, that's all I would say and I cannot be that person, neither could I talk about having a teeny amount of surgery a few weeks ago or go in to any great detail about the sudden panic that I could have been growing more than a few extra facial hairs due to the PCOS.
Turns out, I'd been over doing it on the painkillers and pissed off my kidneys but while I was publically posting bucket lists and whatif tomorrow never comes blogs simply because it scared me just how unready I am for anything, there was a big fuss being made in the background questioning if something was growing in my back as I was losing limb sensation, was pretty sick all of the time and apparently was displaying rather alarming symptoms - gotta love the NHS, for everyones bitching about waiting lists and poor conditions, I can honestly say that the medics who have looked after me have been absolutely bloody brilliant - but I couldnt say anything to my friends, the bastard big C affects so many of them and I couldn't bring myself to say anything until I had all the facts.
So "how am I?" - in pain and terrified of what the future holds, pinning all of my hopes on sucessful treatment and rehab and very much looking forward to not losing sensation in my legs again - thats one freaking feeling, of not being too scared to stand up, of not being in fear of falling over and of throwing away the crutches and walking tall again.
I have been bloody miserable of late, so many things I have taken for granted are now out of reach, I'm back under psyc care because I have been suicidal for a while now - another reason I've not talked openly about how I feel .. no-one wants to hear "ready to give up" as a reply - it's not that I want to die, I'm just so tired of pain, of inability and of failure. I sit and read about friends going out, doing things, inviting me to join them and I just can't - hell, bathtime is an event all by itself I simply don't have it in me to go out and do things anymore.
I don't feel safe, I dont feel comfortable or confident and so I just don't. And I know that does me no favours long term, I tried going out today, had a panic attack before I'd even got out of bed just thinking about it but went and promptly spent 20 minutes trying to come up with a reaosn to get home as soon as possible. I am ashamed of that, I was five minutes away from home, sitting in a park on a glorious day but I couldn't breath and ended up bribing the boys with ice cream to get back to my sanctuary - as much as I let myself down with my depressive state, the boys suffer more so
They are so fantastic, they help out on chores I can no longer manage on my own, they bring cups of tea and a bucket on bad days, rub my back and help me up when I need a hand and make me cry in awe of just how incrediblely understanding of this situation they are - but its so unfair on them and my friends and family too who have to put up with me whinging and moaning on how life is - so thats why, when you ask .. how you doing, I'll do that thing whereby I say something about how lovely the weather/day is and reverse the question thus avoiding actually answering it because truth is .. right now, every day is a struggle, physically and emotionally, getting out of bed is an artform, functioning through the day without getting stoned off my tits on morphine is tiring, I hate the patheticness I've become.
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Dear Liza ..
My bucket list ... things to do before I die, in no particular order
the list may continue to grow
- learn to horse-ride
- attend a proper dirty rock gig
- rally drive
- swim in the Indian ocean
- learn to knit
- abseil down Trevallen
- grow a Hydrangea bush
- go on a Tidy Weekender
- drive a tank
- pillion on a motorbike
- watch The Winter's Tale at the RSC
- holiday on Kos
- spend a weekend in an expensive hotel
- go pike fishing at Bosherton Lake
- travel on the Orient Express
- play bogeys with the boys in St Paul's
- take mum shrimping at Minnis Bay
- go kart down Meyrick St
- drink Guinness in Ireland
- ride a bike down Gold Hill
- take the boys to London
- stand on top of Snowdon
- go down a coal mine
- roller skate through Ricnmond Park
- fuck on the marble table in county hall
- go to the BBB
- buy a kiln
- hear dad say he is happy
- drive a bus
- eat an authentic tikka
- do a filthy/grungy b&w photo shoot in a wedding dress
- go to a music festival
- drink beer in Germany
- live on a canal boat
- have a party/ go out for dinner on my birthday
- build an aviary
- explore Doone country
- finish my coursework
- open a tea shop
the list may continue to grow
Sunday, 27 March 2011
Spring
So, spring is officially here, the clocks have gone forward - time marches on.
I haven't blogged for a while, I've got a few drafts saved but nothing publishable and I have my reasons for that - most of them are music links mixed in with a couple of bucket list thoughts and one was a full on, I'm off my tits on morphine and frankly don't give a flying fuck rant - about people using status updates to say how they are or to read up on how someone is - instead of actually pausing to call and ask or say.
Life has been rather chaotic of late, my social life now consists of more medical people and hospital appointments than my little diary can handle, my body has never been so in demand and my brain has become a little bit frazzled with it all. To unwind - I've been youtubing my ass off but there is also a purpose to it.
While putting my 'house in order' it struck me that scribbled notes and photographs simply aren't enough to keep memories alive and so I'm now on a mission to compile an audiable history. I want my boys to hear the music we used to slow dance to at 3am when they were colicky, remember the songs we used to sing along loudly to in the car and listen to the tunes that marked lifes occasions and with the help of a little bit of software and a microphone, I'm adding my own unique touch to some of those.
Some may consider it a rather morbid thing to be doing, but for now it's giving me a direction - some things can't be put off until the magical 'tomorrow' and so that is where I've been of late, in bed with the laptop - giving the speakers a thorough spring clean.
And to one of my dearest friends, for all of your support and time ... this is for you, thank you xx
I haven't blogged for a while, I've got a few drafts saved but nothing publishable and I have my reasons for that - most of them are music links mixed in with a couple of bucket list thoughts and one was a full on, I'm off my tits on morphine and frankly don't give a flying fuck rant - about people using status updates to say how they are or to read up on how someone is - instead of actually pausing to call and ask or say.
Life has been rather chaotic of late, my social life now consists of more medical people and hospital appointments than my little diary can handle, my body has never been so in demand and my brain has become a little bit frazzled with it all. To unwind - I've been youtubing my ass off but there is also a purpose to it.
While putting my 'house in order' it struck me that scribbled notes and photographs simply aren't enough to keep memories alive and so I'm now on a mission to compile an audiable history. I want my boys to hear the music we used to slow dance to at 3am when they were colicky, remember the songs we used to sing along loudly to in the car and listen to the tunes that marked lifes occasions and with the help of a little bit of software and a microphone, I'm adding my own unique touch to some of those.
Some may consider it a rather morbid thing to be doing, but for now it's giving me a direction - some things can't be put off until the magical 'tomorrow' and so that is where I've been of late, in bed with the laptop - giving the speakers a thorough spring clean.
And to one of my dearest friends, for all of your support and time ... this is for you, thank you xx
Friday, 11 March 2011
Sunshine
It's another gloriously beautiful spring morning, even the daffodils look a more intense shade of yellow today.
For so many years now, the sight of that flower has filled me with a deep sadness, most people have carnations or lillies at funerals - my friends and family however, seem to have a thing for the daffodil.
March through to May have so many anniversaries to acknowledge, my mother and I paused for a while during a conversation the other day, in recognition of daffodil season and then we discussed the sobering fact that we're running out of people to loose. I've yet to decide if it's better to know its coming or be woken up in the middle of the night by the phone ringing, this year - this year there are two 'candidates' already lined up and then yesterday came a panicked phone call and a night of waiting. Thankfully everything was ok but I'm beginning to think that I should hibernate until June.
This year however, I'm also more aware of my own mortality. Everything around me is more intense, more amplified and as I've walked past those daffs each day, watching them grow until a few days ago when they opened up to blow their perfectly formed trumpets, I've been consciously planning, organising and making mental notes of things in my life I need to put in order.
I have, what some call a twisted perception of death. I feel mourning the loss of someone to be a totally selfish moment in time - the body is a mere receptacle, a host for a soul rather than the complete person and yes it's painful when someone dies, but that grief strikes me as bitter resentment for the loss of a physical representation of a person rather than for their spirit and while I don't for one moment believe there is a right or wrong way to let go of a loved one, for me personally - death is never an end.
That said, while planning my own 'exit', I'm incredibly aware that every person manages their grief in a different way and it is not my place to impose my own beliefs on those around me - but it's making for some interesting decision making.
I find funeral protocol absurd - everyone has to wear black and be sad? what is that about? we celebrate birth, why shouldn't we celebrate death? There is a time and place for everything, but at my own funeral I don't want sombre, I don't want black and I don't want silence. I want my ashes packed in to a series of fireworks and to go out with one final fucking good bang.
Ok, so the sudden demise of someone is a massive shock - but surely it shouldn't take death to bring forth an outpouring of emotion, we're all guilty of taking people for granted to a certain level, we're all a bit frightened of dying, put what is the one absolute guaranteed moment in our lives to the back of our mind and hope to just fall asleep in our bed, having danced the previous day away partying on our 99th birthday - but we are all going to die at some point, I don't understand why it takes for someones heart to stop for those that care to say out loud the things they should be saying while that heart still beats.
I am truly blessed in my life, it's taken a while to realise it - but even with the crappy health issues and my odd emo moments, I actually have it all. I like me, I'm perfectly content and happy with who I am (even the big feet), I have, not only the most insanely funny friends and family around me but also, 3 boys who are growing up to be amazing young men with their own strength and integrity that leaves me breathless, I'm loved and love in return, passionately, unreservedly and completely. I don't need for anything and I have no regrets.
So when my time comes, do not stand by a wooden box and weep for the body encased within - I am not there, that is not me. Do not grieve for a life complete or mourn the loss of time to say all of those unspoken things. I'm still here, just no longer in direct line of sight and you don't have to whisper words of goodbye because I'm being all ethereal in your secret drawers and haven't left your life.
For so many years now, the sight of that flower has filled me with a deep sadness, most people have carnations or lillies at funerals - my friends and family however, seem to have a thing for the daffodil.
March through to May have so many anniversaries to acknowledge, my mother and I paused for a while during a conversation the other day, in recognition of daffodil season and then we discussed the sobering fact that we're running out of people to loose. I've yet to decide if it's better to know its coming or be woken up in the middle of the night by the phone ringing, this year - this year there are two 'candidates' already lined up and then yesterday came a panicked phone call and a night of waiting. Thankfully everything was ok but I'm beginning to think that I should hibernate until June.
This year however, I'm also more aware of my own mortality. Everything around me is more intense, more amplified and as I've walked past those daffs each day, watching them grow until a few days ago when they opened up to blow their perfectly formed trumpets, I've been consciously planning, organising and making mental notes of things in my life I need to put in order.
I have, what some call a twisted perception of death. I feel mourning the loss of someone to be a totally selfish moment in time - the body is a mere receptacle, a host for a soul rather than the complete person and yes it's painful when someone dies, but that grief strikes me as bitter resentment for the loss of a physical representation of a person rather than for their spirit and while I don't for one moment believe there is a right or wrong way to let go of a loved one, for me personally - death is never an end.
That said, while planning my own 'exit', I'm incredibly aware that every person manages their grief in a different way and it is not my place to impose my own beliefs on those around me - but it's making for some interesting decision making.
I find funeral protocol absurd - everyone has to wear black and be sad? what is that about? we celebrate birth, why shouldn't we celebrate death? There is a time and place for everything, but at my own funeral I don't want sombre, I don't want black and I don't want silence. I want my ashes packed in to a series of fireworks and to go out with one final fucking good bang.
Ok, so the sudden demise of someone is a massive shock - but surely it shouldn't take death to bring forth an outpouring of emotion, we're all guilty of taking people for granted to a certain level, we're all a bit frightened of dying, put what is the one absolute guaranteed moment in our lives to the back of our mind and hope to just fall asleep in our bed, having danced the previous day away partying on our 99th birthday - but we are all going to die at some point, I don't understand why it takes for someones heart to stop for those that care to say out loud the things they should be saying while that heart still beats.
I am truly blessed in my life, it's taken a while to realise it - but even with the crappy health issues and my odd emo moments, I actually have it all. I like me, I'm perfectly content and happy with who I am (even the big feet), I have, not only the most insanely funny friends and family around me but also, 3 boys who are growing up to be amazing young men with their own strength and integrity that leaves me breathless, I'm loved and love in return, passionately, unreservedly and completely. I don't need for anything and I have no regrets.
So when my time comes, do not stand by a wooden box and weep for the body encased within - I am not there, that is not me. Do not grieve for a life complete or mourn the loss of time to say all of those unspoken things. I'm still here, just no longer in direct line of sight and you don't have to whisper words of goodbye because I'm being all ethereal in your secret drawers and haven't left your life.
Thursday, 10 March 2011
Tuesday, 8 March 2011
*inserts some humour*
found these whilst lurking on a site I use
and then I found this, which made me do lots of *gigglesnorts*
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