MyMan often accuses me of 'making it up' when I tell him that he shouldn't use the kitchen sink when his hands are filthy. Butto only use the kitchen sink to wash his hands if he has 'clean hands' and is about to prepare food. He only gets himself cereal or a hot drink so its not as if he regularly works in the ktichen. But it seems the kitchen sink has a real attraction for him.
I tell him it is not a sink for washing hands after messing about with dirty pots in the garden, refilling bird feeders or other similar filthy tasks. He assures me he doesn't; he uses the cloakroom. I know he often 'forgets' to do so. He denies it. So I follow on behind and clean the taps and the swivel spout he touched with dirty hands. He has a stomach upset often; so I try to maintain the highest degree of cleanliness in the kitchen.
Today I heard him use the toilet. Leave the cloakroom and go into the kitchen to wash his hands. I immediately asked why. He said he hadn't. I told him I heard and know that's what he'd done. He thought for a while and finally agreed. He hadn't realised; didn't know why he came out to the kitchen; thought it was because he was probably thinking of something else.
I know that he is incapable of multi tasking but next time he walks passed the bathroom or cloakroom to use the kitchen sink I intend to go into nagging mode. BIG TIME. I've moved the hand wash out of the way - hopefully it will give him pause to wonder why. And I've erected a big notice "this sink is not a washbasin: it's for Cook's use only".
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Homework on Positive Thinking
I am still trying to get MyMan to read this author's book on "How Your Mind Can Heal Your Body". I'm finding trying to motivate him a bit of an uphill struggle. He says he feels 'too ill' to read it. I'm not 100% myself as I feel a bit tired and run down. But I'm hoping he'll start to read it before his next appointment with the physiotherapist. There doesn't appear to be any lessening of pain after the injections of local aneasthetic down his spine last Friday. I know he is disappointed.Meanwhile I will show him this video interview to see if it intrigues him enough to want to look at the book . .
Friday, 13 November 2009
Negatively Positive
MyMan attended physio yesterday. He really dislikes having to go to the hospital 2 days running. He has another appointment with the physio in 2 weeks when she will assess his muscle strength and tone. He is being booked in for a Coping with Pain Programme which will start in the New Year. He'll be shown ways in which in can get up from the floor in and out of chairs/bed etc. Also exercises to improve posture and increase flexibility in back muscles.
She told him that he needed to be more positive in his outlook. That his negativity would not help him. I almost said "I told you so" but I refrained. I told him that I had a book and we could look at it and work on change of attitude as an exercise together. He "will give it a try" . . .
I'm trying to train him like a child or a dog. When he is in a reasonable mood and less negative I remain with him longer. As soon as he becomes grumpy, negative or aggressive I quietly withdraw and do my own thing - alone. He prefers to be with me so hopefully he'll make the connection at some point.
They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks but I'm hoping I can teach and old codger new behaviours . . .
She told him that he needed to be more positive in his outlook. That his negativity would not help him. I almost said "I told you so" but I refrained. I told him that I had a book and we could look at it and work on change of attitude as an exercise together. He "will give it a try" . . .
I'm trying to train him like a child or a dog. When he is in a reasonable mood and less negative I remain with him longer. As soon as he becomes grumpy, negative or aggressive I quietly withdraw and do my own thing - alone. He prefers to be with me so hopefully he'll make the connection at some point.
They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks but I'm hoping I can teach and old codger new behaviours . . .
Monday, 9 November 2009
Positively Negative
He feels so ill MyMan. His symptoms are so wide ranging and varied. A few of them are: fatigue, breathlessness, palpitations, sore throat, swallowing difficulties, extreme tiredness, indigestion, constipation, dire rear, back pain, neck pain, trembling, weak leg muscles, headaches, deafness, loss of balance, blurred vision, voracious hunger or loss of appetite. Moods swings and memory problems have been well talked about in older posts so I wont go over those again.
At the moment he is 'twitchy' and anxious. I know some of it is due to his concern that he will be 'unlucky' in that the injections into his spine will not work. Or worse, that something will go wrong and he'll be worse off than he is now. He is convinced that nothing will go right for him. I try to suggest that his negative attitude will not help him. That there is every chance he'll be pain free after the injections. The doctor told him it could last for months. But it all appears to fall on deaf ears. He goes for the procedure on Friday.
I'm trying to visualise a positive outcome. I'm working as hard as I can. I need to in order to overcome his negativity.
At the moment he is 'twitchy' and anxious. I know some of it is due to his concern that he will be 'unlucky' in that the injections into his spine will not work. Or worse, that something will go wrong and he'll be worse off than he is now. He is convinced that nothing will go right for him. I try to suggest that his negative attitude will not help him. That there is every chance he'll be pain free after the injections. The doctor told him it could last for months. But it all appears to fall on deaf ears. He goes for the procedure on Friday.
I'm trying to visualise a positive outcome. I'm working as hard as I can. I need to in order to overcome his negativity.
Friday, 23 October 2009
My Favourite Osteopath
My favourite osteopath is Tony Nevin. He was the first person I tried for manipulative therapy back in the early 1990s. I can remember how different I felt after my first treatment: balanced and several inches taller. I also felt incredibly relaxed and spaced out. It was how I imagined I would feel if I had smoked some funny baccy or chewed on a magic mushroom. Wonderful, relaxed, happy with heightened perception.
He used to tell such wonderfully funny stories too. I can remember when he first started to treat animals at the local wildlife centre. He was interviewed by BBC radio while he treated a badger. It became so relaxed it fell asleep. Tony could barely be heard above the badger's snoring.
I would go to him now if I still lived in Gloucestershire.
He used to tell such wonderfully funny stories too. I can remember when he first started to treat animals at the local wildlife centre. He was interviewed by BBC radio while he treated a badger. It became so relaxed it fell asleep. Tony could barely be heard above the badger's snoring.
I would go to him now if I still lived in Gloucestershire.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Zero Balancing
I'm trying to find a treatment that would not be too painful or intrusive. I used to have osteopathy or chiropractic treatment during my 50s but have not had any manipulation for over 10 years now. I always found it extremely painful. Not to mention the fact it took a good 2 or 3 days to recover afterwards.
I was considering Rolfing - I am looking for a 'gentle' treatment. I also like the idea of not having to undress. With the excess weight I've gained over the last 3 years I would feel too embarrassed. I have had reflexology in recent years which can be very relaxing but doesn't address back/neck or posture problems.
I read an article by Jane Alexander on Zero Balancing in the Telegraph on Saturday. It sounds a perfect way to try and restore my equilibrium. I may give it a try. I feel desperate today. Over the years I've had many health problems, falls, whiplash injuries and lately much stress and tension. It would be wonderful if some non invasive relaxing therapy could help. I've contacted a therapist and will let you know how I get on with it . . . or not.
I was considering Rolfing - I am looking for a 'gentle' treatment. I also like the idea of not having to undress. With the excess weight I've gained over the last 3 years I would feel too embarrassed. I have had reflexology in recent years which can be very relaxing but doesn't address back/neck or posture problems.
I read an article by Jane Alexander on Zero Balancing in the Telegraph on Saturday. It sounds a perfect way to try and restore my equilibrium. I may give it a try. I feel desperate today. Over the years I've had many health problems, falls, whiplash injuries and lately much stress and tension. It would be wonderful if some non invasive relaxing therapy could help. I've contacted a therapist and will let you know how I get on with it . . . or not.
Palpitations
I'm having palpitations. A symptom of stress. I'm stressed as MyMan is once again exhibiting signs of memory problems and an aggressive attitude. I still think it seems very much like a dementia problem. He also seems distressed at times and 'feels there is something wrong'. We may have to go back to see the psychologist for another session.
All being well I'll still be able to go to the training day tomorrow.
All being well I'll still be able to go to the training day tomorrow.
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Ways to Feel Good
It has really surprised me just how long it has taken me to catch up on my '3 weeks sick leave'.
We are still busy with hospital appointments. MyMan is about to attend physiotherapy. He now has a date set to attend day surgery at the RD&E hospital. He is having injections into his spine to see if it will help with his chronic back and neck pains.
I have 2 'training sessions' set for next week. [a] a training day arranged by Devon Carers' Link on "Ways to Feel Good" and [b] "Depression - How to Help" a one hour talk arranged by my local Mind Carers' Support Team.
They both seemed like a good idea when I signed up to them. However, at the moment one of the "Ways to Feel Good" would be to have a relaxing day at home, with a good book, my feet up and a glass of red wine at my elbow.
We are still busy with hospital appointments. MyMan is about to attend physiotherapy. He now has a date set to attend day surgery at the RD&E hospital. He is having injections into his spine to see if it will help with his chronic back and neck pains.
I have 2 'training sessions' set for next week. [a] a training day arranged by Devon Carers' Link on "Ways to Feel Good" and [b] "Depression - How to Help" a one hour talk arranged by my local Mind Carers' Support Team.
They both seemed like a good idea when I signed up to them. However, at the moment one of the "Ways to Feel Good" would be to have a relaxing day at home, with a good book, my feet up and a glass of red wine at my elbow.
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Playing Catch Up
I'm still struggling to play catch up with all my chores. Bad timing - meant that the decorator came in to refresh the hallway with some basic painting. It looks clean and fresh now. It hadn't been painted since the day we moved in 1999 and it needed doing then! It was a struggle to clear all the bookcases in readiness and of course it all had to be put back afterwards. Just at a time when I still felt weak and useless.
I still feel very tired. I've been told that I shouldn't underestimate the physical effects of the demands placed on me by caring for MyMan. That his depression is sapping my strength too. Apart from the extreme feeling of bone wearying fatigue I have a positive attitude. I'm just frustrated that I never get all that I want to do done each day. I get the 'must do' chores done and am having to leave the 'would like to do' list undone. But it is the latter that are fun, interesting or sociable .
At the moment I'm trying to get myself organised for a Macmillan Coffee morning. Several weeks ago October 1st seemed to be a good date for a charity coffee morning. Now I'm not so keen. I hope the sun doesn't shine that day. The last thing I want to see is all my cobwebs glowing in high definition sunlit glory.
Update: 13th October - All who came to join me for coffee and cake said they enjoyed the chance to socialise for a good cause. I've just paid a cheque for £90 into the fund.
I still feel very tired. I've been told that I shouldn't underestimate the physical effects of the demands placed on me by caring for MyMan. That his depression is sapping my strength too. Apart from the extreme feeling of bone wearying fatigue I have a positive attitude. I'm just frustrated that I never get all that I want to do done each day. I get the 'must do' chores done and am having to leave the 'would like to do' list undone. But it is the latter that are fun, interesting or sociable .
At the moment I'm trying to get myself organised for a Macmillan Coffee morning. Several weeks ago October 1st seemed to be a good date for a charity coffee morning. Now I'm not so keen. I hope the sun doesn't shine that day. The last thing I want to see is all my cobwebs glowing in high definition sunlit glory.
Update: 13th October - All who came to join me for coffee and cake said they enjoyed the chance to socialise for a good cause. I've just paid a cheque for £90 into the fund.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Too Ill To Care
It has been a very eventful week. Following on from the flood. I ended up in bed with a dose of gastric flu. I only left my bed to visit the bathroom, many times. In three days I didn't eat. I did nothing much beyond sleep or listen to Radio 4 or the World Service, which played continuously in the background.
My Man fed himself on canned soups, baked beans or spaghetti on toast. On the few occasions that I did surface to go to the kitchen for a glass of cooled boiled water. I would see that he had used practically every saucepan we owned. I was relieved that I did not have to worry about the mounting mountain of unwashed pots and pan. He told me that he would do the washing-up. I was not to fuss, or worry about it.
I finally surfaced on Sunday, but felt quite weak and nauseous. My appetite did not pick up until the remnants of the used saucepans had finally being cleared from every kitchen surface. It has taken a long time to return to normal, whatever normal is. After spending so many days lying down or sitting weakly in a chair. my back muscles are protesting. I feel stiff and old.
If I ever wonder what I do with my time every day. the evidence now lies in front of me. As soon I was able I picked up a cloth. I cleaned the kitchen sink; the bathroom basins and the toilets. Dusting, hoovering, tidying, nothing has been done. At the moment I'm just concentrating on maintaining a basic level of hygiene.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
My Man fed himself on canned soups, baked beans or spaghetti on toast. On the few occasions that I did surface to go to the kitchen for a glass of cooled boiled water. I would see that he had used practically every saucepan we owned. I was relieved that I did not have to worry about the mounting mountain of unwashed pots and pan. He told me that he would do the washing-up. I was not to fuss, or worry about it.
I finally surfaced on Sunday, but felt quite weak and nauseous. My appetite did not pick up until the remnants of the used saucepans had finally being cleared from every kitchen surface. It has taken a long time to return to normal, whatever normal is. After spending so many days lying down or sitting weakly in a chair. my back muscles are protesting. I feel stiff and old.
If I ever wonder what I do with my time every day. the evidence now lies in front of me. As soon I was able I picked up a cloth. I cleaned the kitchen sink; the bathroom basins and the toilets. Dusting, hoovering, tidying, nothing has been done. At the moment I'm just concentrating on maintaining a basic level of hygiene.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Waste Not Want Not . . .
Waste not Want not but it's time for a new beginning. In a new house. Where all the plumbing works properly.
This week I've had the plumber out 3 times. The recently fitted replacement waste disposal system clogged up. It refused to evacuate the workings of its innards into the drain. Instead it had tried perversely to rid itself of its contents by violently vomiting. Me, the kitchen sink, windows and cupboard doors were all covered in a dirty regurgitated mix of shredded vegetables, teabags and slimy water.
I took a risk and plunged a hand into the unit up to my elbow. Fret not: I only did this after I'd turned of the electricity. The blade and impeller were both moving freely. I believed it was a fault with the new unit. My previous waste disposer had worked well for 10 years with only a couple of minor hitches. One of these being when I'd inadvertently thrown a scouring pad into the works. I'd only replaced it as I'd had a new double sink fitted. Believing that at 10 years of age it should retire before it died.
I sent out an appeal to my friendly plumber. He called in on his way home. Dismantled the drain and found it was thoroughly clogged. He checked the waste disposer unit said it was working perfectly well. That the clogged drainpipe was the cause of its malaise. After an hour he left with everything working well and flowing freely again.
The next evening while preparing a salad I turned on the waste unit. Within seconds an ominous salad red and green tide started to head once again in my direction. This time I was faster on the draw. Killing the power before it had another bout of projectile vomiting. The plumber was there within half an hour. Still said he'd every confidence in the unit. He made a minor adjustment to the angle of the drain, removed a 'baffle' in a pipe (whatever that might be) and once again left me. He suggested I run the water well after using the unit. To ensure any residue was cleared from the drainpipe. Which I duly did.
This morning I found the cupboard full of water. Another phone call. He arrived within the hour. He thought that as the pipe work had been taken apart so often over the last few days that it could be a washer problem. He checked all the joints, washers, replaced everything. Tightened every nut, screw, bolt whatever. Swilled and flushed through the system. Neither of us really feeling 100% confident. He was about to leave. Re-assuring me that any more problems and he'd rethink the pipe work from scratch.
It was at this stage the overflow pipe from the tank in the loft started to gush.
The central heating engineer is booked to come and fit a new cold water tank tomorrow. Neither he nor my plumber believe the ancient tank will accept a new ball valve fitment.
It never rains but it pours.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
Throwing in the Towel
My Man has thrown in the towel. He consulted a solicitor with a view to taking action against the law firm that dealt with his compensation claim. Four years ago the settlement was 'bungled'. He wasn't well. He was slow witted and daft. We asked if it could be postponed until he felt better but we were persuaded to settle out of court as soon as possible.
For a 'no fault claim' and with legal protection insurance he ended up paying his legal costs!! There was no money for loss of earnings, future loss of earnings or lost pension provision.
I've known a friend end up with a larger payout for a broken ankle at work - and this when it was discovered she had previously undiagnosed osteoporosis. Since when she has used her compensation money to go on trekking holidays on 4 continents. I can see why he feels aggrieved.
Once his mind started to focus again (after the diagnosis and treatment for under active thyroid) he started to explore whether he had case. A local solicitor searched through files. He agreed there were many instances where there was a lack of 'duty of care' and 'professional negligence'. But to go through the legal procedure will cost. It is also costing him emotionally.
I agree with him. It is wrong. It is unfair. But I don't think it is healthy to keep looking back. The length of time it has taken to reach this stage: where we needed to make the decision whether to go for a barrister opinion has taken almost 2 years. At the age of 65 I don't think he has time to waste on 'justice'. We could do with the money. But . . .
Over the years he has fought many instances of injustice for other people. Against insurance companies, banks, pension firms and once a case of unfair dismissal. And invariably won their case for them. That is why I initially supported his decision to look at taking action. But it has been so time consuming. It is likely to be costly . . . He has so little energy I asked that he drop the idea so that we can use his precious energy on some form of enjoyment.
He has, reluctantly, agreed. He wrote to the solicitor and pulled the plug on the project. Hence his increased anger and irritation. Against everyone. But at the moment, I'm in the frontline.
For a 'no fault claim' and with legal protection insurance he ended up paying his legal costs!! There was no money for loss of earnings, future loss of earnings or lost pension provision.
I've known a friend end up with a larger payout for a broken ankle at work - and this when it was discovered she had previously undiagnosed osteoporosis. Since when she has used her compensation money to go on trekking holidays on 4 continents. I can see why he feels aggrieved.
Once his mind started to focus again (after the diagnosis and treatment for under active thyroid) he started to explore whether he had case. A local solicitor searched through files. He agreed there were many instances where there was a lack of 'duty of care' and 'professional negligence'. But to go through the legal procedure will cost. It is also costing him emotionally.
I agree with him. It is wrong. It is unfair. But I don't think it is healthy to keep looking back. The length of time it has taken to reach this stage: where we needed to make the decision whether to go for a barrister opinion has taken almost 2 years. At the age of 65 I don't think he has time to waste on 'justice'. We could do with the money. But . . .
Over the years he has fought many instances of injustice for other people. Against insurance companies, banks, pension firms and once a case of unfair dismissal. And invariably won their case for them. That is why I initially supported his decision to look at taking action. But it has been so time consuming. It is likely to be costly . . . He has so little energy I asked that he drop the idea so that we can use his precious energy on some form of enjoyment.
He has, reluctantly, agreed. He wrote to the solicitor and pulled the plug on the project. Hence his increased anger and irritation. Against everyone. But at the moment, I'm in the frontline.
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
Stubborn As a Mule
He's as stubborn as a mule MyMan. He will not listen: he will not accept advice: everyone (including me) is an "interfering" idiot who has no idea of his suffering.
Today he had to go into town to pick up files and papers from his solicitor. The load was likely to be heavy. I hauled a trolley case out of a cupboard for his use. I tried to park right outside the office but no spaces. He refused to wheel the case to the solicitors. And I could see him bent to one side as he carried it to the office. He was annoyed when the secretary there tried to help him. Then he became even more irate as he found it difficult to get the load into the boot.
I can see reasons why he's such a cross patch but when he moans about not having any energy left I can barely suppress the urge to tell him why that may be.
I reckon I know why women live longer than men. It's God's reward to us for taking care of our men
Today he had to go into town to pick up files and papers from his solicitor. The load was likely to be heavy. I hauled a trolley case out of a cupboard for his use. I tried to park right outside the office but no spaces. He refused to wheel the case to the solicitors. And I could see him bent to one side as he carried it to the office. He was annoyed when the secretary there tried to help him. Then he became even more irate as he found it difficult to get the load into the boot.
I can see reasons why he's such a cross patch but when he moans about not having any energy left I can barely suppress the urge to tell him why that may be.
I reckon I know why women live longer than men. It's God's reward to us for taking care of our men
Sunday, 23 August 2009
Swine Flu symptoms
I have at last managed to buy a digital thermometer. So now I will be able able to tell the difference between having a raging fever and/or a hot flush. My very old mercury thermometer broke a couple of years ago. It doesn't feel the same taking a temperature without having to shake down the mercury before and after. Sigh - for the good old days.
Some practical suggestions for keeping healthy, and hints on how to avoid succumbing to a virus such as Swine Flu can be found here.
Some practical suggestions for keeping healthy, and hints on how to avoid succumbing to a virus such as Swine Flu can be found here.
Friday, 21 August 2009
Tempting Wife
I was taken to task the other day for buying 'tempting treats'. Like most things in life the more time MyMan and I spend together the more I am amazed that we have been married for 38 years.
When we first married I would buy a bar of chocolate. Have a couple small squares and not think about chocolate for weeks. Then when I again craved some chocoalate I'd return to the sweet dish and . . NOTHING - gone - vanished. After a while I realised that if I wanted chocolate I had to eat it before it was eaten. Weight started to creep on.
Now I am trying to lose weight. My view is that if it crept on then the best way to lose it is for it to creep away again. I still allow for occasional treats. Some weeks it's one treat per week. Desperate times it could be one treat per day. I buy packs of small chocolate treats. MyMan also needs to lose weight. He thinks I shouldn't have small treats. He blames me for his excess weight. If "we didn't have treats in the house" he would be able to resist them.
He claims to have more willpower than I. He has never been tempted to buy sweets. No he wouldn't. He's never tempted to shop either.The rare occasion I asked him to go buy a loaf of bread he also returned with 4 doughnuts and 2 almond macaroons. One doughnut was for me.
I've tried not having any treats in the house. But he expects something 'nice' to eat in the evening. Nice+ chocolatey and sweet and BIG. If none are available his grumpiness levels escalate to the point where I feel tempted to knife him. So I buy him ice cream to eat with fruit as a pudding after his main meal. At his suggestion I bought treats for myself and 'hid' them. I also buy some tasty items to feed my bridge friends when they come to play which are also hidden away.
During a recent night time prowl he found my hiding place. He opened and devoured my milk chocolate snack packs. As there are "only 2 small biscuits" per pack he ate 4 packs. He also went on and ate half a packet of 'expensively posh biscuits'. He didn't tell me. I only found out when I went to retrieve them for a bridge party several days later. My bridge friends had to make do with plain Rich Tea. Yesterday evening he ate my weeks supply of 6 x Toffee Crisps at 'only' 99 cals. He told me off for buying them in small versions: "only 2 bites and they're gone" -"Such an expensive way to shop".
When I try and tell him that these sweet treats are what add to his weight misery he tells me he gets hungry in the night. As he is constantly fighting Co-Codamol induced constipation, I suggest that a dish of high fibre cereal would be much better at warding off hunger. Then he tells me off again. That if the treats weren't in the house he would have to make do with cereal. I'm looking for a new hiding place. I'll try the cleaning cupboard. I don't think he ever looks in there.
When we first married I would buy a bar of chocolate. Have a couple small squares and not think about chocolate for weeks. Then when I again craved some chocoalate I'd return to the sweet dish and . . NOTHING - gone - vanished. After a while I realised that if I wanted chocolate I had to eat it before it was eaten. Weight started to creep on.
Now I am trying to lose weight. My view is that if it crept on then the best way to lose it is for it to creep away again. I still allow for occasional treats. Some weeks it's one treat per week. Desperate times it could be one treat per day. I buy packs of small chocolate treats. MyMan also needs to lose weight. He thinks I shouldn't have small treats. He blames me for his excess weight. If "we didn't have treats in the house" he would be able to resist them.
He claims to have more willpower than I. He has never been tempted to buy sweets. No he wouldn't. He's never tempted to shop either.The rare occasion I asked him to go buy a loaf of bread he also returned with 4 doughnuts and 2 almond macaroons. One doughnut was for me.
I've tried not having any treats in the house. But he expects something 'nice' to eat in the evening. Nice+ chocolatey and sweet and BIG. If none are available his grumpiness levels escalate to the point where I feel tempted to knife him. So I buy him ice cream to eat with fruit as a pudding after his main meal. At his suggestion I bought treats for myself and 'hid' them. I also buy some tasty items to feed my bridge friends when they come to play which are also hidden away.
During a recent night time prowl he found my hiding place. He opened and devoured my milk chocolate snack packs. As there are "only 2 small biscuits" per pack he ate 4 packs. He also went on and ate half a packet of 'expensively posh biscuits'. He didn't tell me. I only found out when I went to retrieve them for a bridge party several days later. My bridge friends had to make do with plain Rich Tea. Yesterday evening he ate my weeks supply of 6 x Toffee Crisps at 'only' 99 cals. He told me off for buying them in small versions: "only 2 bites and they're gone" -"Such an expensive way to shop".
When I try and tell him that these sweet treats are what add to his weight misery he tells me he gets hungry in the night. As he is constantly fighting Co-Codamol induced constipation, I suggest that a dish of high fibre cereal would be much better at warding off hunger. Then he tells me off again. That if the treats weren't in the house he would have to make do with cereal. I'm looking for a new hiding place. I'll try the cleaning cupboard. I don't think he ever looks in there.
Sunday, 9 August 2009
I Require an Energy Boost
I need an energy boost. Besides ferrying MyMan to and from his hospital appts I'm thinking and using my memory bank for the 2 of us. Trying to keep an eye on his drug management (he's taken back control of his medibox again but needs a discrete eye kept on it); motivating him to attend appointments, motivating him to do a few basic tasks, reminding him once more what the Drs have said, reminding him to rest, or to take exercise, to do this or do that, then I have to see to household cleanliness, laundry, shopping, cooking.
Even though I draw up a weekly planner occasionally balls get dropped. He then gets impatient with me as 'we've not done' such and such . . . He can't understand why I feel so very tired sometimes. That to me, maybe 'such and such' wasn't high on my list of priorities.
Why is his memory so inconveniently good - sometimes?
Even though I draw up a weekly planner occasionally balls get dropped. He then gets impatient with me as 'we've not done' such and such . . . He can't understand why I feel so very tired sometimes. That to me, maybe 'such and such' wasn't high on my list of priorities.
Why is his memory so inconveniently good - sometimes?
Shocking Acupuncture
This weeks trip to the NHS Acupuncture clinic led to MyMan have needles inserted into his neck muscles and then connected to an electricity supply. The Dr warned him that he is likely to feel 'off' for a few days. He still thinks it is 'mumbo jumbo'. Everything he reads on the subject highlights the fact that 50% patients treated do not feel any benefit. I raise the other side of the coin that therefore 50% must feel some beneficial effects. He isn't impressed by my reasoning.
I can't figure out why all the things he used to love about me: my sense of humour, my independence, my practicality, my capabilities, my logical brain, my dreamy nature, my rose tinted specs, my spontaneous flexibility, my optimism - are all an increasing irritant to him.
I feel as if I could plug him into the mains supply myself very soon. I warn him that if he doesn't calm down he may spontaneously combust.
I can't figure out why all the things he used to love about me: my sense of humour, my independence, my practicality, my capabilities, my logical brain, my dreamy nature, my rose tinted specs, my spontaneous flexibility, my optimism - are all an increasing irritant to him.
I feel as if I could plug him into the mains supply myself very soon. I warn him that if he doesn't calm down he may spontaneously combust.
Tuesday, 4 August 2009
Spontaneity
I was very low yesterday. I wanted to live near my sister. I was desperate for a pop in visit to chat, share worries, have a good healthy giggle over a cup of tea.
This morning I still felt low and thought how much I missed the chance of spontaneity in my life. I couldn't remember the last time we did anything spontaneous. With nothing planned for the day I had breakfast and went in for a shower. Standing there in a lather and the door opened. "John rang to ask if we could meet them for coffee this morning? I said yes - we're to meet up at the garden centre at 10.30". That surprised me.
I was surprised even more when after a cup of coffee on the garden centre veranda it started to rain. We all moved inside to try and find a table for 6. MyMan asked everyone "Why don't you come back to ours?" - well - and there I had been quietly wishing for spontaneity. I have had a double dose. I just wished I'd made the beds, cleaned the toilets and put fresh towels out before we went out. And with a lounge that had not been cleaned since a week before I pulled my back. Ah well . . .
If we're back in spontaneous mode I'll have to pull my finger out and raise my game housework wise.
This morning I still felt low and thought how much I missed the chance of spontaneity in my life. I couldn't remember the last time we did anything spontaneous. With nothing planned for the day I had breakfast and went in for a shower. Standing there in a lather and the door opened. "John rang to ask if we could meet them for coffee this morning? I said yes - we're to meet up at the garden centre at 10.30". That surprised me.
I was surprised even more when after a cup of coffee on the garden centre veranda it started to rain. We all moved inside to try and find a table for 6. MyMan asked everyone "Why don't you come back to ours?" - well - and there I had been quietly wishing for spontaneity. I have had a double dose. I just wished I'd made the beds, cleaned the toilets and put fresh towels out before we went out. And with a lounge that had not been cleaned since a week before I pulled my back. Ah well . . .
If we're back in spontaneous mode I'll have to pull my finger out and raise my game housework wise.
Sunday, 2 August 2009
Side Effects
I thought that perhaps the acupuncturist had found his irritability button and turned it to high but on reading 'possible side effects' of his new lyrical drug I see that irritability is one. Along with confusion. Just what I need. Thanks a lot Doc . .
Tuesday, 21 July 2009
Quasimodo
I've been crawling around the last few days with a stance and gait a bit like Quasimodo. I've been hauling the lounge furniture around chasing the dust and cobwebs away. Once too often obviously.
I got out of bed stiffly last Thursday and pulled my back muscles as I tried to catch a urine speciment in an itsy bitsy pot for the nurse. The joys of being a woman.
My pelvis tilted - ouch and F**k . It took me 3 days to get to the point where I could place both feet flat on the floor while I stood. As one leg was temporarily several inches (it felt like feet) shorter than the other. For 2 days I could only sit in a firm garden chair or in my Lloyd loom chair in the bedroom. I had to lie down to relieve and relax muscles but then had to endure a marathon exercise to sit up again.
We both lived on fruit, bread, cheese and painkillers. I became tired cranky depressed. It was a timely reminder for me that this is what MyMan has to endure daily. I was weeping with frustration and tiredness after only 48 hours. Once my powers of concentration returned I enjoyed the excuse to sit, rest. To spend time by reading, reading, reading and watching the cricket.
I got out of bed stiffly last Thursday and pulled my back muscles as I tried to catch a urine speciment in an itsy bitsy pot for the nurse. The joys of being a woman.
My pelvis tilted - ouch and F**k . It took me 3 days to get to the point where I could place both feet flat on the floor while I stood. As one leg was temporarily several inches (it felt like feet) shorter than the other. For 2 days I could only sit in a firm garden chair or in my Lloyd loom chair in the bedroom. I had to lie down to relieve and relax muscles but then had to endure a marathon exercise to sit up again.
We both lived on fruit, bread, cheese and painkillers. I became tired cranky depressed. It was a timely reminder for me that this is what MyMan has to endure daily. I was weeping with frustration and tiredness after only 48 hours. Once my powers of concentration returned I enjoyed the excuse to sit, rest. To spend time by reading, reading, reading and watching the cricket.
Tuesday, 14 July 2009
What a pain in the neck
What a pain in the neck it is having to attend hospital appointments. Up early to leave to get to Exeter. Rushing along with the rush hour traffic we make it to Heavitree hospital by 8.50. MyMan is exhausted. Exhausted by depression. Exhausted with the effort of rising early enough to leave the house by 8 a.m. Exhausted by the nervous energy wasted on the journey.
Exhausted as he sat checking on all the other drivers. Exhorting me to 'watch out'; 'that one's changing lanes'; 'mind that car'; 'God, for a minute there I thought he wasn't going to stop'. I breathe a sigh of relief that all these possible threats of danger seem to be driven by males. MyMan calls on 'God' and 'Jesus' a great many times as a passenger. For a man who has no religious beliefs it's rather touching in a way.
I was hoping that a new larger safer car would reassure him. But it appears not. I'm not sure if the anxiety of being in a car adds to the pain he feels or whether the pain he feels adds to his fears. Pain being a perpetual reminder of his accident.
It's several years since he last had a pain management assessment. This time I sat in with him. He needs me to at least listen to what he is told. Besides my acting as his memory he needs motivation. Motivating to follow through with the suggested programme. The action plan is:
Exhausted as he sat checking on all the other drivers. Exhorting me to 'watch out'; 'that one's changing lanes'; 'mind that car'; 'God, for a minute there I thought he wasn't going to stop'. I breathe a sigh of relief that all these possible threats of danger seem to be driven by males. MyMan calls on 'God' and 'Jesus' a great many times as a passenger. For a man who has no religious beliefs it's rather touching in a way.
I was hoping that a new larger safer car would reassure him. But it appears not. I'm not sure if the anxiety of being in a car adds to the pain he feels or whether the pain he feels adds to his fears. Pain being a perpetual reminder of his accident.
It's several years since he last had a pain management assessment. This time I sat in with him. He needs me to at least listen to what he is told. Besides my acting as his memory he needs motivation. Motivating to follow through with the suggested programme. The action plan is:
- A new pain relieving drug that will also help him sleep
- A 6 week course of acupuncture
- Physiotherapy to correct posture and tone muscles
He dreads the idea of the regular twice weekly journeys to Wonford and Heavitree hospitals. He was looking for an excuse to refuse the suggested treatments. He doesn't want to 'place more pressure' on me by taking him there each time. He doesn't want to ask a friend to taxi him there. nor to use the hospital car service. He's unable to use public transport.
There was also talk of a possible minor surgical procedure. But I'm just thinking of it by taking it one step at a time.
Wednesday, 8 July 2009
A National Debate
I hear that there is to be a National Debate on the future of 'Care and Support'. The DHSocial Care want us to " encourage other people to talk about care & support".
Talk is easy enough. It's actions that speak louder than words. And of course any actions planned will need financing. But maybe this is a step in the right direction.
As far as I'm concerned 'Care in the Community' was all very well with its high ideals. But it wasn't sufficiently funded from the beginning. Community Care really means 'leave care to the family' or 'leave the responsibility for care to the neighbours' .
There is even a 'blog' on the need for change 'Care Support Independence' - why don't you pop over, have a look and maybe join in the debate.
Talk is easy enough. It's actions that speak louder than words. And of course any actions planned will need financing. But maybe this is a step in the right direction.
As far as I'm concerned 'Care in the Community' was all very well with its high ideals. But it wasn't sufficiently funded from the beginning. Community Care really means 'leave care to the family' or 'leave the responsibility for care to the neighbours' .
There is even a 'blog' on the need for change 'Care Support Independence' - why don't you pop over, have a look and maybe join in the debate.
Friday, 3 July 2009
Symptoms of Swine Flu
Symptoms of Swine Flu? I wonder what they are. Obviously a sore throat and fever.
I went into the surgery this morning to book an appointment with the nurse for a routine blood test in a couple of weeks. The first thing I was asked was did I have a sore throat - "yes, I often have one during summer". It's caused by a post nasal drip due to hay fever.
Did I have a fever? "How would I know with all these hot flushes I keep getting? "
I managed to make an appointment. If I should end up catching swine flu I now know there is no point in calling in to the surgery to see a doctor. The waiting room and all the local chemists have huge notices telling us to stay at home if we have swine flu. Don't go to the surgery.
I thought all us 60+ year olds were supposed to be immune from it. Perhaps I don't 'look' 60.
I went into the surgery this morning to book an appointment with the nurse for a routine blood test in a couple of weeks. The first thing I was asked was did I have a sore throat - "yes, I often have one during summer". It's caused by a post nasal drip due to hay fever.
Did I have a fever? "How would I know with all these hot flushes I keep getting? "
I managed to make an appointment. If I should end up catching swine flu I now know there is no point in calling in to the surgery to see a doctor. The waiting room and all the local chemists have huge notices telling us to stay at home if we have swine flu. Don't go to the surgery.
I thought all us 60+ year olds were supposed to be immune from it. Perhaps I don't 'look' 60.
Monday, 15 June 2009
It's Been a Very Busy Month
It's been a very busy month. Appointments [mine] Carer Support worker and health MOT; [MyMan's] Consultant psychologist, ENT Consultant, CT scan and the West of England Eye Unit. Trying to source a new Toyota Verso. A friend flying in to stay at a local hotel; to be entertained between breakfast and bed time.
In between times I've been trying to enjoy myself - bridge class, playing bridge, and coffee with friends. Along with all the usual chores of laundry, cleaning, cooking and shopping. The garden's had to look after itself. And it shows. Shame. Can't be helped. Something had to go. It was either MyMan or the garden. My choice may be different another month.
MyMan has had a few sessions with the psychologist. Testing his short term memory problem. The psychologist is "almost 70% certain there is no dementia". He believes that MyMan lacks focus and concentration due to depression and the energy sapping chronic pain. He has referred him to the Pain Management Clinic for a full re-assessment. But he wants me to monitor the situation and return to him if MyMan appears to be getting worse. He said that if dementia is present, there is much that can be done if it's 'caught early' enough.
MyMan also has a cyst on his eyelid which is causing him a problem and will need minor surgery. He's had a CT scan for his chronic sinusitis with a view to possible surgery. And now he has infective conjunctivitis. It's just as well most of my health results not showing up much of a problem; other than a raised BP. I don't have time or energy to be unwell. I'll have to practise the yogic breathing exercises more often and chill out.
Margaret, my carer support worker, suggested that MyMan could use the hospital car service. It would give me a break and the chance to have a couple of hours alone at home. I loved the idea but MyMan said he didn't want to travel over to Exeter with a 'stranger' in a 'strange car' .
In between times I've been trying to enjoy myself - bridge class, playing bridge, and coffee with friends. Along with all the usual chores of laundry, cleaning, cooking and shopping. The garden's had to look after itself. And it shows. Shame. Can't be helped. Something had to go. It was either MyMan or the garden. My choice may be different another month.
MyMan has had a few sessions with the psychologist. Testing his short term memory problem. The psychologist is "almost 70% certain there is no dementia". He believes that MyMan lacks focus and concentration due to depression and the energy sapping chronic pain. He has referred him to the Pain Management Clinic for a full re-assessment. But he wants me to monitor the situation and return to him if MyMan appears to be getting worse. He said that if dementia is present, there is much that can be done if it's 'caught early' enough.
MyMan also has a cyst on his eyelid which is causing him a problem and will need minor surgery. He's had a CT scan for his chronic sinusitis with a view to possible surgery. And now he has infective conjunctivitis. It's just as well most of my health results not showing up much of a problem; other than a raised BP. I don't have time or energy to be unwell. I'll have to practise the yogic breathing exercises more often and chill out.
Margaret, my carer support worker, suggested that MyMan could use the hospital car service. It would give me a break and the chance to have a couple of hours alone at home. I loved the idea but MyMan said he didn't want to travel over to Exeter with a 'stranger' in a 'strange car' .
I'm TATTI
I think my body may be telling me I've had all I can take. I've had such a long list of symptoms. IBS, tension headaches, muscles pains and weakness, breathlessness and palpitations. And I'm TATTI. That is I'm Tired All The Time.
I finally went to the doctor. After an alarming 2 hour session of a a racing heart and feeling twitchy I thought I'd better go along for a check up. By the time the appointment came around I felt much better. But rather than cancel I thought I'd go in and just tell him how I had been feeling. I know that I've been stressed and tense. I assumed all of my symptoms to be psychosomatic.
Sitting in the waiting room I could feel myself getting tense and anxious. No amount of deep relaxing breathing could ease the feeling of unease.
By the time he checked my blood pressure it was UP. He ordered a routine ECG, fasting blood tests and another BP check with the nurse. I'm to return to see him a couple of weeks.
A couple of days after the blood test I received a letter telling me to book in for a 'routine blood test' in a months time. What have they found?? My anxiety levels are on the up again! Take a deep breathe; breath and chill out. CALM .... CALM ....
I finally went to the doctor. After an alarming 2 hour session of a a racing heart and feeling twitchy I thought I'd better go along for a check up. By the time the appointment came around I felt much better. But rather than cancel I thought I'd go in and just tell him how I had been feeling. I know that I've been stressed and tense. I assumed all of my symptoms to be psychosomatic.
Sitting in the waiting room I could feel myself getting tense and anxious. No amount of deep relaxing breathing could ease the feeling of unease.
By the time he checked my blood pressure it was UP. He ordered a routine ECG, fasting blood tests and another BP check with the nurse. I'm to return to see him a couple of weeks.
A couple of days after the blood test I received a letter telling me to book in for a 'routine blood test' in a months time. What have they found?? My anxiety levels are on the up again! Take a deep breathe; breath and chill out. CALM .... CALM ....
Friday, 22 May 2009
At Last a Decison . . .
Well at long last a decision has been made. I now know which car we are going to buy. Well, not exactly which car as we now have to negotiate the next decision. A 'new' new car, or a demonstrator 'new', or a 2nd hand.
My much loved Jazz which was perfect for whizzing around the local lanes and small villages and towns has not been suitable as our main car. MyMan finds it difficult to get in and out of it. It is a hard jiggly ride for someone with back problems. On the rare occasions that MyMan drives, I too find it hard in the passenger seat and often end up with back ache.
It's taken many many months to choose. Initially we liked the Toyota Corolla Verso but it didn't have an automatic model - only semi-automatic. I wasn't keen. Even if it did sound very macho.
So we progressed to looking at the Ford S Max; the Citroen Grand c4. Honda CRV and numerous others. Many very comfortable cars. The big difficulty was in finding a petrol automatic. For the limited mileage we do each year I didn't want the hassle of a diesel automatic and the concern about 'particulate filters' maintenance when driving so many short journeys. My annual mileage usually less than 5000 miles. I cannot get particularly excited about particulate filters - whatever ... Some salesmen tried to tell me it wouldn't be a problem. But I didn't want to have to pay extra on servicing each year if I'd only done limited mileage. A potential problem I don't need or want.
The Honda CRV very comfortable when MyMan, with his short legs, managed to climb in. But he felt it would be embarrassing to take a step stool every where with us, so that was off the list. We almost purchased a Nissan Qashqai. I love the adverts. I like the idea of young funky urban image. No problems finding a CVT automatic petrol engine. Only problem was it was a bit small. MyMan had to flex his neck (difficult) to get in. I loved driving it. It felt just like the Jazz. But larger and more solid. MyMan felt it was a good compromise but still hankered after the Verso. He'd taken lately to admiring them in car parks and sighing deeply.
Then just as we were going to commit to buying the Qashqai we read this article in the Telegraph. Two weeks later; 2 test drives completed and we are about to seal a deal and buy a new car. New to us that is. I'm not sure there will be any 2nd hand ones on the market yet so we'll see if we can find a demonstrator. It's easy to drive but feels a bit wide to me. Especially round the narrow Devon lanes. I hope to get used to it once I drive one regularly. It's a sedate drive but maybe at age 60 I should now become a sedate (or a sedated) driver. At least I'll be able to eyeball lorry drivers. Toyota have a reputation for reliability. I hope it will be money well spent. It seems a lot to pay out when we no longer have an income.
My much loved Jazz which was perfect for whizzing around the local lanes and small villages and towns has not been suitable as our main car. MyMan finds it difficult to get in and out of it. It is a hard jiggly ride for someone with back problems. On the rare occasions that MyMan drives, I too find it hard in the passenger seat and often end up with back ache.
It's taken many many months to choose. Initially we liked the Toyota Corolla Verso but it didn't have an automatic model - only semi-automatic. I wasn't keen. Even if it did sound very macho.
So we progressed to looking at the Ford S Max; the Citroen Grand c4. Honda CRV and numerous others. Many very comfortable cars. The big difficulty was in finding a petrol automatic. For the limited mileage we do each year I didn't want the hassle of a diesel automatic and the concern about 'particulate filters' maintenance when driving so many short journeys. My annual mileage usually less than 5000 miles. I cannot get particularly excited about particulate filters - whatever ... Some salesmen tried to tell me it wouldn't be a problem. But I didn't want to have to pay extra on servicing each year if I'd only done limited mileage. A potential problem I don't need or want.
The Honda CRV very comfortable when MyMan, with his short legs, managed to climb in. But he felt it would be embarrassing to take a step stool every where with us, so that was off the list. We almost purchased a Nissan Qashqai. I love the adverts. I like the idea of young funky urban image. No problems finding a CVT automatic petrol engine. Only problem was it was a bit small. MyMan had to flex his neck (difficult) to get in. I loved driving it. It felt just like the Jazz. But larger and more solid. MyMan felt it was a good compromise but still hankered after the Verso. He'd taken lately to admiring them in car parks and sighing deeply.
Then just as we were going to commit to buying the Qashqai we read this article in the Telegraph. Two weeks later; 2 test drives completed and we are about to seal a deal and buy a new car. New to us that is. I'm not sure there will be any 2nd hand ones on the market yet so we'll see if we can find a demonstrator. It's easy to drive but feels a bit wide to me. Especially round the narrow Devon lanes. I hope to get used to it once I drive one regularly. It's a sedate drive but maybe at age 60 I should now become a sedate (or a sedated) driver. At least I'll be able to eyeball lorry drivers. Toyota have a reputation for reliability. I hope it will be money well spent. It seems a lot to pay out when we no longer have an income.
Friday, 1 May 2009
Carers' Support Each Other
On Wednesday evening I went out. I left home at 7 p.m and like a teenager going out on the razzle for the evening I felt an eager sense of anticipation. In a small hotel betwixt and between Honiton and Exeter I met up with 11 other carers to enjoy a drink and share stories. It felt a bit like an Al-anon meeting. I almost stood up to say "My name's Penelope and I care for a disabled and mentally depressed husband". We ranged through all ages from 30s to mid 60s. But all of us were women. Caring for a partner, husband, son or daughter. Many had far more traumatic situations to cope with than I. Suicide attempts. But they all felt that I had been coping for a long time as many of them had been carers for'only' 2 years.
It was good to share our experiences and to hear that so many of our PIGS [Person I Give love and Support to] carry on in the same way. How self centred and selfish they are. How they say one thing but frequently mean another. How much they dislike our going out to enjoy ourselves. The emotional pressure or emotional blackmail our PIGS use. Our own feelings of grief and loss. How sadness affects us. That Depression is contagious.
For 3 hours we talked. Sometimes seriously. But more often in a lighthearted way. We also were able to laugh. Many laughs.Laugh a lot. Shared laughter is the best thing in life.
It was good to share our experiences and to hear that so many of our PIGS [Person I Give love and Support to] carry on in the same way. How self centred and selfish they are. How they say one thing but frequently mean another. How much they dislike our going out to enjoy ourselves. The emotional pressure or emotional blackmail our PIGS use. Our own feelings of grief and loss. How sadness affects us. That Depression is contagious.
For 3 hours we talked. Sometimes seriously. But more often in a lighthearted way. We also were able to laugh. Many laughs.Laugh a lot. Shared laughter is the best thing in life.
Saturday, 25 April 2009
Carers' Support Worker
Well - if nothing else meeting with a Carers' Support Worker from MIND on Monday gave me the chance to talk, talk and talk. I assumed I'd have an hour. But the first thing Margaret said was that I had 2 hours to talk about anything, everything or nothing. She explained that there isn't much they can do in a practical or financial way. I hadn't expected a magic wand. Just to have the opportunity to talk to someone who wouldn't be judgemental or feel I was doing MyMan down was a form of relief.
While I was talking things over I was still inclined to be defending or explaining MyMan and his mental problems. It was a form of relief. She didn't think it was unreasonable of me to wish to move closer to family. Agreed with my view that if MyMan rarely ventured out far there was very little to matter to him about where we lived. But even then I still felt inclined to balance the scales. I can see from his point of view that what he knows could be much 'safer' than a leap into the unfamiliar. A case of 'It's better the devil you know when choosing whether to leap between a rock and a hard place . . . . '.
I've agreed to meet up with a small group of carers who are in similar situation. To see if we can provide mutual support. I was told I had a good sense of humour and was likely to enjoy the company of one lady in particular. Her Man developed depression following his retirement and their move to Devon. This was just the scenario I had planned to avoid. Choosing to relocate to our chosen retirement area well in advance of the event. To establish roots before the next major change in our life. But as they say 'the best laid plans of mice, men and women gang awry . . .'
I found I was emotionally exhausted in the afternoon but still entertained a friend to afternoon tea. It was her birthday.
I'm trying to be more selfish. To stop considering 'friends' needs above my own. But like an addict it's one step or one day at a time. I'm trying in more ways than one.
While I was talking things over I was still inclined to be defending or explaining MyMan and his mental problems. It was a form of relief. She didn't think it was unreasonable of me to wish to move closer to family. Agreed with my view that if MyMan rarely ventured out far there was very little to matter to him about where we lived. But even then I still felt inclined to balance the scales. I can see from his point of view that what he knows could be much 'safer' than a leap into the unfamiliar. A case of 'It's better the devil you know when choosing whether to leap between a rock and a hard place . . . . '.
I've agreed to meet up with a small group of carers who are in similar situation. To see if we can provide mutual support. I was told I had a good sense of humour and was likely to enjoy the company of one lady in particular. Her Man developed depression following his retirement and their move to Devon. This was just the scenario I had planned to avoid. Choosing to relocate to our chosen retirement area well in advance of the event. To establish roots before the next major change in our life. But as they say 'the best laid plans of mice, men and women gang awry . . .'
I found I was emotionally exhausted in the afternoon but still entertained a friend to afternoon tea. It was her birthday.
I'm trying to be more selfish. To stop considering 'friends' needs above my own. But like an addict it's one step or one day at a time. I'm trying in more ways than one.
Sunday, 19 April 2009
Games we play . .
MyMan encourages me to get out and enjoy myself "as much as possible". Then when I do he says how dead the place seems without me. I try to save a day a week when we can go out together. And I'm always home Saturdays and Sundays holding myself in readiness for a jaunt out somewhere together.
We agreed we would go out on Sunday this weekend. Once again I waited for MyMan to surface from his slumbers. We had a similar conversation as we do prior to every trip out together. "Where shall we go?" he asks me. "I must get a walk in, somehow. . ." he said. I draw breathe to reply and he suddenly suggests "Burrow Farm Garden - I love it there . . . ". Surprised as he rarely suggests anything that he'd like to do I draw breathe again to agree. Before I can open my mouth he tells me "that's no good - it will make your hay fever worse".
I disagree. My hay fever is bad enough here where we are surrounded by at least 8 fields of rape. Especially after spending a few hours toiling in the garden. Although the symptoms of hay fever can feel like a dose of flu there is no way I will allow it to limit what I want to do. I tell him so. Irritable now he tells me he doesn't want me to go somewhere where I'll feel the worse for going. He'll forgo the visit to save me discomfort. But wistfully tells me " I do so love it there". .
I decide I'll go anyway at which point he says he feels it will be too far for him today. He doesn't want to do a long journey. 'Long' means about 12 miles and will take about 20 minutes.
I think I'm beginning to learn the rules of this 'new game'. But he doesn't like how I play.
We agreed we would go out on Sunday this weekend. Once again I waited for MyMan to surface from his slumbers. We had a similar conversation as we do prior to every trip out together. "Where shall we go?" he asks me. "I must get a walk in, somehow. . ." he said. I draw breathe to reply and he suddenly suggests "Burrow Farm Garden - I love it there . . . ". Surprised as he rarely suggests anything that he'd like to do I draw breathe again to agree. Before I can open my mouth he tells me "that's no good - it will make your hay fever worse".
I disagree. My hay fever is bad enough here where we are surrounded by at least 8 fields of rape. Especially after spending a few hours toiling in the garden. Although the symptoms of hay fever can feel like a dose of flu there is no way I will allow it to limit what I want to do. I tell him so. Irritable now he tells me he doesn't want me to go somewhere where I'll feel the worse for going. He'll forgo the visit to save me discomfort. But wistfully tells me " I do so love it there". .
I decide I'll go anyway at which point he says he feels it will be too far for him today. He doesn't want to do a long journey. 'Long' means about 12 miles and will take about 20 minutes.
I think I'm beginning to learn the rules of this 'new game'. But he doesn't like how I play.
Thursday, 16 April 2009
It's in the Stars . .
It's in the stars or is it 'just' a co-incidence? Waiting for an appointment yesterday I read my stars for the day. Jonathan Cainer said that I put up with a lot, I take on more than I need to, I help out more than I am obliged to and that "you give but don't always get much back" . . . . He says I don't mind (?!) "You hardly stop to think whether there should be rewards for carrying so many burdens on your back, even when really they represent weights that other should be shouldering. Don't ask why life is suddenly starting to be kinder to you. It's what you deserve".
Well I hadn't noticed life suddenly being kinder to me. I have started to try and focus on the positive aspects of my world. I am trying to appreciate more the good things in life. Shoving all the worries to the back of my mind. Ignoring the negativity emanating from MyMan. Trying to let the aggression and irritability bounce off me without any adverse effects. I imagine myself in a protective bubble. When MyMan is pleasant and 'normal' I come out of my bubble but it's always there in the background . . .
I had a phone call as I was preparing lunch. Up to my wrists in oily pilchards MyMan asked me "who's that?". I told him we wont know till its answered. He took the hint. He doesn't always. It was for me. Margaret from the Mental Health team wants to meet me to find out how I'm coping. She offered me the chance to visit her where we could talk without my feeling " inhibited or disloyal". I almost wept at the words and her understanding. I rarely get the chance to speak privately about my anxiety over MyMan. Other than this blog that is. It is still hard not to feel disloyal but he is not the man I've spent so many years of my life with . . .
In a strange way I am a mixture of hopeful, expectant and nervous about the meeting. Maybe 'this is what I deserve'?
Well I hadn't noticed life suddenly being kinder to me. I have started to try and focus on the positive aspects of my world. I am trying to appreciate more the good things in life. Shoving all the worries to the back of my mind. Ignoring the negativity emanating from MyMan. Trying to let the aggression and irritability bounce off me without any adverse effects. I imagine myself in a protective bubble. When MyMan is pleasant and 'normal' I come out of my bubble but it's always there in the background . . .
I had a phone call as I was preparing lunch. Up to my wrists in oily pilchards MyMan asked me "who's that?". I told him we wont know till its answered. He took the hint. He doesn't always. It was for me. Margaret from the Mental Health team wants to meet me to find out how I'm coping. She offered me the chance to visit her where we could talk without my feeling " inhibited or disloyal". I almost wept at the words and her understanding. I rarely get the chance to speak privately about my anxiety over MyMan. Other than this blog that is. It is still hard not to feel disloyal but he is not the man I've spent so many years of my life with . . .
In a strange way I am a mixture of hopeful, expectant and nervous about the meeting. Maybe 'this is what I deserve'?
Saturday, 11 April 2009
All's Well
After such a stressful time on Moanday Thursday I expected Good Friday and the Easter weekend to continue in the same vein. But within a few minutes of surfacing from his slumbers yesterday morning MyMan surprised me by his cheerful demeanour. It continued unabated during most of the day. Even when he was experiencing a spasm of muscular and/or spine pain he was philosophically resigned but not letting it t detract from his positive mood.
Friends called in for a cup of tea and a hot cross bun during the afternoon. I held open house from 2.00 to 4.30. they finally left at 6.15 p.m. I think it was the first time for many months they felt welcome and relaxed and around MyMan. He also enjoyed their company. It was the most light hearted few hours we have enjoyed together socially for years. It reminded me of 'the good old days'.
Today we are just having a quiet time at home in the garden. It's bright, warm, sunny and we both feel quite relaxed.
Happy Easter to you all . . . . . . . . .
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Muddle Muddle Toil and Trouble
Muddle muddle toil and trouble in our small world.
MyMan still likes to make the decisions on financial matters. But it is becoming more onerous task for him. I take care of the day to day movements of cash from savings accounts in and out of the current account to meet bills. I keep a list of various accounts on a the spreadsheet. A list that MyMan uses to complete the annual tax assessment forms. But although he has a print out each month he is not retaining the information.
Another worrying example is that he cannot remember opening some of the fixed term savings which are now coming up for the end of term. One particular account he asked me twice did we have a Bond with X Bank. Yes we have. He then told me that we have to access it via a PIN and Password. No trace of which can be found. I've searched high and low. He doesn't remember completing a form to select a 'memorable number' and a 'memorable word'. I asked to look at the paperwork. He has written all the information down bar the security details.
The bond was taken out when I was about to take a break away. He asked me to sign the cheque before I left as he didn't want to miss the good offer. I seem to recall his telling me the word and number he'd decided to use. I assumed he had written them down for safe keeping. Being preoccupied I didn't check. Now I realise that I can't assume anything.
He's very annoyed that we are missing out on securing the next 'good' fixed term deal. But the bank will not allow me to authorise transfer until I can confirm the 'memorable number and password'. Security details will have to be 'reset'. Being the Easter weekend the bank is unable to send out the relevant forms until Tuesday after the bank holiday .
I was able to supply names, date of birth, address and account number along with the typo error they have been using in my name on all statements I am annoyed they couldn't then telephone me back using the number they have on their file to enable me to request the transfer of funds into their 'special limited offer' which closes on 13 April.
MyMan is very irritable and is blaming me for not retaining a note of the number and password. I think it is a form of displacement activity anger.
MyMan still likes to make the decisions on financial matters. But it is becoming more onerous task for him. I take care of the day to day movements of cash from savings accounts in and out of the current account to meet bills. I keep a list of various accounts on a the spreadsheet. A list that MyMan uses to complete the annual tax assessment forms. But although he has a print out each month he is not retaining the information.
Another worrying example is that he cannot remember opening some of the fixed term savings which are now coming up for the end of term. One particular account he asked me twice did we have a Bond with X Bank. Yes we have. He then told me that we have to access it via a PIN and Password. No trace of which can be found. I've searched high and low. He doesn't remember completing a form to select a 'memorable number' and a 'memorable word'. I asked to look at the paperwork. He has written all the information down bar the security details.
The bond was taken out when I was about to take a break away. He asked me to sign the cheque before I left as he didn't want to miss the good offer. I seem to recall his telling me the word and number he'd decided to use. I assumed he had written them down for safe keeping. Being preoccupied I didn't check. Now I realise that I can't assume anything.
He's very annoyed that we are missing out on securing the next 'good' fixed term deal. But the bank will not allow me to authorise transfer until I can confirm the 'memorable number and password'. Security details will have to be 'reset'. Being the Easter weekend the bank is unable to send out the relevant forms until Tuesday after the bank holiday .
I was able to supply names, date of birth, address and account number along with the typo error they have been using in my name on all statements I am annoyed they couldn't then telephone me back using the number they have on their file to enable me to request the transfer of funds into their 'special limited offer' which closes on 13 April.
MyMan is very irritable and is blaming me for not retaining a note of the number and password. I think it is a form of displacement activity anger.
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Friends Reunited
MyMan surprised me this morning. He suddenly said he would like to try and make contact with an old friend, John M. He used ot go to school with him and they were cycling companions. In fact John was with MyMan when he had his first road traffic accident. Age 16 he'd been hit by a motorcylist emerging from a side road. This in the 1960s when cyclists did not wear protective clothing.
Having an unusual surname I said I would Google John M and see what I could find. I found him straight away - first hit on the list - was John M, an estate agent and surveyor in Kent. It mentioned that he had lived in South Africa for a few years. True - that was how he and MyMan had lost touch with each other. The second item on Google search results list told me he had died in August.
I found his Friends Reunited page which made no mention of his death. Not surprising. It's a shame that family members can't post something up as a notice. It said he was divorced with children. And that he was enjoying life and happy. I printed off the newspaper item of his brief biography and about his death at the beginning of August. I feel sad over the death of a man I never met. And sad for MyMan.
Having an unusual surname I said I would Google John M and see what I could find. I found him straight away - first hit on the list - was John M, an estate agent and surveyor in Kent. It mentioned that he had lived in South Africa for a few years. True - that was how he and MyMan had lost touch with each other. The second item on Google search results list told me he had died in August.
I found his Friends Reunited page which made no mention of his death. Not surprising. It's a shame that family members can't post something up as a notice. It said he was divorced with children. And that he was enjoying life and happy. I printed off the newspaper item of his brief biography and about his death at the beginning of August. I feel sad over the death of a man I never met. And sad for MyMan.
More Trips Out
Well we are soon to take more trips over towards the west. MyMan has an appointment to see the ENT specialist to try and find out if anything can be done to help with his sinus problem. Hopefully without re-starting the dreadful nose bleeds. He'll start getting anxious soon about making the trip to the hospital. Not the hospital that worries him but the travelling. He is still very uncomfortable as a driver and as a passenger. Everyone else on the road is seen as a potential threat. An accident waiting to happen. It's beginning to make me more nervous than usual.
He is also awaiting an assessment for his memory problem and I am to be referred for a Carer' s Assessment. I certainly could do with some outside help. Even if it is to chew over whether there is anything I am doing that is holding MyMan back. A few sessions of counselling wouldn't go amiss. Sometimes I don't know which way to turn. It still feels 'disloyal' to talk about MyMan and the difficulty I now have in dealing with him and his 'moods' and aggression.
As I told him - if there is no diagnosis of dementia and he 'is just turning into a grumpy old man' then I can lose my temper too and give as good as I get. But if he's ill then hopefully I'll get some advice on the best way to cope with our feelings and advice on how best to cope.
He is also awaiting an assessment for his memory problem and I am to be referred for a Carer' s Assessment. I certainly could do with some outside help. Even if it is to chew over whether there is anything I am doing that is holding MyMan back. A few sessions of counselling wouldn't go amiss. Sometimes I don't know which way to turn. It still feels 'disloyal' to talk about MyMan and the difficulty I now have in dealing with him and his 'moods' and aggression.
As I told him - if there is no diagnosis of dementia and he 'is just turning into a grumpy old man' then I can lose my temper too and give as good as I get. But if he's ill then hopefully I'll get some advice on the best way to cope with our feelings and advice on how best to cope.
Saturday, 21 March 2009
Organising a Trip Out
A fine warm sunny spring day and MyMan wanted for the two of us to take a trip out 'somewhere'. He also wanted to watch the rugby this afternoon. So a trip out in the morning then. When he voiced this thought I was still in my dressing gown. At 9.30 - with no commitments I was taking a leisurely start to the day. "Fine" I said "Lovely, where shall we go?". He didn't know and wanted me to suggest a place.
"Well, how about Seaton and the easy walk along the prom?" No - he doesn't like Seaton. I then suggested in turn Exmouth, Topsham, Budleigh Salterton or a walk along the Otter valley, Sidmouth, Honiton, Axminster. Not one of them did he feel any interest. I then said that he was to tell me where he wanted to go. He wanted to go somewhere he'd "never been before". I suggested he get the book of maps out and then tell me where we were going. I went and dressed ready to go. He was surprised at how quickly I was ready.
While dressing I had the thought that many friends have enjoyed a coffee at Kings Garden Centre in Exmouth. We'd not been there. "Let's just go and try it". The map had to come out. I had a rough idea where it was. Down Dinan Way then at the end turn right on Hulham Road and then it would be on the right. He said it would be easier to approach it from the A376 but I pointed out that we had to go to Topsham to pick up the road to come back down to Exmouth. I didn't say it but would add miles that he wouldn't want to travel. I assured him that it would be easy to find and not as he thought in a crowded built up area.
By the time he had changed and was ready to go he was having second thoughts. He thought perhaps I was "not really keen on going out". I assured him I was. Then he said he didn't think he was up to going out to a crowded place on the day before Mother's day when it would be full of "people looking for Mother's Day gifts". He didn't want to queue for coffee. He didn't want crowds.
After much discussion we ended up going to a garden centre with which he's very familiar - he must feel that familiar is safe. At least he enjoyed the change of scene for an hour and he managed to endure the 20 minute drive each way.
"Well, how about Seaton and the easy walk along the prom?" No - he doesn't like Seaton. I then suggested in turn Exmouth, Topsham, Budleigh Salterton or a walk along the Otter valley, Sidmouth, Honiton, Axminster. Not one of them did he feel any interest. I then said that he was to tell me where he wanted to go. He wanted to go somewhere he'd "never been before". I suggested he get the book of maps out and then tell me where we were going. I went and dressed ready to go. He was surprised at how quickly I was ready.
While dressing I had the thought that many friends have enjoyed a coffee at Kings Garden Centre in Exmouth. We'd not been there. "Let's just go and try it". The map had to come out. I had a rough idea where it was. Down Dinan Way then at the end turn right on Hulham Road and then it would be on the right. He said it would be easier to approach it from the A376 but I pointed out that we had to go to Topsham to pick up the road to come back down to Exmouth. I didn't say it but would add miles that he wouldn't want to travel. I assured him that it would be easy to find and not as he thought in a crowded built up area.
By the time he had changed and was ready to go he was having second thoughts. He thought perhaps I was "not really keen on going out". I assured him I was. Then he said he didn't think he was up to going out to a crowded place on the day before Mother's day when it would be full of "people looking for Mother's Day gifts". He didn't want to queue for coffee. He didn't want crowds.
After much discussion we ended up going to a garden centre with which he's very familiar - he must feel that familiar is safe. At least he enjoyed the change of scene for an hour and he managed to endure the 20 minute drive each way.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
A Form of Relief
MyMan went to see the doctor this morning. He has bad sinus problems and doesn't know how to deal with it after his recent nasal haemorrhage. He had a bad day yesterday and couldn't connect his thinking or speech at all well. I thought he would want my assistance. But he insisted on seeing the doctor alone this morning.
I was surprised and kind of relieved to hear that MyMan also told him some of his worry about short term memory and comprehension problems. MyMan even told him that I was also concerned. And that "she's the most sensible, pragmatic and grounded person I know". Is that another kind of compliment?
The doctor is going to refer him for tests.
I was surprised and kind of relieved to hear that MyMan also told him some of his worry about short term memory and comprehension problems. MyMan even told him that I was also concerned. And that "she's the most sensible, pragmatic and grounded person I know". Is that another kind of compliment?
The doctor is going to refer him for tests.
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
Tired and Distracted or Confused
We are still having a bad time of it. I am tired and full of aches and pains. MyMan is tired, distracted and confused. He is bothered that he can't remember some conversations we have had in the last 3 hours. I am still not sure whether he has a short term memory problem or is just doing that 'man thing' of not concentrating or listening properly. Talk about 'Men are from Mars . . .'.
I tried to lighten his anxiety by telling him that when he's in pain I can see his concentration waning as I speak .. . . but he feels 'there is something wrong'. I suggested that we talk it over with the doctor but he's not ready for that - yet.
On occasions he can act aggressively. Unlike the man I know and love he is often short tempered and aggressive with others. He seems to have lost the skill of considering others feelings and viewpoints. He has upset 3 window cleaners and 2 sets of neighbours. I'll have to live with grubby windows until I can find another window cleaner willing to come out here 4 times a year .
I was really pleased the other day when he came in from his short daily walk to tell me he had apologised to our new young neighbours. He said they are really nice. Well, that's a relief. The fact that he had been rude and abrupt with them but remembered his 'rudeness' and was able later to apologise makes him a Meldrew type rather than verging on dementia. Doesn't it?
The anger, confusion, aggression and the blankness I sometimes see in his eyes still worry me. Is it Old Timers Disease or not?
I tried to lighten his anxiety by telling him that when he's in pain I can see his concentration waning as I speak .. . . but he feels 'there is something wrong'. I suggested that we talk it over with the doctor but he's not ready for that - yet.
On occasions he can act aggressively. Unlike the man I know and love he is often short tempered and aggressive with others. He seems to have lost the skill of considering others feelings and viewpoints. He has upset 3 window cleaners and 2 sets of neighbours. I'll have to live with grubby windows until I can find another window cleaner willing to come out here 4 times a year .
I was really pleased the other day when he came in from his short daily walk to tell me he had apologised to our new young neighbours. He said they are really nice. Well, that's a relief. The fact that he had been rude and abrupt with them but remembered his 'rudeness' and was able later to apologise makes him a Meldrew type rather than verging on dementia. Doesn't it?
The anger, confusion, aggression and the blankness I sometimes see in his eyes still worry me. Is it Old Timers Disease or not?
Saturday, 7 March 2009
Do It Yourself
MyMan decided to have new bedroom furniture when we swapped bedrooms. We placed an order with a local firm who are very helpful in removing old furniture to their Auction Rooms and also in moving other heavy items around in order to accommodate the new furniture.
We have one doorway which is rather narrow and awkward. MyMan insisted on removing the door from it's hinges before the delivery. I said the men would do this when they delivered. But he insisted it was easily done and would save them time. I was out when the furniture was delivered. And so missed the fact that a second door had also to be lifted from it's hinges. The men replaced this before they left and offered to do the same for the first door. MyMan wouldn't let them he said he "could manage".
We lived with the door off the frame for 3 days before he asked me to help hold it on the hinges while he dropped the pins in place. I found it hard, heavy and cumbersome. We were working in a confined space. I couldn't hold it steady enough for long enough for the pins to drop in. Beside the door had warped slightly and the pins wouldn't drop or, when he tried it, hammer into place. I suggested a spot of lubrication might help. This was refused as 'not necessary'. After stuggling to stop the door falling on his head I demanded a rest. At this point I found which pin fell into which hinge and told him that there was one particular pin for the top and another for the bottom. He got scratchy and said there should be 'no difference'. Maybe not but if he'd like to try it for himself there was one pin that refused to slide easily into the slots unless it was at the top. While I was at it I lubricated the pins with a bit of polish.
Perhaps we could change positions. I suggested he support the door against the frame while I tried to slide the pins into place. Another sensible suggestion shot down. It was at this stage that he told me he'd refused the offer by the delivery men to re-hang the door for us. Well at this point I withdrew my labour and downed tools. I went on strike. He was angry and increasingly irritable. I was beginning to join him. I was getting a stiff neck. My shoulders and hands were cramping.
I retreated to the kitchen and left him to sort out his problem. Eventually he managed by balancing the door on a wedge. He agreed the pins slid in easily enough providing they were the right way round. Murder most foul was very nearly committed. But he lives to tell the tale.
We have one doorway which is rather narrow and awkward. MyMan insisted on removing the door from it's hinges before the delivery. I said the men would do this when they delivered. But he insisted it was easily done and would save them time. I was out when the furniture was delivered. And so missed the fact that a second door had also to be lifted from it's hinges. The men replaced this before they left and offered to do the same for the first door. MyMan wouldn't let them he said he "could manage".
We lived with the door off the frame for 3 days before he asked me to help hold it on the hinges while he dropped the pins in place. I found it hard, heavy and cumbersome. We were working in a confined space. I couldn't hold it steady enough for long enough for the pins to drop in. Beside the door had warped slightly and the pins wouldn't drop or, when he tried it, hammer into place. I suggested a spot of lubrication might help. This was refused as 'not necessary'. After stuggling to stop the door falling on his head I demanded a rest. At this point I found which pin fell into which hinge and told him that there was one particular pin for the top and another for the bottom. He got scratchy and said there should be 'no difference'. Maybe not but if he'd like to try it for himself there was one pin that refused to slide easily into the slots unless it was at the top. While I was at it I lubricated the pins with a bit of polish.
Perhaps we could change positions. I suggested he support the door against the frame while I tried to slide the pins into place. Another sensible suggestion shot down. It was at this stage that he told me he'd refused the offer by the delivery men to re-hang the door for us. Well at this point I withdrew my labour and downed tools. I went on strike. He was angry and increasingly irritable. I was beginning to join him. I was getting a stiff neck. My shoulders and hands were cramping.
I retreated to the kitchen and left him to sort out his problem. Eventually he managed by balancing the door on a wedge. He agreed the pins slid in easily enough providing they were the right way round. Murder most foul was very nearly committed. But he lives to tell the tale.
It's Been a Rather Tiresome Time
It's been a rather tiresome time over the last 3 weeks or so. My 60th birthday passed in a blur. I remember the cards, gifts and the tea party. Unfortunately I also remember the stress and anxiety. It has taken us about 2 weeks to regain our equilibrium again. MyMan suffered from socialising fall out syndrome.
Most of my friends at the party have also been unwell. When I do venture out to socialise most of the daily chat is about hospital or doctors appointments. Is this all life is about when one becomes 60? Or is it that as my home life so much revolves around MyMan's state of health I'm more conscious of my need for more light hearted social chat? Previously I've offered unlimited empathic listening but now I just don't don't have it in me. I feel permanently hassled, stressed, anxious and worried. I don't have room to be supportive to others. This isn't like me at all. All my working life has been involved in the health or caring services. But I now feel used up and burnt out. I no longer feel I know myself now. I'm different.
During the 1970/80's I spent 8 years as a Samaritan with the Gloucester Branch. I remember when I went for interview we were asked whether we had a family member who suffered from depression. There was one lady who was 'rejected' as she had a partner with depression and being a Samaritan would place far too heavy a demand on her. I can see their point now.
I think that had I known I was to end my later years being an unpaid carer I would have chosen a different career path. Caring as a career is stressful. I had looked forward to a stress free relaxed retirement. The only difference being that if I make a mistake as a caring spouse I only get nagged. Or, if I'm in a bad mood, we have an argument.
I don't have to keep report writing to 'cover my back' - just in case; sending copies of reports to all agencies involved, checking on Health and Safety at Work issues, solving staffing problems, counselling staff, ensuring staff are adequately trained and capable. I have no worry about falling down on the job and facing disciplinary action. No worry about ending up in court.
Not unless I murder MyMan.
Most of my friends at the party have also been unwell. When I do venture out to socialise most of the daily chat is about hospital or doctors appointments. Is this all life is about when one becomes 60? Or is it that as my home life so much revolves around MyMan's state of health I'm more conscious of my need for more light hearted social chat? Previously I've offered unlimited empathic listening but now I just don't don't have it in me. I feel permanently hassled, stressed, anxious and worried. I don't have room to be supportive to others. This isn't like me at all. All my working life has been involved in the health or caring services. But I now feel used up and burnt out. I no longer feel I know myself now. I'm different.
During the 1970/80's I spent 8 years as a Samaritan with the Gloucester Branch. I remember when I went for interview we were asked whether we had a family member who suffered from depression. There was one lady who was 'rejected' as she had a partner with depression and being a Samaritan would place far too heavy a demand on her. I can see their point now.
I think that had I known I was to end my later years being an unpaid carer I would have chosen a different career path. Caring as a career is stressful. I had looked forward to a stress free relaxed retirement. The only difference being that if I make a mistake as a caring spouse I only get nagged. Or, if I'm in a bad mood, we have an argument.
I don't have to keep report writing to 'cover my back' - just in case; sending copies of reports to all agencies involved, checking on Health and Safety at Work issues, solving staffing problems, counselling staff, ensuring staff are adequately trained and capable. I have no worry about falling down on the job and facing disciplinary action. No worry about ending up in court.
Not unless I murder MyMan.
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Pensioner Pisces Parties
I have been inudated with flowers, cards, chocolates and a watercolour of 3 fancy goldfish for my 60th birthday. The DWP also sent me a letter to tell me that my pension would be paid into my bank account on the following Monday. The DWP Carers Section sent me a letter to tell me that my Carer's Allowance will cease. But that I will contine to have an 'underlying entitlement' to Carer's Allowance. Thanks.MyMan made a noble effort to celebrate the day. The effort took a lot out of him. I found it exhausting watching him. But I appreciated his attempt. It's just that I could see what it was doing to himand it upset me.
A friend said I couldn't be allowed to not celebrate the day. She arranged an afternoon tea party for me. Sadly it was a struggle for her too. She was distracted and tense as her husband was unwell. In the event he had a dizzy turn and dropped the tray of champagne filled glasses. Unusually for him he retired to bed. It was the first time she had entertained guests while she was so worried about her man. She said the time passed in a blur and she could remember very little. She partied on autopilot. I know the feeling. That's why I rarely arrange social events at home. Stress on top of stress is just unbearable.
The silver lining is that I now have one local friend who has had a taste of what it is like to be a carer. And why I have ceased entertaining at home.
Friday, 13 February 2009
A Bleeding Free Zone
I'm pleased to report that we have been a bleeding free zone for several weeks now. MyMan has been very quiet. He has been 'lazy'. He has not strained or lifted a muscle. He watched TV, listened to the radio, read the daily papers and books. But he did not bleed. We haven't seen an ambulance outside our house since early January. Slowly life is returning to normal. Well, our version of 'normal'.
The less he did the more relaxed he became. The less he did the less pain he suffered. The less pain he suffered the more mellow his mood became. It's been quite a pleasure to live with him over the last month. The less he did the more I had to do. My muscles are suffering from over work and over effort. I became tired and wrung out. But content as there was no friction between us. I remembered why I love him.
After a bleed free month MyMan started to step up his activities. He started to do his small daily walks again. Pottering on various small jobs around the house. Activity brought on increased pain. As his pain level increased so did his irritability and irrational outbursts. As his irritability increased so did our little bickering arguments over trivial misunderstandings.
If we want to live together in happy harmony I think he needs to become a couch potato, permanently.
The less he did the more relaxed he became. The less he did the less pain he suffered. The less pain he suffered the more mellow his mood became. It's been quite a pleasure to live with him over the last month. The less he did the more I had to do. My muscles are suffering from over work and over effort. I became tired and wrung out. But content as there was no friction between us. I remembered why I love him.
After a bleed free month MyMan started to step up his activities. He started to do his small daily walks again. Pottering on various small jobs around the house. Activity brought on increased pain. As his pain level increased so did his irritability and irrational outbursts. As his irritability increased so did our little bickering arguments over trivial misunderstandings.
If we want to live together in happy harmony I think he needs to become a couch potato, permanently.
Saturday, 10 January 2009
The Latest Elephant in the Room
As I said in my last post it feels as if there is another elephant in the room. At the moment we no longer worry about dementia or memory problems. Now our worries are centred around whether or not he is about to start another nose bleed. He is not an easy patient. By no means a patient patient. He is frustrated at being kept quiet. Only reading or watching TV. I remind him that if they had a spare bed available they would have kept him on the ENT ward for 7 days complete bed rest. At least here at home he can sit in the lounge to watch TV or amble to the toilet.
This last mad dash over to A&E was a bit stressful. I wasn't my usual level headed and organised wife/carer. I forgot minor little things when I visited. I forgot to take slippers. I failed to leave him with money. I forgot to leave him a pen and notepad. I did remember a comb and to re- charge his shaver. I did put credit on his patientline and show him how to use the system before I left for home. So I wasn't a complete careless carer.
He wants now to be prepared for another urgent dash to the hospital. So we are talking about this "elephant in the room". He has made a list of what he would want if he's kept in overnight. And items he would like if he is in more than one night. We are going to pack a bag and leave it in readiness in the wardrobe. If I'm not at home when he is spirited away by the paramedics then like a boy scout he will be prepared. I can just pick up the bag and follow along once we know if he is to be kept as an inpatient again.
This last mad dash over to A&E was a bit stressful. I wasn't my usual level headed and organised wife/carer. I forgot minor little things when I visited. I forgot to take slippers. I failed to leave him with money. I forgot to leave him a pen and notepad. I did remember a comb and to re- charge his shaver. I did put credit on his patientline and show him how to use the system before I left for home. So I wasn't a complete careless carer.
He wants now to be prepared for another urgent dash to the hospital. So we are talking about this "elephant in the room". He has made a list of what he would want if he's kept in overnight. And items he would like if he is in more than one night. We are going to pack a bag and leave it in readiness in the wardrobe. If I'm not at home when he is spirited away by the paramedics then like a boy scout he will be prepared. I can just pick up the bag and follow along once we know if he is to be kept as an inpatient again.
Friday, 9 January 2009
999 for Emergencies
Once the hospital were able to find a bed for MyMan he was confined to complete bed rest for 24 hours with his nostril plugged. Once the plug was removed he was told to gently walk about for a while. Then the ENT specialist examined his nasal passages. He could not see anything that would explain where all the blood was coming from. So like the local DynoRod expert he employed a camera to negotiate the passage ways to see if he could find the cause of the bleeding. Nothing. So, once again the problem appears to be really high up. High up where they are "reluctant to operate unless we have to".
The only re-assurance we have is that we are not over re-acting by dialling 999 when we can't stop a bleed within 15 minutes. The extent of his bleeding isn't a minor matter. It is a bit more than 'nuisance level'. I find it very worrying and quite stressful. I also find it stressful in keeping my own anxiety from being seen by MyMan. There is another elephant in the room.
The only re-assurance we have is that we are not over re-acting by dialling 999 when we can't stop a bleed within 15 minutes. The extent of his bleeding isn't a minor matter. It is a bit more than 'nuisance level'. I find it very worrying and quite stressful. I also find it stressful in keeping my own anxiety from being seen by MyMan. There is another elephant in the room.
Respite
The last occasion that My Man was an in-patient,5 years ago, visiting times were 'any reasonable hour.' He would ask me to go over to see him as early as possible. Although semi comatose on a wave of morphine he would lie there, cling to my hand and ask me to stay as long as possible.Now there has been a change for the better, visiting hours are restricted from 2.30 to 8 p.m. Much more civilised for us visitors. It's all very well for the patient. Lying there on complete bed rest with all meals provided. But for those of us still in the outside world:
- with at least a 45 minute journey each way - providing there is no ice on the roads, roadworks or an accident to negotiate.
- astronomical car park charges.
- along with the need to do basic chores, get a meal for self and field numerous phone calls from friends and relatives.
Having a spouse in hospital is no rest. MyMan may have been an inpatient for only 3 days but I found the whole event exhausting. At the end of each phone call many recommended that I take the opportunity to spoil myself. I was looking forward to a glass of wine, a meal and a DVD of Mama Mia before a hot shower and bed. As it was so many friends would call to check how I was and how MyMan was doing, that I barely had time for any of my planned indulgences.
I did love the solitude. I slept really soundly. Not one of the night time noises from prowling animals [badgers, foxes or the mice in the loft] disturbed my slumbers. Regardless of the noises, I seemed to know it wasn't caused by MyMan in need of help and I slept on carefree.Wednesday, 7 January 2009
Bloody Waste of Time
A quiet Christmas, an even quieter New year yet still that bloody nose would suddenly erupt. I practically forced bed rest on him. Anything that might give us a few days clear of the bleeding nuisance. I went out earlier this week for hair appointment. Five minutes after I had left he had a gusher.
He called for an ambulance and was carted off once again to RD&E hospital. When I came home and found an empty house I didn't rush over to Exeter. I played it low key. I put my shopping away, made coffee, checked the post then rang to see what was happening. He was being examined by an ENT specialist. I still didn't rush over to be with him. Eventually he rang to say he was being admitted for an overnight stay. I then rushed over with all I considered essential to a man enjoying B&B courtesy of the NHS. He didn't want half of it. I forgot a bar of soap.
I think if I'd been with him in A&E they might have thought once again "she looks sensible" and sent him home under my tender care. For some reason medics tell me "you seem a sensible woman" - I'm not sure if it's a compliment or not. I can think of better. That's why I didn't rush over. I didn't want to influence their decision.
He called for an ambulance and was carted off once again to RD&E hospital. When I came home and found an empty house I didn't rush over to Exeter. I played it low key. I put my shopping away, made coffee, checked the post then rang to see what was happening. He was being examined by an ENT specialist. I still didn't rush over to be with him. Eventually he rang to say he was being admitted for an overnight stay. I then rushed over with all I considered essential to a man enjoying B&B courtesy of the NHS. He didn't want half of it. I forgot a bar of soap.
I think if I'd been with him in A&E they might have thought once again "she looks sensible" and sent him home under my tender care. For some reason medics tell me "you seem a sensible woman" - I'm not sure if it's a compliment or not. I can think of better. That's why I didn't rush over. I didn't want to influence their decision.
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Frankincense and Myrrh
Frankincense and Myrrh - seasonal aromas and offerings . It was interesting that Chickpea recently referred to them in her comment on an earlier post. Interesting as I had the both frankincense and myrrh incense sticks here in readiness for burning on New Year's Day.
Thanks to all of you that take the time to pause here and read. And for those that leave comments, thoughts and suggestions. I appreciate them all.
Wishing you and those you care for, all best wishes for the new year.
Thanks to all of you that take the time to pause here and read. And for those that leave comments, thoughts and suggestions. I appreciate them all.
Wishing you and those you care for, all best wishes for the new year.
Monday, 29 December 2008
What a Bleeding Nuisance
Yes - another nosebleed. A rather ominous large free flowing bleed from both nostrils. Difficult to stop. MyMan became anxious. His blood pressure started to rise. As it rose the blood flowed evermore freely.
This morning my car was due to go in for plastic surgery in the body shop. To repair damage caused by my meeting with White Van Man. At the last minute I had to cancel the arrangement. As I write I'm not sure if we will have to go over to A&E Dept Exeter or not.
All the relaxed feelings that I talked about in yesterday's post have dissipated. Talk about a roller coaster ride. Ah well, That's Life I suppose.
This morning my car was due to go in for plastic surgery in the body shop. To repair damage caused by my meeting with White Van Man. At the last minute I had to cancel the arrangement. As I write I'm not sure if we will have to go over to A&E Dept Exeter or not.
All the relaxed feelings that I talked about in yesterday's post have dissipated. Talk about a roller coaster ride. Ah well, That's Life I suppose.
Sunday, 28 December 2008
Out With The Old
Out with the Old and in with the New. Year that is. Christmas is over. We survived. We are still here. Still married. And neither of us murdered the other.
I did the right thing this year. I didn't put up decorations. I didn't party or arrange to hold a party. I didn't do anything seasonal at all. Other than buy a turkey for us to have a traditional lunch with all the trimmings. That was my only concession to the Christmas festivities. That was only because it suited me as a cook and general provider of food. Once the turkey was cooked I get a week off food preparation. No need to think "what shall we eat tonight". Don't even ask. It's going to be cold turkey for days with either bubble and squeak or salad with mashed potatoes.
MyMan was far more relaxed as there was no pressure on him to socialise. With no pressure he made more of an effort to be sociable with me. We ate when hungry. Slept when tired. Read or watched TV. We didn't go out unless we went together. That removed any anxiety he experiences when I go out and he remains at home: Alone with his own thoughts.
3BT's
I did the right thing this year. I didn't put up decorations. I didn't party or arrange to hold a party. I didn't do anything seasonal at all. Other than buy a turkey for us to have a traditional lunch with all the trimmings. That was my only concession to the Christmas festivities. That was only because it suited me as a cook and general provider of food. Once the turkey was cooked I get a week off food preparation. No need to think "what shall we eat tonight". Don't even ask. It's going to be cold turkey for days with either bubble and squeak or salad with mashed potatoes.
MyMan was far more relaxed as there was no pressure on him to socialise. With no pressure he made more of an effort to be sociable with me. We ate when hungry. Slept when tired. Read or watched TV. We didn't go out unless we went together. That removed any anxiety he experiences when I go out and he remains at home: Alone with his own thoughts.3BT's
- MyMan surprised me with a Christmas gift. The first for over 7 years. He'd managed to secretly buy a large mirrored jewellry box that now sits on my dressing table. I have a wedding ring, a watch and 6 pairs of earrings in it. They look lost in the vast empty space. I'll have to get myself some more jewels now that I have a box for them.
- He sat and relaxed enough to watch the long tailed tits feeding in the garden. He thought they were beautiful. It's good to see him appreciate the good things in life. Taking time to sit and stare.
- Besides watching a few [well quite a few, several in fact] football matches he also finished reading a book. He wants to read more and is going to collect some large print books from the library to make it easier.
As I said in an earlier post - he is beginning to accept, adjust and adapt. Perhaps the new year will bring further improvements. He isn't the only one who need's to adjust. I also can see that it makes life easier for him if I also make adjustments. In the new year we'll have to work on a happy balance.
Monday, 22 December 2008
Christmas Cheer
Although I am disappointed that we haven't made much progress over this year I do have much for which to be grateful. And on reflection I feel some improvement in my general attitude compared to when I started to blog.
I am pleased that MyMan and I exchanged bedrooms. He is happier in the smaller quieter room. I have still to release my PC desk from 'captivity' in his bedroom. But hope that we'll be able to do so early in the new year. Friends have offered to lend some muscle. I love my pink room and having much greater wardrobe space and storage.
We managed to sell my lovely old [circa 1995] Rover 216 a few months ago. We are still in the process of deciding which car to buy next. After much time and effort we are down to 2 possible contenders. Citroen C4 Grand Picasso or the Nissan Cashcow (Qashqai). We both love the Honda CRV but MyMan finds it a bit too high for easy access even though I offered to buy a step stool. The Nissan drives beautifully and feels more solid than my Jazz. Even more so after my recent dust up with a white van man in Sidford. The Citroen feels spacious and comfortable but I've yet try it on a test drive.
Having attended several funerals this year I realise that although I feel sad I'm no longer gripped by feelings of intense grief. I have recovered from bereavement; of the loss of close family members such as my father, a much loved uncle and our 2 cats. Although I still occasionally feel a very deep sadness and frustration that life and 'retirement' is not going as I would wish I am coping better. I am 'down' for a shorter period. I no longer try to bottle up my feelings. I whinge, rant and gripe here on my blog. I also feel free to have a weep to let it out. Sometimes in front of MyMan. He knows his depression, angry irritability, forgetfulness and withdrawal from social situations affects me. I no longer feel I have to hide my feelings. To bottle it all up until I'm alone in a car somewhere. I still do try to keep a smiling stiff upper lip but it sometimes trembles over the loose flabby bottom lip.
Money worries are less pressing. Well, they are so long as no other British bank, building society or any other financial institution holding my pension or savings go bust.
Bridge lessons have opened up a whole new avenue for me. There are so many single people playing [widows, divorced people and married but with partners who can't stand card games] that I fit in well. Even a married couple are taking lessons but will not play with each other. The game is fun, stimulating, challenging, sociable, intellectually demanding, intriguing and absorbs a great many of my overactive brain cells. When I've played bridge my mind feels more settled and I sleep better. I don't lie awake worrying about problems so often as I used to. I love learning new skills. The more challenging the better.
I am beginning to find I am able to concentrate on reading again. I can lose myself for a short while in a good book. I do try to choose happier, heart warming and uplifting tales. I see no reason to read dreary depressing stories. I want escapism.
One main change in MyMan is he feels less resistant to using the Blue Badge for parking. It has been very useful for hospital appointments and visits to the solicitor in Exeter city centre. It has reduced the pressure on my trying to find somewhere suitable to drop him off, rushing off to find a parking space then rush back to pick him up again. He is also considering using a walking stick. Finally he is using more pain medication and intends to request a re-referral to the pain management centre. He is no longer fighting to ignore that he is unable to carry on as 'normal'. I think he continued to hope he'd improve. Now that realises he is slowly getting worse he is going to take any help that is on offer. I think finally he is accepting that 'this is it'.
I am pleased that MyMan and I exchanged bedrooms. He is happier in the smaller quieter room. I have still to release my PC desk from 'captivity' in his bedroom. But hope that we'll be able to do so early in the new year. Friends have offered to lend some muscle. I love my pink room and having much greater wardrobe space and storage.
We managed to sell my lovely old [circa 1995] Rover 216 a few months ago. We are still in the process of deciding which car to buy next. After much time and effort we are down to 2 possible contenders. Citroen C4 Grand Picasso or the Nissan Cashcow (Qashqai). We both love the Honda CRV but MyMan finds it a bit too high for easy access even though I offered to buy a step stool. The Nissan drives beautifully and feels more solid than my Jazz. Even more so after my recent dust up with a white van man in Sidford. The Citroen feels spacious and comfortable but I've yet try it on a test drive.
Having attended several funerals this year I realise that although I feel sad I'm no longer gripped by feelings of intense grief. I have recovered from bereavement; of the loss of close family members such as my father, a much loved uncle and our 2 cats. Although I still occasionally feel a very deep sadness and frustration that life and 'retirement' is not going as I would wish I am coping better. I am 'down' for a shorter period. I no longer try to bottle up my feelings. I whinge, rant and gripe here on my blog. I also feel free to have a weep to let it out. Sometimes in front of MyMan. He knows his depression, angry irritability, forgetfulness and withdrawal from social situations affects me. I no longer feel I have to hide my feelings. To bottle it all up until I'm alone in a car somewhere. I still do try to keep a smiling stiff upper lip but it sometimes trembles over the loose flabby bottom lip.
Money worries are less pressing. Well, they are so long as no other British bank, building society or any other financial institution holding my pension or savings go bust.
Bridge lessons have opened up a whole new avenue for me. There are so many single people playing [widows, divorced people and married but with partners who can't stand card games] that I fit in well. Even a married couple are taking lessons but will not play with each other. The game is fun, stimulating, challenging, sociable, intellectually demanding, intriguing and absorbs a great many of my overactive brain cells. When I've played bridge my mind feels more settled and I sleep better. I don't lie awake worrying about problems so often as I used to. I love learning new skills. The more challenging the better.
I am beginning to find I am able to concentrate on reading again. I can lose myself for a short while in a good book. I do try to choose happier, heart warming and uplifting tales. I see no reason to read dreary depressing stories. I want escapism.
One main change in MyMan is he feels less resistant to using the Blue Badge for parking. It has been very useful for hospital appointments and visits to the solicitor in Exeter city centre. It has reduced the pressure on my trying to find somewhere suitable to drop him off, rushing off to find a parking space then rush back to pick him up again. He is also considering using a walking stick. Finally he is using more pain medication and intends to request a re-referral to the pain management centre. He is no longer fighting to ignore that he is unable to carry on as 'normal'. I think he continued to hope he'd improve. Now that realises he is slowly getting worse he is going to take any help that is on offer. I think finally he is accepting that 'this is it'.
Thursday, 18 December 2008
Getting Up His Nose
We went to Wonford Hospital Exeter again on Tuesday. This time it was as an outpatient to the ENT department to see what could be done about his frequent nose bleeds. He was told that steroid allergy sprays are not suitable for him and to refuse any further prescriptions. They cauterised blood vessels while he was there. He may need a further treatment in 6 weeks. I'm hoping that he remains bleeding free until the next appointment.
Wednesday, 17 December 2008
Christmas Time - Tis the Season to be Jolly
It's reached that time of year again. When we are inclined to reflect on the last year. What we hoped to achieve. The changes we'd hoped to make. The changes we did or didn't make. The lost opportunities. And the chance to look forward to new opportunities; new beginnings, new dreams, hopes, aspirations.I remember writing last year that Christmas was going to be a very low key affair with no socialising. But as it is the time of year when I'm affected by winter sadness I've always been inclined to make Christmas an 'event'. To raise my spirits before dreary January sets in. Decorate a sparkling clean house. Shop, bake, cook and entertain. Party time. So far I've shopped. The house is far from sparkling. The decorations are down from the loft but remain in the box.
It's MyMan's birthday on Christmas day. Traditionally I've always made the first half of the day Birthday time with gifts and cards. Then after the traditional lunch we've enjoyed afternoon tea and cake with the opening of Christmas presents. Sometimes just the two of us. Others with family or friends. Sometimes away from home. MyMan has always said he thinks 'Christmas is not worth the effort'. In the days when he used to go out and about he would buy me gifts. He would get several small presents. Some were daft, scented, funny or thoughtful. I'm like a child at Christmas. I loved opening them. And appreciated every one. He used to make an effort to enjoy the season because I did. I still try to make an event of his birthday. But we haven't exchanged Christmas gifts for years. I miss that.
Over the last few years he's continued with the view that Christmas is not worth the effort. But now he makes no effort at all. I am tired; physically and mentally. I'm still trying to make some effort but I question whether it is really worth the energy I am expending on it. It brings him no cheer. And I can't be cheerful when there is no one to share in joy or laughter. And yet if I don't make the effort then his depression has defeated the two of us.
He made a real effort last year and we did have a couple of small social events. One at home and one with local friends. But each event caused additional stress and tension. His anxiety at socialising builds so much I no longer derive pleasure from the events. It just highlights how much we have changed. I never know till we actually come to walk out the door whether or not he will come with me. I feel even more of a carer when we are out together. So it's not a relaxing way to spend an evening. I need energy to cope. There is no way I would socialise without him over the festive season. So it does look like being a very quiet 4 day weekend.
At the end of last year he said how he would 'go mad' if he didn't have a break away from home. I was hopeful that I would be able to book us into our favourite Devon hotel for a Christmas break this year. We used to enjoy the holiday season there. But it is not to be. Home is where he feels able to cope. He's not happy but he is happier at home. Preferably quietly at home. Maybe, hopefully, next Christmas we'll feel seasonally cheerful . . .
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
Assisted Suicide
I was listening to the local radio phone in yesterday on the why's and wherefore's of legalising assisted suicide. I was in a cross crabby mood. 'Cobby' my grandmother would have called my mood. I've never heard the expression since she died in 1970. I assume it was an old Victorian Suffolk expression?
Anyway, I found myself thinking that it's a slippery slope to legalise assisted suicide. It would be too tempting sometimes. The mood I was in - if MyMan said he didn't think it was worth 'carrying on' or 'that life is pointless' again I might just have agreed with him and handed him the bullets.
Anyway, I found myself thinking that it's a slippery slope to legalise assisted suicide. It would be too tempting sometimes. The mood I was in - if MyMan said he didn't think it was worth 'carrying on' or 'that life is pointless' again I might just have agreed with him and handed him the bullets.
Sunday, 7 December 2008
Goodnight Sweetheart - Sweet Dreams
It's now almost 2 months since MyMan and I swapped bedrooms. When his new adjustable bed arrived. A softer bed with more give in the mattress. I'm pleased to say I was right. He finds it much more comfortable. It eases his back pain when he needs to rest in the afternoon. He is sleeping a bit better.
He has had many night mares and peculiar dreams. All connected with loss of control, accidents and sorting out other peoples problems in the work place. I'm not overly worried. I assume this is his mind sorting out worries that it's not been able to do over many sleepless years. Recently he had a more pleasant dream. This time when he dreamt he was lost someone came to help him and he 'felt less alone'.
What does worry me is that the softer mattress has highlighted just how weak his muscles have become. He can barely reach over to the bedside cabinet to turn the light or radio on/off. I'm hoping that better quality sleep will improve his general health enough so that we can look at building up his physical strength.
He has had many night mares and peculiar dreams. All connected with loss of control, accidents and sorting out other peoples problems in the work place. I'm not overly worried. I assume this is his mind sorting out worries that it's not been able to do over many sleepless years. Recently he had a more pleasant dream. This time when he dreamt he was lost someone came to help him and he 'felt less alone'.
What does worry me is that the softer mattress has highlighted just how weak his muscles have become. He can barely reach over to the bedside cabinet to turn the light or radio on/off. I'm hoping that better quality sleep will improve his general health enough so that we can look at building up his physical strength.
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Losing My Place
I thought that I was updating you all on this blog but not until I posted it did I realise I've inadvertently lost my place. So please just nip next door for a minute to catch up . . . on moving tales . . .
Hurt Feelings - Part 2
After a few weeks along with a few nights of a good deep sleep I now feel less venomous towards Kay and our time together. Normally I've been aware of her selfishness and impatience but have been able to absorb it with an inward smile. I know I've been far less tolerant than of old. So have been trying to re-assess the weekend with a more logical less tired brain. I refrained from posting a strongly worded letter. Contact between us has been less than usual. I've not responded so quickly to her texts or phone messages. But when she phoned me recently we had an innocuous chat for 20 minutes. I still find it hard to feel as friendly towards her. Obviously the hurt feelings I felt at the time have left a deep wound.
Occasionally I've caught myself thinking 'Kay would like that' when I've been browsing around the stores. But my cash has stayed firmly in my pocket with the thought that I could use it to treat myself to something instead. I am learning to be more selfish.
Occasionally I've caught myself thinking 'Kay would like that' when I've been browsing around the stores. But my cash has stayed firmly in my pocket with the thought that I could use it to treat myself to something instead. I am learning to be more selfish.
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
Bloody Hell
MyMan thought he'd dropped something on the floor. But as he looked he saw it was blood. A sudden nosebleed. After half and hour of sitting quietly trying to stem the flow he told me he was swallowing blood. I had some nasal plugs for emergencies such as this but we had gone through 4 of them in less than 30 minutes. I had no more left. The blood continued to drip off the end of the plug. I dialled 999. It seems such a small thing for which to dial 999 but I was just doing as previously instructed by the ENT department.
It was over 5 years ago that MyMan first had a sudden nosebleed. A few months after his RTA. It was a freezing cold day in early January when he told me early one morning that his nose was bleeding. I told him to go, sit quietly and pinch his nostrils for 15 mins. It stopped. He went to move - it started again. After a few hours of stop start bleeding he started to worry. I tried to calm him by telling him "if you lose a pint then we'll start to worry". It was Saturday so we went to the casualty department in Sidmouth hospital. By the time he saw a medic it had stopped. His blood pressure was sky high: "that's the cause" they said. "No it isn't" , I told them his BP is usually OK. It's the fear induced by the constant nosebleeds that is causing the high pertension. We were sent home twice from casualty with the advice it would stop eventually. 24 hours later it was still bleeding at intermittent intervals.
Then late in the evening when he was still unable to move a muscle without the bleeding starting afresh I bundled him in the car and drove over to Exeter A&E. Again, they treated us as if we were panicking. 'Very High blood pressure. See your doctor on Monday morning'. We insisted that he be seen by a doctor/surgeon. We received veiled threats of 'if they pack your nostrils - you wont like it'. Of course not, but what's the alternative?! In the end the ENT Registrar saw him - performed some dreadfully invasive procedure that made me feel a queasy voyeur. And said he should be admitted for 48 hours complete bed rest. Relieved to feel he was no longer my responsibility I returned home.
The next morning on arrival in the ward I was told he was heavily drugged with morphine as they had to pack both nostrils as the bleeding wouldn't cease. With both nostrils packed the blood had to go somewhere so he swallowed blood and his eyes oozed bloody tears. In the end he was in hospital for a week. He needed surgery for a burst blood vessel high up behind the nasal passage. A very rare occurence apparently. It could well have been weakened by whiplash effect of the RTA.
The week following his discharge our postman told him that he was in the same ward and the same bed - he knew this as his name was on the white board over the bed. Our postie had gone in for routine corrective surgery. We now tell anyone and everyone that MyMan and Steven have shared a bed.
On discharge we were sent home with the advice that in the event of any future bleeds that wont stop within half an hour to call an ambulance. So this time when it wouldn't I did.
Thankfully, last week after 3 hours in A&E they managed to stem the flow. The casualty doctor believes this bleed is not a burst blood vessel but possibly the result of side effects of using a steroid allergy spray prescribed for a sinus infection. This morning MyMan saw a locum who has prescribed antibiotics for a sinus infection he has had since May. The locum also explained that the infection could well have caused the bleeding and has advised that he requests an antibiotic cream to be prescribed for regular long term use on his next visit to the family doctor.
It was over 5 years ago that MyMan first had a sudden nosebleed. A few months after his RTA. It was a freezing cold day in early January when he told me early one morning that his nose was bleeding. I told him to go, sit quietly and pinch his nostrils for 15 mins. It stopped. He went to move - it started again. After a few hours of stop start bleeding he started to worry. I tried to calm him by telling him "if you lose a pint then we'll start to worry". It was Saturday so we went to the casualty department in Sidmouth hospital. By the time he saw a medic it had stopped. His blood pressure was sky high: "that's the cause" they said. "No it isn't" , I told them his BP is usually OK. It's the fear induced by the constant nosebleeds that is causing the high pertension. We were sent home twice from casualty with the advice it would stop eventually. 24 hours later it was still bleeding at intermittent intervals.
Then late in the evening when he was still unable to move a muscle without the bleeding starting afresh I bundled him in the car and drove over to Exeter A&E. Again, they treated us as if we were panicking. 'Very High blood pressure. See your doctor on Monday morning'. We insisted that he be seen by a doctor/surgeon. We received veiled threats of 'if they pack your nostrils - you wont like it'. Of course not, but what's the alternative?! In the end the ENT Registrar saw him - performed some dreadfully invasive procedure that made me feel a queasy voyeur. And said he should be admitted for 48 hours complete bed rest. Relieved to feel he was no longer my responsibility I returned home.
The next morning on arrival in the ward I was told he was heavily drugged with morphine as they had to pack both nostrils as the bleeding wouldn't cease. With both nostrils packed the blood had to go somewhere so he swallowed blood and his eyes oozed bloody tears. In the end he was in hospital for a week. He needed surgery for a burst blood vessel high up behind the nasal passage. A very rare occurence apparently. It could well have been weakened by whiplash effect of the RTA.
The week following his discharge our postman told him that he was in the same ward and the same bed - he knew this as his name was on the white board over the bed. Our postie had gone in for routine corrective surgery. We now tell anyone and everyone that MyMan and Steven have shared a bed.
On discharge we were sent home with the advice that in the event of any future bleeds that wont stop within half an hour to call an ambulance. So this time when it wouldn't I did.
Thankfully, last week after 3 hours in A&E they managed to stem the flow. The casualty doctor believes this bleed is not a burst blood vessel but possibly the result of side effects of using a steroid allergy spray prescribed for a sinus infection. This morning MyMan saw a locum who has prescribed antibiotics for a sinus infection he has had since May. The locum also explained that the infection could well have caused the bleeding and has advised that he requests an antibiotic cream to be prescribed for regular long term use on his next visit to the family doctor.
Thursday, 23 October 2008
Hurt Feelings
Well, as my swollen face returns to normal and the itching lessens I feel a little more kindly towards Kaylee. Maybe kindly is still a bit too strong a word. But I do feel a little less poisonous in attitude. The letter remains unprinted and unposted. I wouldn't want to deliberately hurt her feelings. She either suspects that she has upset me or is completely oblivious of how I felt. Either way it was good to express my feelings in a letter. One day I will print it off , tear it to shreds and bin it along with memory of the hurt I felt. I expect I will reply to her texts eventually. Maybe write a short bland letter in a few weeks time. I will just slowly withdraw and become busier and busier with my life here.
I'm counting my blessings; the number of good friends I have in east Devon. It has also reminded me that my best friend is MyMan. He has stirred himself to try and talk it through with me. Urged me to caution and thought before action. Reminded me of how difficult I can be too, at times. But he's sad for me in that the stress I've been under recently made it difficult for me to cope with the situation.
I'm counting my blessings; the number of good friends I have in east Devon. It has also reminded me that my best friend is MyMan. He has stirred himself to try and talk it through with me. Urged me to caution and thought before action. Reminded me of how difficult I can be too, at times. But he's sad for me in that the stress I've been under recently made it difficult for me to cope with the situation.
Saturday, 18 October 2008
Death of a Friendship 2
The previous post of Death of a Friendship was written in the early hours during another sleep disturbed night at home. Unfortunately insomnia gives one too much time to dwell on worries, concerns and hurt feelings. I have been mentally composing a letter to my 'friend' to explain why I no longer wish to keep in contact. I've just written it this morning. I'm not sure whether it will get as far as the post box as I'm still thinking of her feelings. She has sent me a text a couple of times since we parted. But I've not replied.
I'd been looking forward to meeting up with Kay again for a reunion of old colleagues. She had joked about no one turning up and our sitting there together feeling like 'Billy No Mates ...' I thought it a joke. If no one turned up then they either [a] had no interest in seeing either of us again or [b] had more pressing things to do during the weekend. If I was alone for the reunion I would have taken along a good book and settled down in a corner to wait to see who arrived.
I'd arranged our accommodation. I'd gone for the cheap option; B&B via the English Tourist Board as Kay had said she wanted to keep costs down. She wasn't at all keen to "spend £75 on a single room at a hotel as she had so many treats" planned for 2008. I could see on the website that one room looked much larger than the other but I didn't request that room ahead of our arrival - it didn't seem 'fair' to just bag it. On our being shown the rooms she immediately chose the larger of the 2. I did ask her if she had a preference. She turned towards me as if to ask which I preferred and then changed tack swiftly declaring to the owner "I'll take this one". I had expected to have some polite chat about our preferences and if necessary to make the decision with a toss of a coin. I was taken aback; very disappointed and speechless. After the journey up the M5 I was feeling tired, wrung out and travel weary. I get giddy and dizzy after a drive. My brain/mouth co-ordination slows down and I couldn't articulate what I was thinking.
After an evening spent in a local pub over a disappointingly tasteless bar snack we strolled back to the B&B. I had to dose up on painkillers as my back and knees were particularly stiff and painful. I then found out the room was cold, damp and mouldy around the window frames. Kay was lolling on her bed watching TV. She prefers to loll rather than sit in chairs. She wasn't using either of the 2 comfortable chairs in her room. I had one small slipper chair wedged against the bed and the wall. No chance to sit and read in comfort or to fill in my daily diary. I then experienced 2 hours sleep but was awake from 1.15 in a cold damp bedroom with barely room to swing a little mouse. As the night wore on I started to feel resentful.
With only 2 hours sleep it meant the next day passed in a sleep deprived haze. I felt nauseous, increasingly stiff and struggled to keep up with conversation and exploring the area. Kay seemed impervious to how I was feeling. Eventually at 3 p.m we stopped in a hotel for afternoon tea. Kay blithely telling me I had to stay awake till late or I'd have trouble sleeping again.
The hotel was blissfully warm. It was cosy. It was clean. It was welcoming. It had rooms available. I'd talked to reception on a trip to the ladies powder room. There were single rooms from £75/ Or, for myself, a large superior spacious double bedroom at £115 a night. I was all for returning to the B&B Guest House - checking out and moving in to the hotel. But Kay was almost in tears ... she was annoyed that I'd think of moving on ... she was concerned about upsetting the feelings of the B&B owner ... when I explained that at this rate I wouldn't have the energy to get to the reunion she then started to worry about going to the event alone. She told me that I should have booked us into a hotel if I was incapable of accepting smaller more cramped accommodation. She suggested that I stay at the B&B another night when exhaustion should help me sleep better (a fair point, but ..) if I had another bad night I could go to the reunion and then drive home afterwards. Although she agreed with me she would find the journey after the event hard to do she would do the same as she "couldn't remain at that grotty B&B" without me.
It was therefore clear to me she could or would not remain in "that grotty B&B" without me. She would rather upset me than offend the owner of the B&B. I'd expected to do the dirty deed myself of extricating ourselves and if necessary pay a cancellation fee after I'd expressed my disappointment on the state of the room. It was also clear she felt incapable of meeting up with old colleagues without me.
She did kindly tell me that in her opinion, I'd placed "too much importance on this weekend away" as I not had any other holidays. And she thought I should on my return home book into The Woolacombe Bay Hotel for a relaxing break before Christmas. It was at that stage I broke down and shed tears over the tea tray. I realised then it was the Death of our Friendship. I cried for what I thought I'd had and had found out that I hadn't had at all. A good friend.
She has listened but she has not heard. Over the last 6 years I've talked over the difficulties we faced at home. Of how hard I find it to take time out for myself. To get away. She has obviously not understood one word I've said. I have tried to keep up my end with the fun and laughter. But I have so little energy I cannot squander it. This weekend with her felt as if my remaining energy was being sucked from me.
It seemed so very important to her that we did not decamp to the warmth of the hotel. I gave up the idea. I was by that time so distressed the hotel couldn't have cured what ailed me. Regardless of how warm and comforting it was. A drug induced sleep helped me to feel a little better and to get through the next day. But the 3rd night was once again sleepless. That along with an allergic reaction to something in that room saw me driving home as speedily as possible with a rapidly swelling face and an itchy rash.
I'd been looking forward to meeting up with Kay again for a reunion of old colleagues. She had joked about no one turning up and our sitting there together feeling like 'Billy No Mates ...' I thought it a joke. If no one turned up then they either [a] had no interest in seeing either of us again or [b] had more pressing things to do during the weekend. If I was alone for the reunion I would have taken along a good book and settled down in a corner to wait to see who arrived.
I'd arranged our accommodation. I'd gone for the cheap option; B&B via the English Tourist Board as Kay had said she wanted to keep costs down. She wasn't at all keen to "spend £75 on a single room at a hotel as she had so many treats" planned for 2008. I could see on the website that one room looked much larger than the other but I didn't request that room ahead of our arrival - it didn't seem 'fair' to just bag it. On our being shown the rooms she immediately chose the larger of the 2. I did ask her if she had a preference. She turned towards me as if to ask which I preferred and then changed tack swiftly declaring to the owner "I'll take this one". I had expected to have some polite chat about our preferences and if necessary to make the decision with a toss of a coin. I was taken aback; very disappointed and speechless. After the journey up the M5 I was feeling tired, wrung out and travel weary. I get giddy and dizzy after a drive. My brain/mouth co-ordination slows down and I couldn't articulate what I was thinking.
After an evening spent in a local pub over a disappointingly tasteless bar snack we strolled back to the B&B. I had to dose up on painkillers as my back and knees were particularly stiff and painful. I then found out the room was cold, damp and mouldy around the window frames. Kay was lolling on her bed watching TV. She prefers to loll rather than sit in chairs. She wasn't using either of the 2 comfortable chairs in her room. I had one small slipper chair wedged against the bed and the wall. No chance to sit and read in comfort or to fill in my daily diary. I then experienced 2 hours sleep but was awake from 1.15 in a cold damp bedroom with barely room to swing a little mouse. As the night wore on I started to feel resentful.
With only 2 hours sleep it meant the next day passed in a sleep deprived haze. I felt nauseous, increasingly stiff and struggled to keep up with conversation and exploring the area. Kay seemed impervious to how I was feeling. Eventually at 3 p.m we stopped in a hotel for afternoon tea. Kay blithely telling me I had to stay awake till late or I'd have trouble sleeping again.
The hotel was blissfully warm. It was cosy. It was clean. It was welcoming. It had rooms available. I'd talked to reception on a trip to the ladies powder room. There were single rooms from £75/ Or, for myself, a large superior spacious double bedroom at £115 a night. I was all for returning to the B&B Guest House - checking out and moving in to the hotel. But Kay was almost in tears ... she was annoyed that I'd think of moving on ... she was concerned about upsetting the feelings of the B&B owner ... when I explained that at this rate I wouldn't have the energy to get to the reunion she then started to worry about going to the event alone. She told me that I should have booked us into a hotel if I was incapable of accepting smaller more cramped accommodation. She suggested that I stay at the B&B another night when exhaustion should help me sleep better (a fair point, but ..) if I had another bad night I could go to the reunion and then drive home afterwards. Although she agreed with me she would find the journey after the event hard to do she would do the same as she "couldn't remain at that grotty B&B" without me.
It was therefore clear to me she could or would not remain in "that grotty B&B" without me. She would rather upset me than offend the owner of the B&B. I'd expected to do the dirty deed myself of extricating ourselves and if necessary pay a cancellation fee after I'd expressed my disappointment on the state of the room. It was also clear she felt incapable of meeting up with old colleagues without me.
She did kindly tell me that in her opinion, I'd placed "too much importance on this weekend away" as I not had any other holidays. And she thought I should on my return home book into The Woolacombe Bay Hotel for a relaxing break before Christmas. It was at that stage I broke down and shed tears over the tea tray. I realised then it was the Death of our Friendship. I cried for what I thought I'd had and had found out that I hadn't had at all. A good friend.
She has listened but she has not heard. Over the last 6 years I've talked over the difficulties we faced at home. Of how hard I find it to take time out for myself. To get away. She has obviously not understood one word I've said. I have tried to keep up my end with the fun and laughter. But I have so little energy I cannot squander it. This weekend with her felt as if my remaining energy was being sucked from me.
It seemed so very important to her that we did not decamp to the warmth of the hotel. I gave up the idea. I was by that time so distressed the hotel couldn't have cured what ailed me. Regardless of how warm and comforting it was. A drug induced sleep helped me to feel a little better and to get through the next day. But the 3rd night was once again sleepless. That along with an allergic reaction to something in that room saw me driving home as speedily as possible with a rapidly swelling face and an itchy rash.
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
Death of a Friendship
We meet people at different times in our lives. If they are friends for a long time they see the best and the worst in us. We make allowances when a friend upsets us. We give it time to assume less importance and the friendship continues. But sometimes the upset and hurt feelings are so big that one wonders whether the friendship will survive. Whether it is worth the effort.
A good friend remains thoughtful and considerate through thick and thin. Self centred friends are more 'fair weather' companions. I'm just sorting out one from the other.
What has shocked me is that the friend who now works in the caring industry is more 'me, me, me' than any of the others. I'm beginning to see her as a 'fairweather friend'. I think she may see me me as a 'travelling companion' for holidays and short breaks away. Someone who will cheer her when she finds life stressful. We enjoy a laugh and have a similar sense of humour. But it now appears to me she is completely unaware of my feelings and the stress I am under. That MyMan comes first in my life. Or that I have responsibilities. She expects me to 'do what you want to do'.
I am thinking of all she has said over our weekend away. Our 3 day weekend break away has been enlightening. And I think that she is right; in one way. I will think of myself first. I will do what I want to do. So I will not be seeing her again for a long, long while ... if ever again.
A good friend remains thoughtful and considerate through thick and thin. Self centred friends are more 'fair weather' companions. I'm just sorting out one from the other.
What has shocked me is that the friend who now works in the caring industry is more 'me, me, me' than any of the others. I'm beginning to see her as a 'fairweather friend'. I think she may see me me as a 'travelling companion' for holidays and short breaks away. Someone who will cheer her when she finds life stressful. We enjoy a laugh and have a similar sense of humour. But it now appears to me she is completely unaware of my feelings and the stress I am under. That MyMan comes first in my life. Or that I have responsibilities. She expects me to 'do what you want to do'.
I am thinking of all she has said over our weekend away. Our 3 day weekend break away has been enlightening. And I think that she is right; in one way. I will think of myself first. I will do what I want to do. So I will not be seeing her again for a long, long while ... if ever again.
Thursday, 9 October 2008
In the pink ...
I have now been home 3+ weeks. It took me a good 7 days to re adjust. I set about being active and busy. Bridge classes re-started. I was wrong in that MyMan's new bed did not arrive while I was away. It was only delivered this last week.I was therefore able to continue with 'Plan A' - that we swap rooms. MyMan slowly became used to the idea of smaller bedroom with 'that awful pine furniture'
Over the last week we've managed to move everything between the 2 rooms. Each room's had a thorough spring clean. Well, an autumn clean really. I found many biscuit wrappers and chocolate crumbs in MyMans bedroom. No wonder he hasn't lost weight; regardless of my reducing meal portions. There were also signs of a visitation from a mouse. MyMan promised he would no longer say I am being 'over fussy' when I want to pull the bed away from the wall to vacuum under it.
I have now taken up residence in the 'pink room'. I feel rather like Barbara Cartland. The large king size bed looks far better for having space around it. I have been able to dig out all my favourite bed linens and am spoilt for choice as to how to dress my bed. It now looks warm, comfortable and inviting. It might look warm it is in fact the coldest room in the house but I'm happy enough with a pink furry hot bottle to take to bed at night. Now that we have room to turn the mattress it is in truth far more comfortable than it's been for many long months. So I'll be able to economise by not shopping for a new bed a while longer. Twice when I have woken early I have taken a cup of tea back to bed. Unlike recent years when if I've not been asleep I've left the room as speedily as possible.
MyMan now agrees the smaller room has plenty of space for him. He is finding the bed a great comfort and it helps with his quality of sleep. He still doesn't like the furniture so I am looking around for something more to his taste. I think it is the idea of change that upsets him so much. Along with the thought of the upheaval and work.
With the financial world going through so much turmoil the talk of a house move is on the slow back burner for now .. . .
Meanwhile I feel happier now that I have a pleasant retreat as a sanctuary when I feel the need. And next week I have another short break; a weekend away with an old [long standing] friend and colleague in Gloucestershire.
Over the last week we've managed to move everything between the 2 rooms. Each room's had a thorough spring clean. Well, an autumn clean really. I found many biscuit wrappers and chocolate crumbs in MyMans bedroom. No wonder he hasn't lost weight; regardless of my reducing meal portions. There were also signs of a visitation from a mouse. MyMan promised he would no longer say I am being 'over fussy' when I want to pull the bed away from the wall to vacuum under it.
I have now taken up residence in the 'pink room'. I feel rather like Barbara Cartland. The large king size bed looks far better for having space around it. I have been able to dig out all my favourite bed linens and am spoilt for choice as to how to dress my bed. It now looks warm, comfortable and inviting. It might look warm it is in fact the coldest room in the house but I'm happy enough with a pink furry hot bottle to take to bed at night. Now that we have room to turn the mattress it is in truth far more comfortable than it's been for many long months. So I'll be able to economise by not shopping for a new bed a while longer. Twice when I have woken early I have taken a cup of tea back to bed. Unlike recent years when if I've not been asleep I've left the room as speedily as possible.
MyMan now agrees the smaller room has plenty of space for him. He is finding the bed a great comfort and it helps with his quality of sleep. He still doesn't like the furniture so I am looking around for something more to his taste. I think it is the idea of change that upsets him so much. Along with the thought of the upheaval and work.
With the financial world going through so much turmoil the talk of a house move is on the slow back burner for now .. . .
Meanwhile I feel happier now that I have a pleasant retreat as a sanctuary when I feel the need. And next week I have another short break; a weekend away with an old [long standing] friend and colleague in Gloucestershire.
Thursday, 18 September 2008
Singing the Blues
Well, I am 'safe home' once again. We are finding it hard, MyMan and I, to adjust to each others ways once again.
While away visiting family I've been talking and laughing a great deal. I've been listening to music and dancing around. I've been mixing with crowds in Croydon. I've drunk wine. Sat up late into the early hours, talking and listening, listening and talking. Conversation. So many interesting things to do, places to see, people to talk with. MyMan said the 'utter peace ' while I was away was lovely. Not to have the washing machine running. No noise from the vacuum cleaner. No radio unless he chose to listen to it. He talked to only one person in the 10 days I was away. It is so quiet here I can hear the field mice breathing in the loft.
Whenever I rang to check how he was coping he told me how "so very tired" he was having to do all the meals and the day to day chores of bed making, washing up. He found it "exhausting having to do everything" for himself. He was looking forward to my return home.
I am finding it soul destroyingly hard to re-adjust to the quietness. To the depressing outlook on 'life'. I returned home with a windchime. MyMan is not at all happy at the "racket it will make". It is supposed to hang in the north west corner to bring good Feng Shui to our home. To bring us 'Peace and Harmony'. Against his better judgement it is now hanging in the porch. I await the peace and harmony to descend on our household. May it be soon.
While away visiting family I've been talking and laughing a great deal. I've been listening to music and dancing around. I've been mixing with crowds in Croydon. I've drunk wine. Sat up late into the early hours, talking and listening, listening and talking. Conversation. So many interesting things to do, places to see, people to talk with. MyMan said the 'utter peace ' while I was away was lovely. Not to have the washing machine running. No noise from the vacuum cleaner. No radio unless he chose to listen to it. He talked to only one person in the 10 days I was away. It is so quiet here I can hear the field mice breathing in the loft.
Whenever I rang to check how he was coping he told me how "so very tired" he was having to do all the meals and the day to day chores of bed making, washing up. He found it "exhausting having to do everything" for himself. He was looking forward to my return home.
I am finding it soul destroyingly hard to re-adjust to the quietness. To the depressing outlook on 'life'. I returned home with a windchime. MyMan is not at all happy at the "racket it will make". It is supposed to hang in the north west corner to bring good Feng Shui to our home. To bring us 'Peace and Harmony'. Against his better judgement it is now hanging in the porch. I await the peace and harmony to descend on our household. May it be soon.
Friday, 5 September 2008
Abandon Ship
I'm getting ready to abandon ship. I'm jumping overboard. I'm going up to see my sister. I'll also visit a nephew who has recently been told that at the end of his traineeship with one of the top law firm's in London that he has a job. I'm not surprised. I'm proud of him and biased I know. A second younger nephew is safely back from his travels experiencing 'extreme sports' down under in Malaysia and Australasia. I'll be packing a couple of bottles for us to celebrate.
I've also acquired a cinecam and have found out how to operate it. And then how to get the movie on to my laptop. I've also bought a Dongle for web connection while I'm on my travels. I'm taking so many chargers, leads and connections I need a separate suitcase to cope with them all. I'm all set to film and research the area in which I'd like to live. I'm going to try a sales pitch when I return home.
I'm all set to laugh drink and be merry. After a week with my little sister I move on to the south coast to meet up with a nice niece for Sunday lunch and to visit an Aunt on Monday.
I've also acquired a cinecam and have found out how to operate it. And then how to get the movie on to my laptop. I've also bought a Dongle for web connection while I'm on my travels. I'm taking so many chargers, leads and connections I need a separate suitcase to cope with them all. I'm all set to film and research the area in which I'd like to live. I'm going to try a sales pitch when I return home.
I'm all set to laugh drink and be merry. After a week with my little sister I move on to the south coast to meet up with a nice niece for Sunday lunch and to visit an Aunt on Monday.
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Awfully Quiet
I know, as Roserio commented - it has been Awfully Quiet. I've found it rather difficult to find the time and energy to post regularly. I've managed to put something up once a week or so over on my more lighthearted blog . To let regular visitors know I am still alive and 'active' of sorts.
I am trying not to reflect too often on how difficult I find being with MyMan nowadays. How I've been finding it hard to cope. I'm full of aches and pains. Muscular and joint pains which I am sure are caused by tension. I am conscious of wearing my shoulders up near my ears. My fists are clenched tight like a boxer's when I wake in the night. My buttocks are so clenched it is as if they are trying to catch up with my shoulders. I walk as often and as far as I can. But it just makes my aches worse.
I'm still struggling to try and decide which is the best option for us. The best option on deciding where we should move to. I worry that if MyMan does have a form of dementia coming on then the sooner we move and are able to establish a new routine then the better it will be. The more settled he becomes in a routine here, the less likely we will be able to relocate to a completely different area.
The good news is that we have finally sold the old Rover. I was sad to see the old faithful workhorse leave. Sad to see it go but thankful we no longer have to remember to charge the battery then take it out for a short drive once a week to keep it's innards ticking over. This has left room in the garage for us to sort, clear and declutter old gardening tools which we no longer use and a myriad of other once useful items. I must get on and arrange a Garage Sale.
We are still awaiting delivery of MyMan's new adjustable bed. It should arrive in the next 2 or 3 weeks. I am about to go up to visit family and I'm convinced it will be delivered while I am not at home. I have left a written reminder that when the huge heavy 6' bed leaves MyMan must hoover and dust before the new bed is put in place.
I will be going to stay with my sister. To see my nephews and a nice niece. And to take cine film and photos of the area where I would like us to move to next...... I still wish to live closer to family. To put down roots for our old age in the area where we were born. So I am going up to Surrey to do my Cecil B DeMille act. To come home and 'sell' the area to MyMan. I know that I too will miss living in the west country but as MyMan becomes more and more demanding of my time I see less and less of the countryside. My world is shrinking down to the house, garden and the local shops. We could very well live in any town it would make no difference. But there I have family. People I love. Who love me.
I am trying not to reflect too often on how difficult I find being with MyMan nowadays. How I've been finding it hard to cope. I'm full of aches and pains. Muscular and joint pains which I am sure are caused by tension. I am conscious of wearing my shoulders up near my ears. My fists are clenched tight like a boxer's when I wake in the night. My buttocks are so clenched it is as if they are trying to catch up with my shoulders. I walk as often and as far as I can. But it just makes my aches worse.
I'm still struggling to try and decide which is the best option for us. The best option on deciding where we should move to. I worry that if MyMan does have a form of dementia coming on then the sooner we move and are able to establish a new routine then the better it will be. The more settled he becomes in a routine here, the less likely we will be able to relocate to a completely different area.
The good news is that we have finally sold the old Rover. I was sad to see the old faithful workhorse leave. Sad to see it go but thankful we no longer have to remember to charge the battery then take it out for a short drive once a week to keep it's innards ticking over. This has left room in the garage for us to sort, clear and declutter old gardening tools which we no longer use and a myriad of other once useful items. I must get on and arrange a Garage Sale.
We are still awaiting delivery of MyMan's new adjustable bed. It should arrive in the next 2 or 3 weeks. I am about to go up to visit family and I'm convinced it will be delivered while I am not at home. I have left a written reminder that when the huge heavy 6' bed leaves MyMan must hoover and dust before the new bed is put in place.
I will be going to stay with my sister. To see my nephews and a nice niece. And to take cine film and photos of the area where I would like us to move to next...... I still wish to live closer to family. To put down roots for our old age in the area where we were born. So I am going up to Surrey to do my Cecil B DeMille act. To come home and 'sell' the area to MyMan. I know that I too will miss living in the west country but as MyMan becomes more and more demanding of my time I see less and less of the countryside. My world is shrinking down to the house, garden and the local shops. We could very well live in any town it would make no difference. But there I have family. People I love. Who love me.
Wednesday, 20 August 2008
Emotional breakdown . . .
I've had an emotional breakdown. A few days ago we started to discuss all our options on moving house. MyMan's chiropractor has again told him to walk only on level ground. Not to climb hills.
I am still keen to return to Surrey/Sussex area to be closer to family. MyMan cannot imagine being back in the over crowded south east. Where there are stabbings, droughts and traffic jams on an hourly basis. He knows. He reads the newspapers. He watches the TV and sees Sky News 24. He tells me that I wont feel safe there. It doesn't matter that I tell him I have felt no fear when I go on a visit.
He asked why I am so keen on living there. When I said I would like to see family once a week for a few hours at a time rather than once a year for a week he told me it was an emotional reaction. Yes it is. I then became even more emotional and spent 6 days crying at the drop of a hat.
When I wasn't crying we tried to talk about my emotional feelings in a rational way. I explained just how wearying it is having to schedule in arrangements so that I can visit family. How much of a strain it feels choosing the 'right time' to leave him for a week. How tired I am to begin with. How tiring the journey can be. How tiring it is to get around to visit with each member of the family so that none feel slighted or left out. How so many deaths of the older members still haunt me as I'd not had chance to see them when they were ill. How I'd missed out on attending their funerals.
How after a few days of being away, with time to laugh giggle and relax with my sister and friends that after a few days I have then to start thinking of the journey home and returning to 'normal life'. How much harder I find it to cope on my return. That the few days away has just emphasized how much I am missing in my day to day life. That if he died tomorrow I would sell up and relocate.
He suggested that I look at going up there more often. Several times a year as I used to when we lived in Gloucestershire. When I was 10 years younger than now. It wont solve the problem that I'll soon be another 10 years older and will find the journey even harder than now.
I fail to see how it matters to him where he lives. That apart from going out to take a small amount of exercise he never wants to go out. He doesn't want visitors. He doesn't want to socialise. He's reclusive and non communicative. I attempted a rational explanation of how lonely and alone I often felt. I even wonder whether once living near our old home town again he wouldn't want to get out and about.To look at his old haunts. To watch a game at his favourite football club.
And also there is my fear that he may get worse. And then I wouldn't be able to leave him for a week. Never mind several times a year.
I am still keen to return to Surrey/Sussex area to be closer to family. MyMan cannot imagine being back in the over crowded south east. Where there are stabbings, droughts and traffic jams on an hourly basis. He knows. He reads the newspapers. He watches the TV and sees Sky News 24. He tells me that I wont feel safe there. It doesn't matter that I tell him I have felt no fear when I go on a visit.
He asked why I am so keen on living there. When I said I would like to see family once a week for a few hours at a time rather than once a year for a week he told me it was an emotional reaction. Yes it is. I then became even more emotional and spent 6 days crying at the drop of a hat.
When I wasn't crying we tried to talk about my emotional feelings in a rational way. I explained just how wearying it is having to schedule in arrangements so that I can visit family. How much of a strain it feels choosing the 'right time' to leave him for a week. How tired I am to begin with. How tiring the journey can be. How tiring it is to get around to visit with each member of the family so that none feel slighted or left out. How so many deaths of the older members still haunt me as I'd not had chance to see them when they were ill. How I'd missed out on attending their funerals.
How after a few days of being away, with time to laugh giggle and relax with my sister and friends that after a few days I have then to start thinking of the journey home and returning to 'normal life'. How much harder I find it to cope on my return. That the few days away has just emphasized how much I am missing in my day to day life. That if he died tomorrow I would sell up and relocate.
He suggested that I look at going up there more often. Several times a year as I used to when we lived in Gloucestershire. When I was 10 years younger than now. It wont solve the problem that I'll soon be another 10 years older and will find the journey even harder than now.
I fail to see how it matters to him where he lives. That apart from going out to take a small amount of exercise he never wants to go out. He doesn't want visitors. He doesn't want to socialise. He's reclusive and non communicative. I attempted a rational explanation of how lonely and alone I often felt. I even wonder whether once living near our old home town again he wouldn't want to get out and about.To look at his old haunts. To watch a game at his favourite football club.
And also there is my fear that he may get worse. And then I wouldn't be able to leave him for a week. Never mind several times a year.
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Losing it ....
I fear for MyMan's mind. I fear he is losing it. He wanted his lightweight dressing gown on a hot morning a few days ago. I told him it was on the back of his bedroom door. He said it wasn't there. I told him to look again as I knew it was. When he returned and said it wasn't there I went up to point it out to him. It was on the 'wrong hook'. And he didn't recognise the gown as his own...
Another alarming incident of forgetfulness. My heart sinks further.
Another alarming incident of forgetfulness. My heart sinks further.
Saturday, 19 July 2008
Parallel Worlds
It is very strange but 2 days later MyMan started talking as if it is settled that he is going to change rooms when his new bed arrives. He said 'it does make sense' for the single bed to go in the smaller room. He was more like my OldMan. The Man I love and married 37 years ago.. reasonable and open to discussion and negotiation. We didn't always agree but we could talk through our differences and come to some agreement. Nowadays it's like living with Jekyll and Hyde. I just never know which one I am going to find each morning or which one I am talking to at any time.
We used to be so close he would always say he could read me like a book. He believed in ESP as I would start talking about something that was just in his thoughts.
Maybe as I typed up my last post he subliminally absorbed my thoughts while taking his afterno0n rest. Perhaps he decided the change of rooms was the cheaper option. Or it is that my OldMan is still lurking there behind this crabby, cantankerous old devil I find myself married to now.
We might make it to our 38th wedding anniversary after all ..
We used to be so close he would always say he could read me like a book. He believed in ESP as I would start talking about something that was just in his thoughts.
Maybe as I typed up my last post he subliminally absorbed my thoughts while taking his afterno0n rest. Perhaps he decided the change of rooms was the cheaper option. Or it is that my OldMan is still lurking there behind this crabby, cantankerous old devil I find myself married to now.
We might make it to our 38th wedding anniversary after all ..
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
The Last Straw
I'm inclined towards feeling upset this afternoon. It feels like the last straw. As the counsellor asked me last year "Who is Penny? and where is Penny in all this? and "what about Penny?.."
Despite having the whole house - apart from my bedroom- made comfortable and convenient in accordance with the difficulties MyMan experiences I've just found out that when he acquires a new single adjustable bed he is not keen to move into the smaller of the 2 bedrooms. He likes space around him. So if he continues in the main bedroom he'll have a single bed in a space between 2 bedside cabinets that were fitted for a large 6' double bed. Even when it may need the electrics changed to take the electrically operated adjustable bed.
Two years ago we had the main bedroom fitted out. I spent ages working on the plans and designing the maximum storage I could squeeze into the space. I chose the wallpaper, carpet, curtains and the new bedding all so that it co-ordinated. I love colour and style. It's important to me.
At the same time the builders were in MyMan chose the decor for what is now the second bedroom. The room has been my bedroom for 2 years. He likes 'colour' and didn't want the pinks or rusts I favour. So he chose straw wallpaper with a yellowish brown carpet. I've found it so difficult to choose suitable curtains I've given up. Along with pine furniture it is a room to go to bed in, with the lights out, and go to sleep as quickly as possible. It is dreary.
When the builders left MyMan and all our friends admired my selection. He said the colours were 'restful and soothing'. I know. I took pride in it. I loved it. MyMan then took up residence in the main bedroom, alone. I was envious. I would clean and tidy the room dress the bed, admire it and leave. My bedroom by contrast I would dust and hoover but gained no pleasure. The wallpaper is dull, the carpet not a colour I like and the bedding is a mismatch of old favourites acquired over numerous years which can barely lift the gloom of what is to me a male decorated room.
He said he would keep his 'lovely bedroom' vacuumed and dusted. He does so after a fashion. But only after I've nagged about the dustballs scurrying along the headboard shelf and cabinet surfaces. As soon as he sees me head there with a duster he comes in "I was just about to do that" he says. His bed chosen for his needs, to lever himself up and out, has no give at all. Rock hard and far to uncomfortable, I had to abandon it several years ago. After 4 years of separate bedrooms we are no longer sure we can share a room at night. I still love the bedroom I designed but it gives me no pleasure now. The shelves I envisaged as holding a few tasteful glass, ceramics and a posy of flowers are crammed full of overflowing stuff from his study (which is in what I consider the best room in the house) and from his 'work area' which is in the main reception hall. We share the lounge which is full of chairs chosen to suit his back. Rather than for their cosy aesthetic appearance.
Now that we are about to make a decision on his adjustable bed I suggested that this could be a good time for us to swap bedrooms. The single bed would fit very easily into the second bedroom. He said that he didn't want me to 'suffer another upheaval'. I said I didn't mind. Then he told me he liked space around him. I asked what space around him did he need at night? To which his stock answer came that he liked "space as I'm trapped here". I pointed out the second bedroom will have space a plenty when the single bed is in space taken up by a 5' double bed. But when he said that he didn't want the second bedroom "with all that old furniture" I knew exactly where I stand.
Now that I know where I stand I am going to have the second bedroom, my bedroom, redecorated and with fitted furniture. It will cost. He said and we had agreed that it was pointless spending any more money on this place when we have every intention of moving soon. But how soon is soon? In our discussion just now he talked of us being here another 5 years. I am not going to wait 5 years for a bedroom that will give me some pleasure to walk into.
Yet another project to sort when I already feel stressed and tired. But I am not going to let the grass grow under my feet. 'Where is Penny's space?' So far the arrangement in this house feel very one sided. I'm beginning to feel like a carer and a housekeeper. I intend to redress the balance. It's either divorce and 2 separate homes or its time to claim my space here ... I'm not just upset I am angry and hurt.
Despite having the whole house - apart from my bedroom- made comfortable and convenient in accordance with the difficulties MyMan experiences I've just found out that when he acquires a new single adjustable bed he is not keen to move into the smaller of the 2 bedrooms. He likes space around him. So if he continues in the main bedroom he'll have a single bed in a space between 2 bedside cabinets that were fitted for a large 6' double bed. Even when it may need the electrics changed to take the electrically operated adjustable bed.
Two years ago we had the main bedroom fitted out. I spent ages working on the plans and designing the maximum storage I could squeeze into the space. I chose the wallpaper, carpet, curtains and the new bedding all so that it co-ordinated. I love colour and style. It's important to me.
At the same time the builders were in MyMan chose the decor for what is now the second bedroom. The room has been my bedroom for 2 years. He likes 'colour' and didn't want the pinks or rusts I favour. So he chose straw wallpaper with a yellowish brown carpet. I've found it so difficult to choose suitable curtains I've given up. Along with pine furniture it is a room to go to bed in, with the lights out, and go to sleep as quickly as possible. It is dreary.
When the builders left MyMan and all our friends admired my selection. He said the colours were 'restful and soothing'. I know. I took pride in it. I loved it. MyMan then took up residence in the main bedroom, alone. I was envious. I would clean and tidy the room dress the bed, admire it and leave. My bedroom by contrast I would dust and hoover but gained no pleasure. The wallpaper is dull, the carpet not a colour I like and the bedding is a mismatch of old favourites acquired over numerous years which can barely lift the gloom of what is to me a male decorated room.
He said he would keep his 'lovely bedroom' vacuumed and dusted. He does so after a fashion. But only after I've nagged about the dustballs scurrying along the headboard shelf and cabinet surfaces. As soon as he sees me head there with a duster he comes in "I was just about to do that" he says. His bed chosen for his needs, to lever himself up and out, has no give at all. Rock hard and far to uncomfortable, I had to abandon it several years ago. After 4 years of separate bedrooms we are no longer sure we can share a room at night. I still love the bedroom I designed but it gives me no pleasure now. The shelves I envisaged as holding a few tasteful glass, ceramics and a posy of flowers are crammed full of overflowing stuff from his study (which is in what I consider the best room in the house) and from his 'work area' which is in the main reception hall. We share the lounge which is full of chairs chosen to suit his back. Rather than for their cosy aesthetic appearance.
Now that we are about to make a decision on his adjustable bed I suggested that this could be a good time for us to swap bedrooms. The single bed would fit very easily into the second bedroom. He said that he didn't want me to 'suffer another upheaval'. I said I didn't mind. Then he told me he liked space around him. I asked what space around him did he need at night? To which his stock answer came that he liked "space as I'm trapped here". I pointed out the second bedroom will have space a plenty when the single bed is in space taken up by a 5' double bed. But when he said that he didn't want the second bedroom "with all that old furniture" I knew exactly where I stand.
Now that I know where I stand I am going to have the second bedroom, my bedroom, redecorated and with fitted furniture. It will cost. He said and we had agreed that it was pointless spending any more money on this place when we have every intention of moving soon. But how soon is soon? In our discussion just now he talked of us being here another 5 years. I am not going to wait 5 years for a bedroom that will give me some pleasure to walk into.
Yet another project to sort when I already feel stressed and tired. But I am not going to let the grass grow under my feet. 'Where is Penny's space?' So far the arrangement in this house feel very one sided. I'm beginning to feel like a carer and a housekeeper. I intend to redress the balance. It's either divorce and 2 separate homes or its time to claim my space here ... I'm not just upset I am angry and hurt.
Sunday, 13 July 2008
Crabby Old Girl
I was so looking forward to having coffee with our friends today at the Garden Centre. I'd not seen them for a week or more as they have all been on holiday. I was looking forward to a good chat with them. MyMan said he would come too... fine by me. Well it was fine with me until I realised he didn't feel at all well this morning. Even when he's having a 'better day' he says he hates the coffee shop culture and the small talk. Not feeling 'at all well' makes him more irritable and even less tolerant than normal. He insisted on coming along.
But due to the pain and not feeling 'at all well' we had to leave early. I became irritated. I felt he had spoilt my social event. Once we reached home he was restless and even more irritable. As for me I'm now feeling really crabby; it's catching. He can't settle to anything. Not the Sunday papers, the golf on TV or the cricket on the radio. Every time I immerse myself in a book or blogging he wants to tell me that he's bored ....I list the long list of little jobs he's promised to do 'one day 'but he doesn't 'feel at all well' .......
I'm beginning to think I might make him a double egg and chip butty for tea....that would probably cheer him up. Perhaps I can kill him with kindness ... death by cholesterol ....
But due to the pain and not feeling 'at all well' we had to leave early. I became irritated. I felt he had spoilt my social event. Once we reached home he was restless and even more irritable. As for me I'm now feeling really crabby; it's catching. He can't settle to anything. Not the Sunday papers, the golf on TV or the cricket on the radio. Every time I immerse myself in a book or blogging he wants to tell me that he's bored ....I list the long list of little jobs he's promised to do 'one day 'but he doesn't 'feel at all well' .......
I'm beginning to think I might make him a double egg and chip butty for tea....that would probably cheer him up. Perhaps I can kill him with kindness ... death by cholesterol ....
Friday, 4 July 2008
Faulty Towers
My Man is a perfectionist. He is a fault finder. The windows haven't been cleaned since we lost our window cleaner 9 months ago. MyMan wasn't impressed with the cost for a less than perfect result when our window cleaner went on to a non-ladder mode of washing them with ionised water. MyMan was going to do them himself. Every month he was going to do them soon. I became tired of peering through the salt laden smears. To admire the garden or watch the birds feed in the morning was an ever increasing blur.
My Man was invited out for afternoon tea with a fellow stamp collector. I rarely have time alone and often like a short space of solitude to sit quietly and reflect. But this was an unexpected bonus. I used the time to quickly wash the windows. Well the ones for the main living rooms. The ones I can reach without a step ladder. I was very pleased with the result. Bright and cheery. The result has certainly raised my spirits.
MyMan pointed out the smears. I'm not bothered - the smears can only be seen when the sun shines. When the sun shines I am out doors, gardening. Early morning and late afternoon the windows look gleaming. But the smears continued to annoy him. Today I took a chamois leather to the windows to try and remove the smears. I think it is better. But I was told I had probably made the leather dirty now. TOUGH.
My Man was invited out for afternoon tea with a fellow stamp collector. I rarely have time alone and often like a short space of solitude to sit quietly and reflect. But this was an unexpected bonus. I used the time to quickly wash the windows. Well the ones for the main living rooms. The ones I can reach without a step ladder. I was very pleased with the result. Bright and cheery. The result has certainly raised my spirits.
MyMan pointed out the smears. I'm not bothered - the smears can only be seen when the sun shines. When the sun shines I am out doors, gardening. Early morning and late afternoon the windows look gleaming. But the smears continued to annoy him. Today I took a chamois leather to the windows to try and remove the smears. I think it is better. But I was told I had probably made the leather dirty now. TOUGH.
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
Plants Glorious Plants
A few weeks ago I wrote how MyMan wanted to have some patio roses in pots that he would' take care of'. He chose 3 which he potted up. He does look after them. But I have to remind him when they need watering, deadheading and turning so that they don't grow leaning towards the sun. Considering we have a largish garden I have increased the number of pots and container plants this year. I now have 4 hostas, 2 tea tree bushes, 5 large cactii, 3 small pots of impatiens along with numerous containers of pelargoniums. Last year's containers of pelargoniums continue to flourish so they have earned their place on the patio for a third year. In all I have over 25 containers to monitor. I must be mad.
The hardy geraniums [cranesbills] are really earning their keep this year. I've divided and increased them to fill in numerous gaps between shrubs or as ground cover in the borders. I do not know what their names as most of them have been pinched [cuttings pulled] from friends or neighbours gardens.
Sunday, 29 June 2008
More Moving Tales
Co - codamol as pain relief no longer appears to help MyMan. The last time he saw the pain management consultant he was offered Morphine which he declined. As he has spent the last few weeks in constant pain he has been saving Co-codamol for a rare treat. It was obviously a disappointment for him when it no longer had the much desired effect.
I mooted the suggestion that he consider asking the family Doctor for a new referral to Wonford Hospital Pain Management Clinic for a re-assessment. Especially now he has X-Rays to show what is happening to his spine and the evidence of an untreated whiplash injury. He said he was reluctant to do so, that he didn't think he could stand the journey to the hospital. But when I tartly replied that maybe we should think of buying a new house opposite the hospital, he said maybe that 'wouldn't be such a bad idea'. He 'can see it does makes sense'.
It's the first time he has considered a possible move to a city or town. To be closer to the facilities he needs more and more often, along with the transport links, it seems sensible to me. I know that we would miss the country life style but it causes so many day to day problems. I'm not sure we shouldn't bite the bullet and make another large re-adjustment. While we are still young enough to adapt.
I mooted the suggestion that he consider asking the family Doctor for a new referral to Wonford Hospital Pain Management Clinic for a re-assessment. Especially now he has X-Rays to show what is happening to his spine and the evidence of an untreated whiplash injury. He said he was reluctant to do so, that he didn't think he could stand the journey to the hospital. But when I tartly replied that maybe we should think of buying a new house opposite the hospital, he said maybe that 'wouldn't be such a bad idea'. He 'can see it does makes sense'.
It's the first time he has considered a possible move to a city or town. To be closer to the facilities he needs more and more often, along with the transport links, it seems sensible to me. I know that we would miss the country life style but it causes so many day to day problems. I'm not sure we shouldn't bite the bullet and make another large re-adjustment. While we are still young enough to adapt.
Thursday, 26 June 2008
A Time for Decisions
We have decided to take some time to try and make a few decisions. In no particular order we need to make decisions on:
[1] a new car
[2] whether we move or not [? adapt our present house]
[3] where we should live in our older age
[4] choose an automatic bed
First we are attempting to find a suitable car. We are now officially a one car household. But we need to change that one car, the reliable fun Honda Jazz, for something with a bit more luxury and a more comfortable ride.
As a passenger in the Jazz MyMan yelps when I hit a pot hole or a loose bit of tarmac. East Devon roads are full of pot holes and gravelly tarmac. Not to mention the deep gullies and drains which allow copious amounts of rainfall to clear quickly. I have to admit the Jazz ride is very firm. And it is now almost 5 years old. Probably not as springy as it was as a spring chicken.
It's the first time for 30 years that we have had to find a car we both like. It's very time consuming exploring all the options. Some cars as soon as we sit in the seats we look at each other and are out and it's crossed off the list. Some need a little longer before the inevitable back ache [mine] starts to manifest itself and then another one bites the dust.
It has surprised me how many cars you need to be able to flex your neck as you climb aboard. Being one of the S*d's Laws they are invariably the cars that are more comfortable to sit in. Being in constant pain MyMan is looking for a feeling of safety and security. He's hoping that a better ride quality will, at best, not inflict more pain during a journey. This is the best he can hope for. He is just about able to flex his neck to get in/out of cars but we assume this will change in the near future. Therefore we need a car that he can sit in without having to lower his head. There have been a few. Big expensive cars. Some not environmentally friendly. Thirsty fuel guzzlers.
As usual I am trying to be economical. For the first time in all our married life every time I mention the costs involved I'm told 'forget the money, do you like it or not?'. Well, if I'm to forget the money then there are cars we've not even mentioned yet. How about Volvo, BMW, Lexus, Mercedes ... then I'm told 'don't be daft woman, don't get carried away ... ' Oh, for a while there I thought MyMan had undegone a complete personality change . . . . .
The best we have found, so far, that doesn't harm the environment, that will do ' x miles to the gallon rather than x gallons to the mile' is the Honda CRV. The only trouble is it is a bit too tall and he finds it hard to get in without standing slightly on tippy toe. I may take along a step stool to see if that would help.
[1] a new car
[2] whether we move or not [? adapt our present house]
[3] where we should live in our older age
[4] choose an automatic bed
First we are attempting to find a suitable car. We are now officially a one car household. But we need to change that one car, the reliable fun Honda Jazz, for something with a bit more luxury and a more comfortable ride.
As a passenger in the Jazz MyMan yelps when I hit a pot hole or a loose bit of tarmac. East Devon roads are full of pot holes and gravelly tarmac. Not to mention the deep gullies and drains which allow copious amounts of rainfall to clear quickly. I have to admit the Jazz ride is very firm. And it is now almost 5 years old. Probably not as springy as it was as a spring chicken.
It's the first time for 30 years that we have had to find a car we both like. It's very time consuming exploring all the options. Some cars as soon as we sit in the seats we look at each other and are out and it's crossed off the list. Some need a little longer before the inevitable back ache [mine] starts to manifest itself and then another one bites the dust.
It has surprised me how many cars you need to be able to flex your neck as you climb aboard. Being one of the S*d's Laws they are invariably the cars that are more comfortable to sit in. Being in constant pain MyMan is looking for a feeling of safety and security. He's hoping that a better ride quality will, at best, not inflict more pain during a journey. This is the best he can hope for. He is just about able to flex his neck to get in/out of cars but we assume this will change in the near future. Therefore we need a car that he can sit in without having to lower his head. There have been a few. Big expensive cars. Some not environmentally friendly. Thirsty fuel guzzlers.
As usual I am trying to be economical. For the first time in all our married life every time I mention the costs involved I'm told 'forget the money, do you like it or not?'. Well, if I'm to forget the money then there are cars we've not even mentioned yet. How about Volvo, BMW, Lexus, Mercedes ... then I'm told 'don't be daft woman, don't get carried away ... ' Oh, for a while there I thought MyMan had undegone a complete personality change . . . . .
The best we have found, so far, that doesn't harm the environment, that will do ' x miles to the gallon rather than x gallons to the mile' is the Honda CRV. The only trouble is it is a bit too tall and he finds it hard to get in without standing slightly on tippy toe. I may take along a step stool to see if that would help.
Thursday, 22 May 2008
Adjusting Matters
The Chiropractor told MyMan that she thinks he should look at buying an orthopaedic bed. I thought she meant firm. His bed is already hard as a board. It gives me back ache when I just lie on it for 10 minutes to chat to him before I go off to my little nest. He said she did say it 'could be that it is too firm'. He wanted a firm bed as he finds it very difficult to sit up or turn over in bed. He needs something to firm to lever on.
Ms Chiropractor told him he should look at an adjustable bed that will sit him up, raise his legs when needed and do everything but turn him out of bed. An adjustable bed. We had a peek in the Bed Centre in Honiton yesterday. It looks as if we'd need a mortgage to buy one. He was too stiff to try out adjustable beds - an ideal time to 'try before you buy', I would have thought. I didn't press it. Westpoint has a Disability Exhibition on at the beginning of June - I think that could be a good place to start looking.
I suggested an automatic adjustable bed last year but he refused - 'it's not necessary'. This is yet another example of his dismissing my suggestions. But as soon as one of his professional carers suggest it may be a good idea then he is keen to get on and do it.
Ms Chiropractor told him he should look at an adjustable bed that will sit him up, raise his legs when needed and do everything but turn him out of bed. An adjustable bed. We had a peek in the Bed Centre in Honiton yesterday. It looks as if we'd need a mortgage to buy one. He was too stiff to try out adjustable beds - an ideal time to 'try before you buy', I would have thought. I didn't press it. Westpoint has a Disability Exhibition on at the beginning of June - I think that could be a good place to start looking.
I suggested an automatic adjustable bed last year but he refused - 'it's not necessary'. This is yet another example of his dismissing my suggestions. But as soon as one of his professional carers suggest it may be a good idea then he is keen to get on and do it.
Wednesday, 21 May 2008
Thorny Issues
I've generally become used to a lower standard of living over the last 7 years. Financially, socially and domestically. Financially we had to curtail our spending once we realised that aMyMan's 'temporary period' of sick leave was stretching ahead with no end in sight. When self employed 'Sick Leave' isn't taken lightly. It can lead to an impression of unreliability. A self employed consultant is only as good as his reputation for delivering as per contract. MyMan took short term sick leave hoping that his health problems would improve with a period of rest. Once we realised it wouldn't we had to revise our plans and start living off hard earned capital. The Savings hoarded for our retirement. A small level of income from Incapacity Benefit along with the Mobility component of Disability Living Allowance [DLA] helped to pay for the essential extras such as his regular massage and chiropractic treatments.
Money was enough to pay for domestic essentials, the necessities of life. Clothes were serviceable rather than fashionable. Unable to take a holiday or meals out due to his disability meant we didn't miss not having the money to enjoy such luxuries. All manner of other economies were practiced for 7 years. Unable to work myself due to caring for MyMan any spare cash I had paid for voluntary NI contributions towards my state pension.
I knew from my previous professional experience in Social Services that MyMan should ask for a re-assessment of his DLA benefit. But he was reluctant. As he is not in a wheelchair he doesn't consider himself disabled. Disabled people in wheelchairs are able to do far more than he does and have a better quality of life. But there was no persuading him even when I told him it would help my finances if I was recognised by DWP as his carer. In the end with my savings whittling away I applied to my employer for a pension forecast and asked if it would be possible to be considered for early retirment on compassionate grounds. I was lucky, this was agreed about a year ago. I am so grateful as the regular small income removed some financial pressure.
Then last year MyMan's Community Psychiatric Nurse [CPN] asked him why didn't he receive the higher rate of DLA on Personal Care along with the Mobility component. At last MyMan agreed to apply for a re-assessment. The CPN and I completed the form on his behalf. A mammoth task in itself. Several weeks later the DWP advised us that on consideration an increase of benefit was turned down.
MyMan doesn't have the energy for day to day living. Anything else is far too much effort. He would have accepted the decision. But I felt that to have done so was to give in too easily. I wrote to ask for the reasons for their decision. I thought we should appeal against the decision. It was another chore I didn't need. Another stressor to contend with. MyMan said he had no intention of going to appeal - it would be something he just couldn't cope with. He was too tired and couldn't go through 'yet another medical examination'. He is fed up with hospitals and tests etc. I thought we should go through the appeal process , if he had to undergo another medical we could request that it be conducted at home to save him travelling. In the event we didn't need to; a letter arrived a few weeks later. After gathering evidence from his doctors, his chiropractor and CPN, he has been granted the maximum level of DLA.
A morning out of my week to take bridge lessons reduced the amount of time available for chores, something else had to give way. This year it has been the gardening. I am relying on the weekly 2 hours paid gardening help to just keep the garden ticking over. Plans for changes or new plantings have been postponed for another year.
When friends visit I know they probably wonder what I do with my time. I am still protective of MyMan's feelings so I don't explain. He needs so much in the way of prompting ' take pills, eat, shower, shave' etc. I don't think they realise that all he does each week is to clear the recycling and rubbish out ready for collection. Over the year he takes care of financial decisions on savings, investments and filling out tax returns. He struggles to manage these jobs but if he stops then what else will he have to boost his self esteem. I have to help by form filling or writing letters on his behalf. As his energy or pain levels are so variable I have to be ready to help at the drop of a hat when he wants to write a letter. When he does feel energetic he wants to get on with a task straight away as he never knows when he'll have another brief burst of energy.
Getting out of the house for exercise is confined to his 15 minute walk to buy a daily paper 4 days out of 7. The short walk home up the steep hill drains him. I save one day a week when I try take him out in the car. We can manage 2 hours out on a good day. So I look for a 15 minute journey - an hour there, a coffee break and a 15 minute trip home again. He usually needs to take a good rest on the bed to recover from such an outing. It doesn't always work to plan. I sometimes have to juggle plans. When he's not well enough to go we postpone to another day. If he doesn't get out in the car at least once a week then I worry that he'll become a homely version of institutionalised and agoraphobic.
Today we went to Homebase at Honiton to buy some plastic patio plant pots. We have 3 roses which need planting into patio pots. MyMan loves roses and said he wanted more. 'I'll take care of them' he said. Just as he said over the last 2 roses which he loves but hasn't weeded or pruned in the 5 years we've had them. But he is so rarely enthusiastic that I couldn't bear to demand a promise that he would take care of them. I'm hoping that he'll pot them on while I vacuum through tomorrow or when I'm at Bridge lesson next week.
What I haven't yet decided is - if he is too tired or feels too ill to deal with them do I get on and plant them on [I hate handling rose bushes - ouch!] or do I let them die and wither through neglect. I'm not sure which of these outomes will distress him the most.
Money was enough to pay for domestic essentials, the necessities of life. Clothes were serviceable rather than fashionable. Unable to take a holiday or meals out due to his disability meant we didn't miss not having the money to enjoy such luxuries. All manner of other economies were practiced for 7 years. Unable to work myself due to caring for MyMan any spare cash I had paid for voluntary NI contributions towards my state pension.
I knew from my previous professional experience in Social Services that MyMan should ask for a re-assessment of his DLA benefit. But he was reluctant. As he is not in a wheelchair he doesn't consider himself disabled. Disabled people in wheelchairs are able to do far more than he does and have a better quality of life. But there was no persuading him even when I told him it would help my finances if I was recognised by DWP as his carer. In the end with my savings whittling away I applied to my employer for a pension forecast and asked if it would be possible to be considered for early retirment on compassionate grounds. I was lucky, this was agreed about a year ago. I am so grateful as the regular small income removed some financial pressure.
Then last year MyMan's Community Psychiatric Nurse [CPN] asked him why didn't he receive the higher rate of DLA on Personal Care along with the Mobility component. At last MyMan agreed to apply for a re-assessment. The CPN and I completed the form on his behalf. A mammoth task in itself. Several weeks later the DWP advised us that on consideration an increase of benefit was turned down.
MyMan doesn't have the energy for day to day living. Anything else is far too much effort. He would have accepted the decision. But I felt that to have done so was to give in too easily. I wrote to ask for the reasons for their decision. I thought we should appeal against the decision. It was another chore I didn't need. Another stressor to contend with. MyMan said he had no intention of going to appeal - it would be something he just couldn't cope with. He was too tired and couldn't go through 'yet another medical examination'. He is fed up with hospitals and tests etc. I thought we should go through the appeal process , if he had to undergo another medical we could request that it be conducted at home to save him travelling. In the event we didn't need to; a letter arrived a few weeks later. After gathering evidence from his doctors, his chiropractor and CPN, he has been granted the maximum level of DLA.
I then applied for Carer's Allowance which went through very quickly. This extra amount of cash has relieved yet more of the worry about our finances. But by this time next year I won't be receiving it as I'll be entitled to claim my State pension. I'm not sure whether one is still paid a Carer's Allowance if decide to opt for a deferred payment of the State Pension. I'll have to seek advice.
I understand how MyMan feels about being labelled 'disabled' [although I prefer to think of it as 'less able'] I also have a problem thinking of myself as a 'Carer'. But that is what I am now - more than just a wife. The caring aspect is very demanding and emotionally draining, taking up much of my time. I no longer have time or energy to spend on the things I used to do. Domestically Standards have slipped. Little jobs that need doing around the house get left. It depresses me as my values are now lower. Caring is energy sapping beyond belief. When I have some time to myself I have to weigh up which is my highest need at that time. Sometimes it is to generally to clear de clutter out of the way, often to potter in the garden, many times to go out and seek some social interaction, light releif, and lately to study what I am learning at my weekly Bridge lessons.A morning out of my week to take bridge lessons reduced the amount of time available for chores, something else had to give way. This year it has been the gardening. I am relying on the weekly 2 hours paid gardening help to just keep the garden ticking over. Plans for changes or new plantings have been postponed for another year.
When friends visit I know they probably wonder what I do with my time. I am still protective of MyMan's feelings so I don't explain. He needs so much in the way of prompting ' take pills, eat, shower, shave' etc. I don't think they realise that all he does each week is to clear the recycling and rubbish out ready for collection. Over the year he takes care of financial decisions on savings, investments and filling out tax returns. He struggles to manage these jobs but if he stops then what else will he have to boost his self esteem. I have to help by form filling or writing letters on his behalf. As his energy or pain levels are so variable I have to be ready to help at the drop of a hat when he wants to write a letter. When he does feel energetic he wants to get on with a task straight away as he never knows when he'll have another brief burst of energy.
Getting out of the house for exercise is confined to his 15 minute walk to buy a daily paper 4 days out of 7. The short walk home up the steep hill drains him. I save one day a week when I try take him out in the car. We can manage 2 hours out on a good day. So I look for a 15 minute journey - an hour there, a coffee break and a 15 minute trip home again. He usually needs to take a good rest on the bed to recover from such an outing. It doesn't always work to plan. I sometimes have to juggle plans. When he's not well enough to go we postpone to another day. If he doesn't get out in the car at least once a week then I worry that he'll become a homely version of institutionalised and agoraphobic.
Today we went to Homebase at Honiton to buy some plastic patio plant pots. We have 3 roses which need planting into patio pots. MyMan loves roses and said he wanted more. 'I'll take care of them' he said. Just as he said over the last 2 roses which he loves but hasn't weeded or pruned in the 5 years we've had them. But he is so rarely enthusiastic that I couldn't bear to demand a promise that he would take care of them. I'm hoping that he'll pot them on while I vacuum through tomorrow or when I'm at Bridge lesson next week.
What I haven't yet decided is - if he is too tired or feels too ill to deal with them do I get on and plant them on [I hate handling rose bushes - ouch!] or do I let them die and wither through neglect. I'm not sure which of these outomes will distress him the most.
Sunday, 11 May 2008
Not Quite to Plan ...
April and May aren't running to the plans I had made. I see that a few posts ago I was promising myself the idea of a quiet relaxing break away at the Woolacombe Bay Hotel. The weeks are galloping by. I'm reminded of John Mortimore's being told by playwright Christopher Fry that the older you get 'breakfast seems to happen every 5 minutes'.
MyMan has been poorly, irritable with life, events and me. I haven't been able to devote much attention to his emotional health needs. I have felt a bit stretched. Over the last few weeks a member of MyMan's family, in Surrey, and also local friends have had health problems. In fact at the moment I don't think I know anyone who is healthy and problem free.
Along with their inevitable hospital appointments/visits for tests, examinations, biopsies, prognsois and plans for treatments and minor surgery; all have entail long phone calls of [what I hope are] empathic support. Or hours taken up assisting with car trips from base to hospital and hospital to base; help with shopping expeditions while they are unable to drive while recovering from surgery. I haven't been doing this alone. Friends have set up an informal rota to assist where and when needed. But along with bridge lessons and the need to try and practice what I learn each week I have been rather stretched and thus unable to post a blog regularly.
The housework has taken on an even lower priority. Dust so thick I would need to shovel it out if anyone came to visit.
Which is why I can't for the life of me understand why I invited friends to join us for lunch today! It seemed a good idea on Friday when I put out the invite. This then involved yet another trip to Waitrose on my way home. I planned a traditional roast as I thought the forecast for Sunday was 'chilly and wet'. How wrong can the Met Office be? Or did I not listen properly. Maybe it was last weekend's forecast I had in mind! As I said, time flies by. Whatever, I've laboured over a roast on the hottest day of the summer, so far.
I still felt very stiff yesterday. I couldn't do all I wanted to as I was moving more slowly than usual. My time was spent outdoors sorting out pot plants, new plant acquisitions and containers. I didn't shovel dust anywhere. I had to scoot around a bit this morning. Everywhere received a lick and a promise. With the French doors and windows flung wide open to catch the cooling breezes, there is every possibility my friends thought the dust had just blown in over the last few hours.
Now being a glutton for punishment I have invited another couple over for supper on Friday. This time I will clean and tidy properly on Thursday. I will remove the bags of compost and empty plant containers from the patio chairs and table so that we are able to drink our aperitif outdoors. I will prepare a simple onepot dish and have salad. In which case it will probably be chilly and wet. I will inform the Met Office so they can put out an accurate forecast.
MyMan has been poorly, irritable with life, events and me. I haven't been able to devote much attention to his emotional health needs. I have felt a bit stretched. Over the last few weeks a member of MyMan's family, in Surrey, and also local friends have had health problems. In fact at the moment I don't think I know anyone who is healthy and problem free.
Along with their inevitable hospital appointments/visits for tests, examinations, biopsies, prognsois and plans for treatments and minor surgery; all have entail long phone calls of [what I hope are] empathic support. Or hours taken up assisting with car trips from base to hospital and hospital to base; help with shopping expeditions while they are unable to drive while recovering from surgery. I haven't been doing this alone. Friends have set up an informal rota to assist where and when needed. But along with bridge lessons and the need to try and practice what I learn each week I have been rather stretched and thus unable to post a blog regularly.
The housework has taken on an even lower priority. Dust so thick I would need to shovel it out if anyone came to visit.
Which is why I can't for the life of me understand why I invited friends to join us for lunch today! It seemed a good idea on Friday when I put out the invite. This then involved yet another trip to Waitrose on my way home. I planned a traditional roast as I thought the forecast for Sunday was 'chilly and wet'. How wrong can the Met Office be? Or did I not listen properly. Maybe it was last weekend's forecast I had in mind! As I said, time flies by. Whatever, I've laboured over a roast on the hottest day of the summer, so far.
I still felt very stiff yesterday. I couldn't do all I wanted to as I was moving more slowly than usual. My time was spent outdoors sorting out pot plants, new plant acquisitions and containers. I didn't shovel dust anywhere. I had to scoot around a bit this morning. Everywhere received a lick and a promise. With the French doors and windows flung wide open to catch the cooling breezes, there is every possibility my friends thought the dust had just blown in over the last few hours.
Now being a glutton for punishment I have invited another couple over for supper on Friday. This time I will clean and tidy properly on Thursday. I will remove the bags of compost and empty plant containers from the patio chairs and table so that we are able to drink our aperitif outdoors. I will prepare a simple onepot dish and have salad. In which case it will probably be chilly and wet. I will inform the Met Office so they can put out an accurate forecast.
Saturday, 10 May 2008
Crash Bang Wallop
Crash bang wallop, what a foolish arse there I was, .... carrying two bags full of groceries stepping over another bag on the step, catching my toes in the handle it was all I could do to remain upright.
After bridge lesson on Wednesday I'd called in to Waitrose on my way home. It's a bit of a hike to get all the groceries up to the house. Usually MyMan plays his part by opening the front door for me. This day he didn't so I set the 4 heavy bags down on the front step and fished in my pocket for the house key. As the door opened I picked up the 2 bags to my left and then stepped over the bags in front of me. The leading foot had just connected with the ground when I realised my right foot was in the clasp of a clinging plastic handle. Still clutching my full bags of groceries I felt like an unbalanced Statue of Justice teetering and staggering down the entrance hall trying to shake my trapped foot free. I saved myself from hitting the deck. But all my back muscles from shoulder to bottom, thighs to calves, all had a generously vigorous workout. I'm still suffering the effects 3 days later.
We've had a busy 3 weeks. It's meant increased stress. Along with the effects of hay fever, it means I am even more accident prone than usual. If you are in East Devon and see a silver Jazz heading in your direction - I'd steer clear - just to be on the safe side.
After bridge lesson on Wednesday I'd called in to Waitrose on my way home. It's a bit of a hike to get all the groceries up to the house. Usually MyMan plays his part by opening the front door for me. This day he didn't so I set the 4 heavy bags down on the front step and fished in my pocket for the house key. As the door opened I picked up the 2 bags to my left and then stepped over the bags in front of me. The leading foot had just connected with the ground when I realised my right foot was in the clasp of a clinging plastic handle. Still clutching my full bags of groceries I felt like an unbalanced Statue of Justice teetering and staggering down the entrance hall trying to shake my trapped foot free. I saved myself from hitting the deck. But all my back muscles from shoulder to bottom, thighs to calves, all had a generously vigorous workout. I'm still suffering the effects 3 days later.
We've had a busy 3 weeks. It's meant increased stress. Along with the effects of hay fever, it means I am even more accident prone than usual. If you are in East Devon and see a silver Jazz heading in your direction - I'd steer clear - just to be on the safe side.
Thursday, 1 May 2008
Still Married, for Better or Worse ...
We are still married, it has been a close call a few times over the last few weeks. But now I am taking more 'time out' for myself. It helps. The house gets dustier and more grimy - I can't do everything. There are only 24 hours in a day, something had to get placed on the back burner and cleaning has never been my favourite chore. But my mental well being needed a fillip. Or a Philip might be even better!
- I am now in the middle of my 3rd week studying and trying to get to grips with playing Bridge. I always enjoy new experiences, new challenges and learning.
- I've been to Exeter City twice to browse the shops. I'm a little out of practice and need to build up my shopping stamina - 2 hours was more than enough. I'll take a more leisurely view next time. Have a coffee, visit the Cathedral. My trip to Exeter on Tuesday coincided with torrential rain and flooded streets. I had to paddle. Was drenched to the skin and returned home faster than I anticipated and empty handed - apart from a new umbrella.
- A friend is due to visit in July and my plans for a weekend away in Gloucestershire in the autumn, meeting up with old friends and neighbours are progressing well.
Sunday, 13 April 2008
Advertisments
I couldn't help smiling when I noticed a Google ad for 'Carer's Allowance' from Direct.gov. co. uk on my side bar.
HUH - they make you jump through demeaning hoops; all ways front and back, top n tail, and do their damnedest not to pay it.... They hope that you'll give up the whole idea by wearing you down along with the threat that if you challenge their decision, the pittance you have been granted [so far] may be withdrawn.
HUH - they make you jump through demeaning hoops; all ways front and back, top n tail, and do their damnedest not to pay it.... They hope that you'll give up the whole idea by wearing you down along with the threat that if you challenge their decision, the pittance you have been granted [so far] may be withdrawn.
Friday, 11 April 2008
3 Good Things
- I start Bridge lessons next week. A very kind friend has offered to set up a game as she will find it 'very easy to lower' her standard to help me gain experience. The thought is very kind but the comment made me laugh - I told her that I'd soon be beating the pants off her - especially if we play for money. Do you do that in Bridge? It sounds so genteel and proper! I may be too loud and not serious enough. But will be fun to find out.
- The new furniture is much smaller and more compact than our old traditional style. But is is so comfortable. To sit and read or watch TV will be a really luxurious time. Bliss.
- Woolacombe Bay Hotel is offering Dinner Bed & Breakfast breaks for £52 per person per night - I'm planning to run away from home for a couple of nights - to spend time being alone. Some walks along the coast. Nothing to think about but just to relax and dream for 3 days.
Thursday, 10 April 2008
Waving Not Drowning
I am waving not drowning even though sometimes I have felt as if I'm drowning. MyMan has been in the depths of depression, again. No matter how hard everything gets I try to remain positive and active. He has been unbearably rude, angry, peevish, irritable, short tempered and there is nothing that will please him. Today he tells me he feels anxious but is not aware of a cause for the anxiety. He is taking a great deal of my time. One of the reasons I have found it difficult to keep up with regular blog posts.
Initially when I started blogging it was agreed between us that I could have a couple of hours a few times a week in which to be 'creative' and have fun. However, there is an element of jealousy within him that I'm able to lose myself in something like blogging or writing letters to friends. He may be silent and uncommunicative most of the day but within a few minutes of his realising that I am immersed in something he wants to chat. To talk over his feeling, his nightmares, or to find out "when dinner will be?" ( the usual time - 6.30) and then to ask "what can I eat now" as he's hungry and unable to wait. He gets uppity if I tell him that I am trying to concentrate when he returns to offer me a cup of coffee. I yearn for some privacy and time to be me. It may be that I'll have to forgo some sleep and take to being creative again in the early hours of the morning.
This morning he has gone to the surgery for a fasting blood test. For once I wasn't free to offer to take him. I would have found it difficult. I'm waiting for an online grocery order to arrive and some new furniture. He had the chance to change the appointment but refused. But this morning he is tired and anxious about going out to town alone.
Initially when I started blogging it was agreed between us that I could have a couple of hours a few times a week in which to be 'creative' and have fun. However, there is an element of jealousy within him that I'm able to lose myself in something like blogging or writing letters to friends. He may be silent and uncommunicative most of the day but within a few minutes of his realising that I am immersed in something he wants to chat. To talk over his feeling, his nightmares, or to find out "when dinner will be?" ( the usual time - 6.30) and then to ask "what can I eat now" as he's hungry and unable to wait. He gets uppity if I tell him that I am trying to concentrate when he returns to offer me a cup of coffee. I yearn for some privacy and time to be me. It may be that I'll have to forgo some sleep and take to being creative again in the early hours of the morning.
This morning he has gone to the surgery for a fasting blood test. For once I wasn't free to offer to take him. I would have found it difficult. I'm waiting for an online grocery order to arrive and some new furniture. He had the chance to change the appointment but refused. But this morning he is tired and anxious about going out to town alone.
Monday, 31 March 2008
3 Funny BT's
- A very large rook attempting to attack a very small fat ball in the tree with 10 other rooks all on the ground waiting and hoping that some fat crumbs will fall their way.
- A fat squirrel trying to chase all other squirrels away from the peanuts - so busy chasing them it fails to notice that there is always one squirrel left behind to feast at leisure
- Birds feeding mates with choice titbits , fluttering and flirting and showing off around the feeders.
Spring is in the air.
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
An Apology
I had a handsome apology yesterday morning. MyMan said that I was quite right in what I had suggested the day before. My suggestion on what I believed needed doing and the manner in which I thought it should be done would have saved us time and stress on Tuesday morning when 2 men came to collect our surplus household goods.
Our trouble is that I am a natural born organiser. Previously when MyMan worked away from home I was used to organising/arranging/overseeing all practical tasks. A sort of Domestic Project Manager. I find it difficult not to continue in the role. MyMan still has very low energy levels. I therefore try and conserve his physical/mental energy to cope with the tasks that I find physically impossible to complete. I do a great deal of thinking and planning. When I try to talk it through with him - 'the plan of action' - he doesn't want to be bothered with the details or the nitty gritty. He's too tired to bother. But when we come to getting on with the job he dislikes being directed on what to do. He feels too weak to cope and this along with his current low self esteem makes him even angrier.
It's not helped by the fact that the small domestic jobs he said he would sort out didn't go to plan. Getting out the recycling and rubbish after the Good Friday and Easter Monday bank holiday. He hadn't read the information sheet from EDDC correctly. He confused the recycling with the rubbish collection days. We therefore missed both. I thought it was more than my life was worth to check up on this and left him to his own devices. If I'd questioned the fact that recycling was postponed by a day it would have undermined his feelings but now that he has found out he made the mistake he feels even more incompetent. There is no way I can see of getting this right .....
At least we've had a laugh together today. I told him that this morning as I dressed I put on my watch and wedding ring. It reminded me it was the same action which made me pause and think rather than storming out and leaving him on Monday afternoon. About how ridiculous it was. In the midst of getting ready to walk out and leave I am carefully putting on my wedding ring .... Now if I wore my ring permanently I may have been long gone by now..
Our trouble is that I am a natural born organiser. Previously when MyMan worked away from home I was used to organising/arranging/overseeing all practical tasks. A sort of Domestic Project Manager. I find it difficult not to continue in the role. MyMan still has very low energy levels. I therefore try and conserve his physical/mental energy to cope with the tasks that I find physically impossible to complete. I do a great deal of thinking and planning. When I try to talk it through with him - 'the plan of action' - he doesn't want to be bothered with the details or the nitty gritty. He's too tired to bother. But when we come to getting on with the job he dislikes being directed on what to do. He feels too weak to cope and this along with his current low self esteem makes him even angrier.
It's not helped by the fact that the small domestic jobs he said he would sort out didn't go to plan. Getting out the recycling and rubbish after the Good Friday and Easter Monday bank holiday. He hadn't read the information sheet from EDDC correctly. He confused the recycling with the rubbish collection days. We therefore missed both. I thought it was more than my life was worth to check up on this and left him to his own devices. If I'd questioned the fact that recycling was postponed by a day it would have undermined his feelings but now that he has found out he made the mistake he feels even more incompetent. There is no way I can see of getting this right .....
At least we've had a laugh together today. I told him that this morning as I dressed I put on my watch and wedding ring. It reminded me it was the same action which made me pause and think rather than storming out and leaving him on Monday afternoon. About how ridiculous it was. In the midst of getting ready to walk out and leave I am carefully putting on my wedding ring .... Now if I wore my ring permanently I may have been long gone by now..
Monday, 24 March 2008
What a pain
MyMan did have another extraction last week. It was a difficult one. this tooth had a 'hooked' root. Since then he has suffered even more neuralgia, a swollen face and extreme migraines caused by the increased tension in his neck muscles. To say that he has been even more withdrawn and impatient would be an understatement. I've spent a week tip toeing around him. Making him as comfortable as possible. Helping him by producing easy chew foods, quietly reading in the lounge while he watches cricket, not complaining when he's impatient or aggressive.
But today we had a chore to complete. A deadline to meet for Tuesday morning when MyMan had arrange for someone to collect a pile of furniture for sale (we are de-cluttering in readiness to downsize). I tried to be as accommodating and helpful as possible. I could see that he was still in pain. But when I couldn't understand something, I asked the wrong thing in the wrong way at the wrong time and before I knew it I was accused of being difficult. Then we were in the middle of a full scale argument. A Mega Row. I have never felt so angry in all my life. I don't do anger. I surprised myself and him.
I said I was off out to get away. I was sorely tempted to pack my bags and leave. But in the act of collecting my out door things, my bag and credit card I realised that to storm out I'd find it hard, later when Ihad calmed down, to return. I very much wanted to leave and never return. But knew that at some point I would worry enough about him to return home. I didn't go anywhere. I sat and tried to figure out how best to cope with the fact that this isn't just a case of 'at the moment' but that 'this is it' . He hasn't got any better over 7 years. I need to re-adjust and accept that this is it.
I'm still keen on the idea of his/her's apartments. Where I can do all the domestic routine chores to ensure he is clean, tidy and well catered for. But so that I am able to have my own separate space too. Where I can invite friends in to chat, laugh, drink tea - or better still wine. Gossip and exchange views. Where I can relax and connect with people without the awareness that he's not happy, not feeling sociable, that he is irritated by the talk of people's holidays, envious of their enjoyment of the simple things in life. Where he is just about coping until they leave. I find it inhibits my usual laid back relaxing way of entertaining. It's far too stressful to contemplate throwing any tea or dinner party.
I have always been more socialable than he. I grew up with large family gatherings. He didn't. Our family would gather round the table after tea for card games. Simple fun noisy games if children were included, otherwise cribbage, solo, whist tournaments. We used to be each other's best friend. He didn't feel the need to include others. But he used to recognise that I was different. We used to 'give and take' in turn. Now it feels as if I'm always giving and he's always taking.
Needless to say - being a woman I eventually cried. This time I shed tears in luxury on the settee, not in the car park in the driving rain. More words, recriminations. How frustrated and angry he feels and how 'useless'. We managed to get beyond the anger and my tears. Tried to sort out how we could cope. There is no definite answer. I was so sorely tempted to accept and run with the idea that we separate when he wondered if it would 'be for the best'. He knows the effect it has on me but he doesn't feel able to change - enough.
Physically now I feel awful. Sore eyes , stuffed head, thick nose, stiff shoulders and neck. He appears revitalised and hasn't moaned once this evening about how low spirited he feels or the amount of pain hehas. Perhaps I should lose my temper more often.
But today we had a chore to complete. A deadline to meet for Tuesday morning when MyMan had arrange for someone to collect a pile of furniture for sale (we are de-cluttering in readiness to downsize). I tried to be as accommodating and helpful as possible. I could see that he was still in pain. But when I couldn't understand something, I asked the wrong thing in the wrong way at the wrong time and before I knew it I was accused of being difficult. Then we were in the middle of a full scale argument. A Mega Row. I have never felt so angry in all my life. I don't do anger. I surprised myself and him.
I said I was off out to get away. I was sorely tempted to pack my bags and leave. But in the act of collecting my out door things, my bag and credit card I realised that to storm out I'd find it hard, later when Ihad calmed down, to return. I very much wanted to leave and never return. But knew that at some point I would worry enough about him to return home. I didn't go anywhere. I sat and tried to figure out how best to cope with the fact that this isn't just a case of 'at the moment' but that 'this is it' . He hasn't got any better over 7 years. I need to re-adjust and accept that this is it.
I'm still keen on the idea of his/her's apartments. Where I can do all the domestic routine chores to ensure he is clean, tidy and well catered for. But so that I am able to have my own separate space too. Where I can invite friends in to chat, laugh, drink tea - or better still wine. Gossip and exchange views. Where I can relax and connect with people without the awareness that he's not happy, not feeling sociable, that he is irritated by the talk of people's holidays, envious of their enjoyment of the simple things in life. Where he is just about coping until they leave. I find it inhibits my usual laid back relaxing way of entertaining. It's far too stressful to contemplate throwing any tea or dinner party.
I have always been more socialable than he. I grew up with large family gatherings. He didn't. Our family would gather round the table after tea for card games. Simple fun noisy games if children were included, otherwise cribbage, solo, whist tournaments. We used to be each other's best friend. He didn't feel the need to include others. But he used to recognise that I was different. We used to 'give and take' in turn. Now it feels as if I'm always giving and he's always taking.
Needless to say - being a woman I eventually cried. This time I shed tears in luxury on the settee, not in the car park in the driving rain. More words, recriminations. How frustrated and angry he feels and how 'useless'. We managed to get beyond the anger and my tears. Tried to sort out how we could cope. There is no definite answer. I was so sorely tempted to accept and run with the idea that we separate when he wondered if it would 'be for the best'. He knows the effect it has on me but he doesn't feel able to change - enough.
Physically now I feel awful. Sore eyes , stuffed head, thick nose, stiff shoulders and neck. He appears revitalised and hasn't moaned once this evening about how low spirited he feels or the amount of pain hehas. Perhaps I should lose my temper more often.
Thursday, 13 March 2008
It's Not All Bad News Week
It's not been all bad news this week. It started out rather gloomy. Our gardener , trusty Ted is retiring at the end of March. We have a fairly large garden. Working on it's a bit like the painting the Forth Bridge once you've been around weeded here and there, pruned, manicured and tidied then it's time to start once more at the beginning. It's on rising ground so is quite heavy work for someone with weak ankles. Ted helps out for 2 hours a week through rain and shine. He supplies the muscle. I point and request that an old conifer be removed and before I know it I have a lovely well dug, composted, clear plot of earth where I can plant up my latest acquisition, currently more hellebores.
We have known since the beginning of the year that Ted was retiring. However hard I tried I could not find anyone else willing to help out on a regular basis. Friends recently moved into an apartment and dismissed their regular gardener. I approached him but found he plans on retiring soon and is not taking on any new customers. Then last week I saw a young man working in a front garden. I asked if he would be interested. He came looked and agreed to fit us in. An ex nursery man he is young enough not to be thinking of retiring for a good few years yet. Now I know I still have muscle available I can get on with making plans for the changes I want to undertake this year.
So my 3 good things this week are:
- I have a gardener to assist on the heavy work- until further notice. The camellias are in bloom and survived this week's ferocious winds
- I won £100 on the Premium Bond - new plant money
- Blue tits are nesting in a box that was put up 8 years ago and has never been used. It is sited so that we have a very good view from the house. It has already cheered MyMan to watch them fly to and fro with nesting material.
Mad March Hares and Woes
Mad March Hares - I know the feeling. I've been full of woes. Probably a wee dose of post viral depression. I've found it quite difficult to shake off the final vestiges of the cough. I still feel quite lacking in energy. What I need is a pick me up. A little retail therapy wouldn't go amiss. I went shopping in Exeter last April and promised myself a monthly trip to the city. I've not been back since. It would be nice to go there again, hopefully before April. Then at least I could say I go to the city twice a year.
MyMan is recovered from having his last 2 teeth drawn. But it really has taken a toll on his neck and back. He has neuralgia caused I assume from his over stressed neck muscles. But he thinks the neuralgia is caused by another tooth that will need to be pulled. He has made another appointment with the dentist for next week. I'm a little concerned that he will still have the pain after the next tooth is taken out. I hope the dentist will check it out carefully before making a decision.
MyMan still continues to be 'away with the fairies' at odd times. He has muddled his prescription requests. Asking for more of the pills he only got a week ago and forgetting to get pills he needs for this week - he had obviously ticked the wrong box when the prescription went in to the surgery. I have to go into town to collect it and end up running in and out of the chemist twice a week. My patience is still at a low ebb - almost non-existent. I told him he can continue to be independent on sorting his medication but I intend to take on a supervisory role. I have other more interesting things I'd like to do rather than trips in and out of the chemist twice a week.
MyMan is recovered from having his last 2 teeth drawn. But it really has taken a toll on his neck and back. He has neuralgia caused I assume from his over stressed neck muscles. But he thinks the neuralgia is caused by another tooth that will need to be pulled. He has made another appointment with the dentist for next week. I'm a little concerned that he will still have the pain after the next tooth is taken out. I hope the dentist will check it out carefully before making a decision.
MyMan still continues to be 'away with the fairies' at odd times. He has muddled his prescription requests. Asking for more of the pills he only got a week ago and forgetting to get pills he needs for this week - he had obviously ticked the wrong box when the prescription went in to the surgery. I have to go into town to collect it and end up running in and out of the chemist twice a week. My patience is still at a low ebb - almost non-existent. I told him he can continue to be independent on sorting his medication but I intend to take on a supervisory role. I have other more interesting things I'd like to do rather than trips in and out of the chemist twice a week.
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
Final Dental Hurdle
I'm still coughing like a regular smoking trooper. MyMan claims he's had the same virus but minus the cold and he escaped the cough as well. In which case he has been lucky for once. Although I still feel washed out like a limp dishcloth I've tried to get back into the normal routine i.e. cooking, shopping, cleaning, nurturing. No, that last one would be a lie. I still feel a bit detached and couldn't CareLess. Tomorrow MyMan visits the dentist to have the last of 2 diseased teeth extracted. I just hope the dentist is right when he says that he should notice the difference in his general health.
I've started to worry about his lack of memory/concentration again. [MyMan's, not the dentist's] Can it only be due to weariness and depression? I still can't help but worry sometimes that he appears as if he is on the verge of Old Timer's Disease. He has had severe back spasms recently. I couldn't help but notice that he would keep bending to raise the lid of the kitchen bin rather than using the foot pedal. I asked if his leg/foot was hurting. No - it turned out the he had 'forgotten' about the pedal. Sometimes we also have great difficulty communicating on some simple issue. It's as if he can't understand what I am saying or has forgotten how to reply. When he is like this he gets increasingly irritated and fractious.
I'll have to go to see the doctor soon. I need an annual check. I've not had one for 3 years. I'll voice some of my worries when I see him.
I've started to worry about his lack of memory/concentration again. [MyMan's, not the dentist's] Can it only be due to weariness and depression? I still can't help but worry sometimes that he appears as if he is on the verge of Old Timer's Disease. He has had severe back spasms recently. I couldn't help but notice that he would keep bending to raise the lid of the kitchen bin rather than using the foot pedal. I asked if his leg/foot was hurting. No - it turned out the he had 'forgotten' about the pedal. Sometimes we also have great difficulty communicating on some simple issue. It's as if he can't understand what I am saying or has forgotten how to reply. When he is like this he gets increasingly irritated and fractious.
I'll have to go to see the doctor soon. I need an annual check. I've not had one for 3 years. I'll voice some of my worries when I see him.
Sunday, 24 February 2008
Carer's Get Ill Too
Carer's get ill too. It's been difficult this last week. Once I felt the virus take hold I did a quick shop to get most of the necessary stores in to cope with not going out for daily supplies. MyMan, I suggested would have to take his own prescription in to the surgery - it would be one less chore for me to worry about. He managed this but it took him 4 days to muster the strength to do so. It should now be at the chemist waiting for me to collect it tomorrow.
He kept on asking 'how he could help' but would then forget what I suggested would be helpful. Any chore from emptying the dishwasher to making a pot of tea or taking the rubbish out would elict the reponse of "I'll do it in my own good time - when I've the energy".
The worse I felt the more tired I became the less I cared. Orange juice, grapefruit juice, soup, fruit and gallons of water was all I wanted. I gave up on the idea of a hot pot of tea. I almost gave up on the idea of emptying the dishwasher. Dirty glasses, mugs, dishes all piled up on the kitchen surface above the dishwasher which now stored clean crockery. Eventually when there were no clean crocks left in the cupboard I emptied the dishwasher and started to refill it with the pile of used dishes.
My not being well causes him increased anxiety. He would feel happier if I went to see the doctor. But I see no point when it is 'just a virus'. I reassure him that if there is any sign of an infection I'll go to the doctor. He is still sceptical, doesn't trust me - he sees me as a stoic. I am, but I'm not daft. I'm 'sensible' as the doctor often tells me. MyMan gets irritable when I ignore his advice. Me? - I just want to be left alone - to feel unwell- sleep when I can and ride it out. But I can't, I still have to act as care giver and provider of emotional support. My being unwell has taken its toll. However much I have tried to reassure him, this week has exhausted him.
He kept on asking 'how he could help' but would then forget what I suggested would be helpful. Any chore from emptying the dishwasher to making a pot of tea or taking the rubbish out would elict the reponse of "I'll do it in my own good time - when I've the energy".
The worse I felt the more tired I became the less I cared. Orange juice, grapefruit juice, soup, fruit and gallons of water was all I wanted. I gave up on the idea of a hot pot of tea. I almost gave up on the idea of emptying the dishwasher. Dirty glasses, mugs, dishes all piled up on the kitchen surface above the dishwasher which now stored clean crockery. Eventually when there were no clean crocks left in the cupboard I emptied the dishwasher and started to refill it with the pile of used dishes.
"I told you to leave that - I said I'd do it! " he said.
"Yes I know - but when?", is what I wanted to know.
My not being well causes him increased anxiety. He would feel happier if I went to see the doctor. But I see no point when it is 'just a virus'. I reassure him that if there is any sign of an infection I'll go to the doctor. He is still sceptical, doesn't trust me - he sees me as a stoic. I am, but I'm not daft. I'm 'sensible' as the doctor often tells me. MyMan gets irritable when I ignore his advice. Me? - I just want to be left alone - to feel unwell- sleep when I can and ride it out. But I can't, I still have to act as care giver and provider of emotional support. My being unwell has taken its toll. However much I have tried to reassure him, this week has exhausted him.
I'm Still Rolling Along ...
I'm still rolling along ... I ended up with a hacking wheezing rattly cough. A cough and dry throat which stopped me from sleeping for most of the week. I felt exhausted. Every breathe I took made me sound as if I had an '80- a- day' habit. After a few days it eventually started to clear - now I have a streaming cold. That I can live with. It's the coughing that has been so very wearying. My chest and diaphragm muscles have had an incredible work out.
A few weeks ago I made MyMan change his massage appointment. He'd made a date to have his regular deep tissue massage on my birthday. He usually needs at least 24 hours to recover and I didn't want to spend another birthday alone with no one around to help me celebrate. All my close local friends are currently touring the wilds of south Africa, on a Caribbean cruise, or exploring the depths of south America. I was hoping that at least MyMan and I would be able to go out for a short while to the local pub for lunch.
In the event I slept on and off for the majority of the day. Only opening my cards and presents mid afternoon. I've had some lovely cards - for me as aunt, niece, cousin, sister, friend, someone special and Wife - all telling me how special I am. I also had a few texts/email messages from other folk who have been laid up with various viruses or chest infections and unable to shop or post cards along with text wishes from those travelling abroad. It was good to be remembered by so many people.
I had started to think of an informal party to celebrate my 60th next year. But if this chest infection had hit when I'd planned a 'Bit of a Do' - I would be extremely peeved. Perhaps I'd better just leave it to an ad hoc arrangement nearer the date. Meanwhile I still have a 'birthday lunch' to look forward to - maybe in a few weeks...
A few weeks ago I made MyMan change his massage appointment. He'd made a date to have his regular deep tissue massage on my birthday. He usually needs at least 24 hours to recover and I didn't want to spend another birthday alone with no one around to help me celebrate. All my close local friends are currently touring the wilds of south Africa, on a Caribbean cruise, or exploring the depths of south America. I was hoping that at least MyMan and I would be able to go out for a short while to the local pub for lunch.
In the event I slept on and off for the majority of the day. Only opening my cards and presents mid afternoon. I've had some lovely cards - for me as aunt, niece, cousin, sister, friend, someone special and Wife - all telling me how special I am. I also had a few texts/email messages from other folk who have been laid up with various viruses or chest infections and unable to shop or post cards along with text wishes from those travelling abroad. It was good to be remembered by so many people.
I had started to think of an informal party to celebrate my 60th next year. But if this chest infection had hit when I'd planned a 'Bit of a Do' - I would be extremely peeved. Perhaps I'd better just leave it to an ad hoc arrangement nearer the date. Meanwhile I still have a 'birthday lunch' to look forward to - maybe in a few weeks...
Monday, 18 February 2008
Three Wheels on my Wagon
Well - the diet has definitely been off for the last couple of days. I was feeling spaced out on Saturday. Then yesterday I just felt so cold all day. In the afternoon I ended up wrapped up in my dressing gown clutching a hot water bottle and eating anything and everything in sight while I sat and watched 'Gone With the Wind' on TCM. I have never seen it before. Amazing seeing as I am nearly 60 and the film is 10 years older than I.
Today I have the start of a cold. I feel crabby and clutzy. If there is anything to bang into, trip or fall over, I have. I have bruised ankles and ache from head to foot. I had toast for breakfast, ham/tomato sandwich and big CAKE for lunch and am trying to desist from eating biscuits with an afternoon cuppa. I am trying to get back on the straight and narrow.
MyMan is barely talking to me. As I feel crabby I have a very short temper. He only has to sound slightly peevishly queroulous and I am biting back sharpish. Yesterday he couldn't understand why I was watching 'trashy' TV - today he wishes I still was. There isn't room in this house for more than one invalid. I've been out to stock up on orange juice, fruit and food for the week (in case I get worse). Tomorrow MyMan may have to take his own prescription into town.
Sunday, 17 February 2008
An A Weigh Day
I'm really glad to say that I'm now 7lb [maybe 10lb] lighter than at Christmas. The doubt about the 3lb difference is down to not weighing myself until several days after the start of my change of eating habits. I found an old blouse at the back of the wardrobe which I'd not worn for 3 years. I had nearly thrown it out as far too tight. It fits again - a little snugly but presentable.
Monday will be my next 'official' weigh day. I weigh myself each morning as soon as I'm out of bed. But the Monday weigh-in is the only one which is recorded in my diary. A bit like the FTSE 100 the numbers on the scales are inclined to 'flirt' on and off with the next magic number appearing fleetingly over a few days before it becomes the regular measurement. Then I start to aim for the next 'magic' number. Perhaps like the share prices I should have the days high and low recorded.
We've had a few of our now 'usual' problems. MyMan's mood has taken a down turn again after the brief respite over the Christmas and new year holidays. He is in much pain - it is stopping him from doing what he wants to do - and making him very unsociable again. He refuses to take pain medication as he wants to 'save it' for when he really needs it. I wonder whether he means next Christmas. He has withdrawn into himself. He is short tempered and crabby to live with.
This has just highlighted how much I allow his mood to affect me. And the fact that I turn to food for comfort. I'm finding it very hard not to cheer myself up with a cake or some chocolates. I have opened a bottle of red wine; a 'medicinal' treat which should last a week. I must find other pleasures that do not involve food. I wonder whether my mother is to blame. Her and the medics. I'm beginning to think that as a child I must have been given a food based treat everytime I fell over and hurt myself. Just as the doctor gave me a sweet after every innoculation.
I'm planning a break away with an old friend and ex work colleague. A trip in the autumn back to Gloucestershire. A chance to meet with old friends/colleagues. But I do not want to be seen as 30lbs heavier than 10 years ago. I hold this thought in my mind to try and maintain my determination. I will treat myself to a massage when I have lost another 7lbs.
Monday will be my next 'official' weigh day. I weigh myself each morning as soon as I'm out of bed. But the Monday weigh-in is the only one which is recorded in my diary. A bit like the FTSE 100 the numbers on the scales are inclined to 'flirt' on and off with the next magic number appearing fleetingly over a few days before it becomes the regular measurement. Then I start to aim for the next 'magic' number. Perhaps like the share prices I should have the days high and low recorded.
We've had a few of our now 'usual' problems. MyMan's mood has taken a down turn again after the brief respite over the Christmas and new year holidays. He is in much pain - it is stopping him from doing what he wants to do - and making him very unsociable again. He refuses to take pain medication as he wants to 'save it' for when he really needs it. I wonder whether he means next Christmas. He has withdrawn into himself. He is short tempered and crabby to live with.
This has just highlighted how much I allow his mood to affect me. And the fact that I turn to food for comfort. I'm finding it very hard not to cheer myself up with a cake or some chocolates. I have opened a bottle of red wine; a 'medicinal' treat which should last a week. I must find other pleasures that do not involve food. I wonder whether my mother is to blame. Her and the medics. I'm beginning to think that as a child I must have been given a food based treat everytime I fell over and hurt myself. Just as the doctor gave me a sweet after every innoculation.
I'm planning a break away with an old friend and ex work colleague. A trip in the autumn back to Gloucestershire. A chance to meet with old friends/colleagues. But I do not want to be seen as 30lbs heavier than 10 years ago. I hold this thought in my mind to try and maintain my determination. I will treat myself to a massage when I have lost another 7lbs.
Saturday, 9 February 2008
Comfort Foods
Yes - the diet has been going really well. My large clothes have started to have spare spaces again. They are not as voluminous as previously but are definitely looser. As I hadn't taken much notice of the weight creeping on I have no idea what I weighed when I started to diet. I lost a few pounds before I started to weigh myself daily. Sometimes hourly! I know I shouldn't but when I'm struggling it does help concetrate my mind. Since I have been keeping a tally I know I have lost 7lbs. So maybe it is more like 10+lbs overall.
I've managed to reduce bread, cakes, biscuits to almost zero consumption. I really miss my toast and marmalade.I rewarded myself with a toast for breakfasta few days ago. But it left me hungry and looking for food for the rest of the day. Not a treat that I'll repeat in a hurry. I've increased the fruit and vegetable content. I keep an eye on reduced fat content. No wine.
I've managed to reduce bread, cakes, biscuits to almost zero consumption. I really miss my toast and marmalade.I rewarded myself with a toast for breakfasta few days ago. But it left me hungry and looking for food for the rest of the day. Not a treat that I'll repeat in a hurry. I've increased the fruit and vegetable content. I keep an eye on reduced fat content. No wine.
Now to cope with the deprivation I have bought a small stash of treats: low calorie choc biscuits (Kitkats/Penguins). I'm the kind of dieter that likes to have something nice and unnecessary. I think about it and check that I really, really do want to eat it today. Imagine my irritation when, after thinking about a treat for 5 days and deciding that yes this was the day I'd have something, finding they had all been eaten. Eaten by MyMan.
MyMan who claims he desperately needs to lose weight . Yet who is still on full rations of all the usual foods. Who still eats toast, cakes, biscuits, cereals and puddings. He knows the choc bars are not for him. He claims he doesn't really like them. He wants me to stop buying them. Well, I don't intend to. I'll buy a mouse trap and put that in the pot where I keep my treats. That'll teach him. Meanwhile, I have 4 packs of Iced Gems (approx 100 cals). They should be safe as he still has a sore mouth and gums after his visits to the dentist.
Friday, 25 January 2008
It's Not All Gloom
Although My Man is finding everything a great trial( he keeps heaving heavy sighs, and doesn't want music on) it isn't all gloom and despondency. I'm trying to retain my natural optimism. I'm making plans. I do not want 2008 to pass by in the depressing blur that was 2007. Looking back I can see just how sad and depressed I also had become. Some of this was as a result of unresolved grief. I had endured several losses over the last 5 years. Much loved friends, family members and finally our 2 cats. Losses which coincided with the sudden down turn in MyMan's health. I therefore didn't perhaps allow these feelings of bereavement and loss to be recognised properly. I was burying all my upset and anguish. I thought it would be worse to grieve openly. I was wrong. It had to come out in some way. Eventually it did.
I kept pushing myself to just keep going. Food became a great solace. I became a comfort eater. Preparation and cooking became a chore. Apart from baking cakes which I've always found therapeutic. I also became an enthusiastic eater of my cakes. For our main meals I became a lazy cook. Careless of fat content.
Lack of conversation or company at home drove me out to meet friends to talk and laugh over coffee - and cakes. Socialising meant I didn't have time to walk as much as usual. A foot problem also restricted me. I figured that it was my mental well being that needed nurturing more than my physical. So excess weight crept on weekly. I've always liked loose clothes so I didn't always notice that I was slowly filling up the spare spaces. I still ate a good diet of fruit and veges but it was extra treats. Blood pressure very good, blood sugar levels excellent and low cholesterol meant I didn't take much notice of the extra fat. Being overweight, fat or obese meant nothing.
But then the change in MyMan at Christmas meant we started to socialise together again. I had a glimpse of how life used to be and thought we were returning to how 'things used to be'. I started to make plans. I wanted to shop and buy new clothes. At this point I became aware of how fat I had become. I resolved that this problem should be sorted - soon. I changed my diet. I now take care to skim off fat from casseroles, less potatoes, less carbs, less fat, more time, more thought, more care taken. Weight started to shift. It started to go - weekly. Slowly but surely. Life is far from perfect so I still have the odd naughty treat.
I thought that my weight wasn't stopping me from doing anything I wanted to do. But then I thought 'I've not had a massage for 4 years'. Why not? Because I don't want to bare my body to a therapist. So I have promised myself when I've lost a stone I will treat myself to a massage. I've started walking again. It's more a pain than a pleasure but I assume that will change at some point. I've also started to study Tai Chi exercises and intend to find a class. I'm planning to take a few days at a health spa in a few months and to meet up with a friend for a weekend break in Glos where I can meet up with old neighbours and work colleagues.
I now recognise and make allowance for the fact that while life is hard for MyMan there is nothing that I am able to do to relieve his pain or raise his spirits. I've been unable to do so whatever I've tried. While I've been dragged down to the edge of that black pit to join him it still hasn't been as bleak a picture as he paints it. But I need to make sure my view point doesn't change. I have to look after my physical and mental health, regardless.
I feel more positive than I have for many a year. I am making plans ...
I kept pushing myself to just keep going. Food became a great solace. I became a comfort eater. Preparation and cooking became a chore. Apart from baking cakes which I've always found therapeutic. I also became an enthusiastic eater of my cakes. For our main meals I became a lazy cook. Careless of fat content.
Lack of conversation or company at home drove me out to meet friends to talk and laugh over coffee - and cakes. Socialising meant I didn't have time to walk as much as usual. A foot problem also restricted me. I figured that it was my mental well being that needed nurturing more than my physical. So excess weight crept on weekly. I've always liked loose clothes so I didn't always notice that I was slowly filling up the spare spaces. I still ate a good diet of fruit and veges but it was extra treats. Blood pressure very good, blood sugar levels excellent and low cholesterol meant I didn't take much notice of the extra fat. Being overweight, fat or obese meant nothing.
But then the change in MyMan at Christmas meant we started to socialise together again. I had a glimpse of how life used to be and thought we were returning to how 'things used to be'. I started to make plans. I wanted to shop and buy new clothes. At this point I became aware of how fat I had become. I resolved that this problem should be sorted - soon. I changed my diet. I now take care to skim off fat from casseroles, less potatoes, less carbs, less fat, more time, more thought, more care taken. Weight started to shift. It started to go - weekly. Slowly but surely. Life is far from perfect so I still have the odd naughty treat.
I thought that my weight wasn't stopping me from doing anything I wanted to do. But then I thought 'I've not had a massage for 4 years'. Why not? Because I don't want to bare my body to a therapist. So I have promised myself when I've lost a stone I will treat myself to a massage. I've started walking again. It's more a pain than a pleasure but I assume that will change at some point. I've also started to study Tai Chi exercises and intend to find a class. I'm planning to take a few days at a health spa in a few months and to meet up with a friend for a weekend break in Glos where I can meet up with old neighbours and work colleagues.
I now recognise and make allowance for the fact that while life is hard for MyMan there is nothing that I am able to do to relieve his pain or raise his spirits. I've been unable to do so whatever I've tried. While I've been dragged down to the edge of that black pit to join him it still hasn't been as bleak a picture as he paints it. But I need to make sure my view point doesn't change. I have to look after my physical and mental health, regardless.
I feel more positive than I have for many a year. I am making plans ...
Thursday, 24 January 2008
All My Cares Away ...
Your Worry Factor is 57% |
 While you're not a worrywart, you worry more than you should. Maybe you don't have enough to keep your mind occupied at times... Or perhaps you've trapped yourself into some bad thinking patterns. Try to worry less and enjoy life more. There's no point thinking about things you can't change! |
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
January Blues
It's been a hard month. Long dark wet days with barely any sun leave us all feeling gloomy and down. MyMan has taken a definite step backwards. The 2 teeth he had extracted a couple of weeks ago have been a real pain. Neuralgia has laid him low. A return check to the dentist yesterday garnered the information that a tooth nearby is also suspect and the filling was a 'deep' one. He's not to 'under estimate the wound' to the gum which is still yet to fully heal. So it looks as if it is going to be another long drawn out healing process - again. He still has yet 3 more teeth to be drawn. He went to have a deep tissue massage and was told his neck muscles are 'in a mess'. He is still sleeping better but the amount of pain he has daily is not helping his mood.
He feels as if he is back to square one again. Secretly so do I. But I keep reminding him of his brighter, positive mood over the Christmas break and suggest that once his teeth problems are sorted he'll return to that happier state.
All I can hang on to at the moment is that by Easter he may be over the worst. He may be feeling more positive and sociable again. Meanwhile, for me it's back to the solitary life, gritting my teeth when I feel he's being unreasonably tetchy, and socialising as a singleton again.
He feels as if he is back to square one again. Secretly so do I. But I keep reminding him of his brighter, positive mood over the Christmas break and suggest that once his teeth problems are sorted he'll return to that happier state.
All I can hang on to at the moment is that by Easter he may be over the worst. He may be feeling more positive and sociable again. Meanwhile, for me it's back to the solitary life, gritting my teeth when I feel he's being unreasonably tetchy, and socialising as a singleton again.
Thursday, 10 January 2008
A New Year Report
Christmas and new year was wonderful. Far better than I had expected. I didn't decorate the house other than to buy a couple of festive poinsettias to pop amongst my lush plant collection. Christmas cards were placed around many surfaces along with mementos, ornaments, pots and clocks of which I have many. It looked cosy enough. And with clever lighting quite festive. The clever lighting also hid the dust. We were far more social than I had anticipated. MyMan was like Rip Van Winkle coming to life after a L O N G S L E E P.
He remained positive into the new year.
He was doing well until this week. Until his first of three appointments at the dentist to have 2 of 5 teeth removed. The dentist has told him the diseased teeth could well be having an impact on his physical health. We hope that when they are all out he will feel better for it. But, as it is, he has swollen face, face pain and his neck has been buggered up by the dentists efforts to extract the teeth. He'll go to have deep tissue massage next week to prepare his neck for the onslaught of having the remaining teeth out. It's hard for him to remain positive 'at the moment' but I hope that by February/March we'll be back on track for a brighter more positive year.
He remained positive into the new year.
He was doing well until this week. Until his first of three appointments at the dentist to have 2 of 5 teeth removed. The dentist has told him the diseased teeth could well be having an impact on his physical health. We hope that when they are all out he will feel better for it. But, as it is, he has swollen face, face pain and his neck has been buggered up by the dentists efforts to extract the teeth. He'll go to have deep tissue massage next week to prepare his neck for the onslaught of having the remaining teeth out. It's hard for him to remain positive 'at the moment' but I hope that by February/March we'll be back on track for a brighter more positive year.
Tuesday, 25 December 2007
Christmas Joy
Well, I'm very pleased to say MyMan has timed a recovery very well this year. His new evening pill is really making a difference. Rather than not socialising at all we attended a drinks party yesterday evening for 2 hours. He enjoyed himself talking to people he hasn't seen for over 4 years.
In half an hour we have friends popping in to share a light lunch of turkey sandwiches and Christmas cake. This day is turning out much better than I would have guessed a few days ago. I am just posting this while I sit in front of my light box (I am so short of sleep I need a boost) and I can hear MyMan laughing aloud at the Radio 4's I haven't A Clue Team's pantomime 'Humph in Wonderland'.
Best wishes to you all
In half an hour we have friends popping in to share a light lunch of turkey sandwiches and Christmas cake. This day is turning out much better than I would have guessed a few days ago. I am just posting this while I sit in front of my light box (I am so short of sleep I need a boost) and I can hear MyMan laughing aloud at the Radio 4's I haven't A Clue Team's pantomime 'Humph in Wonderland'.
Best wishes to you all
Friday, 21 December 2007
Preparing for Seasonal Joy
My Man has never been one to get over excited about the Christmas season. Apart from the welcome 2 week break from work Christmas has never meant much to him.
I'm the opposite. I have a childish excitement and love the whole idea of Christmas from decorating the house to entertaining visitors with food and organising games. To MyMan over recent years it is just a 'reminder that another year has passed'. I feel he is a degree better than this time last year. And he agrees, but he still craves peace and quiet above all else. I don't have the energy to withstand his 'what's the point of it all' talk so we have no decorations. No plans to entertain visitors. I will attend the carol service at the Parish church on Sunday. And a drinks party I am going to with friends on Christmas eve. Other than that it will be a time for quiet, reading and relaxation. Perhaps next year we'll decide to have some Christmas fun as of olden days. I hope so.
Meanwhile there is a Christmas card for all readers who would like to go and collect from here.
I'm the opposite. I have a childish excitement and love the whole idea of Christmas from decorating the house to entertaining visitors with food and organising games. To MyMan over recent years it is just a 'reminder that another year has passed'. I feel he is a degree better than this time last year. And he agrees, but he still craves peace and quiet above all else. I don't have the energy to withstand his 'what's the point of it all' talk so we have no decorations. No plans to entertain visitors. I will attend the carol service at the Parish church on Sunday. And a drinks party I am going to with friends on Christmas eve. Other than that it will be a time for quiet, reading and relaxation. Perhaps next year we'll decide to have some Christmas fun as of olden days. I hope so.
Meanwhile there is a Christmas card for all readers who would like to go and collect from here.
Sunday, 16 December 2007
All's Well that Ends Well ....
It was really good to get away for a few days. Ignoring the fact the weather was foul. I drank wine and giggled with my sister. Had a lazy few days. I looked at a few houses. Just on a drive by basis. None of them looked interesting on paper. They looked even more uninspiring from the outside. We feel hemmed in here, in our rural village, in east Devon. I'm sure we would dislike even more a busy town environment in Surrey. I did tour quite a few locations. It would be lovely to live near family. But can I give up huge country skies, fresh air and green spaces so easily? If I can be sure of visiting family on a regular basis, twice a year or more, then I would love to stay down here in Devon.
My Man just wants peace, quiet and privacy. He no longer cares much where he lives. He rarely goes out far from home. He dislikes our house as he feels it has too many sad associations following the accident. We hadn't lived here long enough prior to the accident to lay downmany happy memories. But he can't imagine the upheaval of moving. He can't be bothered with the thought of finding an alternative.
MyMan managed without me for the week while I was away. He found it stressful before I left. His anxiety levels rose as he worried about my driving 170 miles through wind and rain. His anxiety didn't lessen during the week as he then had to worry about my trip home. He ate the yogurts and the fruit. Otherwise I think he existed only on bread, cheese and soups.
He saw the psychiatrist while I was away. He has been put once again on Mirtazipine as he has not been sleeping. He has been trying to manage without it as it makes him ravenously hungry and he is fighting to lose the 3 extra stone he's gained over the last 5 years. He finally succumbed, took a pill last night and slept as if he'd been poleaxed.
As for myself, the break away did me an enormous amount of good. Although it is hard to work through the tense days prior to leaving home I know I do need to take a break in order to re-charge my batteries. I'm beginning to make adjustments that help me cope. I feel less pulled down when MyMan has a really low patch. I know now there is nothing I can do that helps to pull him out of the pit of black despair. All I can do is to be there when he starts to re-surface. I am beginning to be more selfish and think of my own needs. The short break has left me feeling so appreciative of being once more at home. I also think that MyMan has taken less time to recover from my being absent. Another good sign. Overall a good result all round. I think.
The sad thing is that my needs are now so different from MyMan's. Although we are still travelling through life together, we are now no longer side by side. But are journeying forward in different ways. He's the hibernating tortoise and I am the hare.
Saturday, 1 December 2007
Another Break Away
I'm off to the south east to visit family. The fridge is full of yoghurts, easy meals and healthy fruit. MyMan only has to graze and to remember to take his pills properly while I am not around. He craves peace and quiet. It will be interesting to find out if that is really what he wants. We'll know in a weeks time.
Meanwhile I will be looking around the Surrey area and wondering if, after 36 years, it would be good for us to move back closer to family. No more post here until after December 10th.
Meanwhile I will be looking around the Surrey area and wondering if, after 36 years, it would be good for us to move back closer to family. No more post here until after December 10th.
Tuesday, 27 November 2007
Loss Adjusters
We have both been down. And irritable with each other. We are trying to adjust to loss. Loss of hope. For us loss adjustment means making decisions on several outstanding issues. Issues such as the old 1995 Rover that sits in the garage 6 days out of 7. Only taken out once a week it often needs the battery charger on before it will fire into life. It takes all the garden rubbish to the dump. Several skip bags at a time. My old car. Old reliable. But I now find heavy to steer.
We only really need one car. It was very hard for MyMan to cope when he let go of his large car 3 years ago. A sign of recognition that he was no longer an executive in need of a car for travelling around the nation. Trouble shooting as he went here and there. I used to have to drive it on a round trip of 30 miles once a week just to keep it going. It was completely impractical for non motorway lifestyle.
Now it is my turn. My cars. My loss of independent independence. My Jazz although wonderful and fun to drive just can't cope with the amount of garden waste that is taken to the dump each week. A large lush garden with many evergreen trees and shrubs growing continuously throughout the year. Too much to shred. Too much to rot down in one of the 4 compost bins. It would mean several trips a week just to the dump. So the Rover and the Jazz are to go to be replaced by a different vehicle. I find the Jazz such fun to drive and dislike the thought of losing it. But if we go down to only one car we need a larger, sturdier vehicle. Something MyMan will feel safer in. More secure should another thoughtless, careless driver slam into us coming round a sharp bend while talking on their mobile phone.
MyMan was told last week that 'this is it'. We had our suspicions it was so. But now we know. It will not get any better. So were are grieving for our lost dreams. The dreams we had when we moved south from Gloucestershire. Of rambling walks throughout the east Devon countryside. Trips from north to south Devon. Short breaks away in Cornwall and Dorset. None of these will be realised. MyMan is practically housebound. His driving is very limited. Therefore we also return to the idea that we need to consider a move away from our semi- rural life. A move to town or city. But where that will be is another question.
Meanwhile I'll be going off to take some test drives: Honda CRV, Toyota Rav4, Nissan X-Trail QuashQui , and Vauxhall Zafira.
We only really need one car. It was very hard for MyMan to cope when he let go of his large car 3 years ago. A sign of recognition that he was no longer an executive in need of a car for travelling around the nation. Trouble shooting as he went here and there. I used to have to drive it on a round trip of 30 miles once a week just to keep it going. It was completely impractical for non motorway lifestyle.Now it is my turn. My cars. My loss of independent independence. My Jazz although wonderful and fun to drive just can't cope with the amount of garden waste that is taken to the dump each week. A large lush garden with many evergreen trees and shrubs growing continuously throughout the year. Too much to shred. Too much to rot down in one of the 4 compost bins. It would mean several trips a week just to the dump. So the Rover and the Jazz are to go to be replaced by a different vehicle. I find the Jazz such fun to drive and dislike the thought of losing it. But if we go down to only one car we need a larger, sturdier vehicle. Something MyMan will feel safer in. More secure should another thoughtless, careless driver slam into us coming round a sharp bend while talking on their mobile phone.
MyMan was told last week that 'this is it'. We had our suspicions it was so. But now we know. It will not get any better. So were are grieving for our lost dreams. The dreams we had when we moved south from Gloucestershire. Of rambling walks throughout the east Devon countryside. Trips from north to south Devon. Short breaks away in Cornwall and Dorset. None of these will be realised. MyMan is practically housebound. His driving is very limited. Therefore we also return to the idea that we need to consider a move away from our semi- rural life. A move to town or city. But where that will be is another question.
Meanwhile I'll be going off to take some test drives: Honda CRV, Toyota Rav4, Nissan X-Trail QuashQui , and Vauxhall Zafira.
Sunday, 25 November 2007
I Could Wring His Neck ....
He feels more 'human' this weekend. He went for chiropractic treatment on Wednesday. She had to wring his neck for him; three times. At a cost of £40. I said in future I would wring his neck for free. I'll let you know if he takes me up on my offer.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
All Drained Out
I feel all drained out. MenopausalOldBag left a comment to the effect that she is "in awe of your patience and compassion". I must admit that both feel a bit low "at the moment". MyMan said a couple of hurtful remarks over the weekend. I just accepted them in the manner which they were thrown. When he's hurting he feels as if everyone and everything is against him. I'm a kind of safe outlet for some of his anger and frustration.
But Monday morning he also had another go. I felt he wasn't being 'fair'. I had neither the patience nor the fortitude to take it. Compassion didn't even raise it's head. I told him that if he didn't like what I do then he can get on and take over the task himself. Shopping is not one of my favourite chores. It does rank a little above hoovering but not much. By the time you've - trailed around the superstore chosen the items, filled the trolley, emptied the trolley, repacked it all, paid for it, driven it all home, carried it indoors and then stored it all away - I am heartily sick of dealing with it. Then every few days I have to go out to collect the 'fresh' stuff from the butcher, the baker, the greengrocer and the dairy. I would much rather sit and read a book. Well, to be honest, I don't mind the fresh food shopping as that is usually done in small shops where you get to meet and socialise with other people.
Supermarket shopping is not such fun. I only go to superstores once a month. There is always something I need that is not in stock. I find the trolley hard to manoeuvre when I'm stiff and aching. A moment of careless tiredness and I'd inadvertently picked up a pack of prunes with the stones in. He nearly lost a tooth. He suggested that I take 'more care' in future.
After a few choice words when I told him he is welcome to shop in future I left to meet a friend for coffee in town. I left home half an hour early as I had promised myself a good walk along the seafront at Sidmouth. But by the time I had parked it was raining heavily. It seemed the last straw - so I sat for 20 minutes alone in the car and wept.
But Monday morning he also had another go. I felt he wasn't being 'fair'. I had neither the patience nor the fortitude to take it. Compassion didn't even raise it's head. I told him that if he didn't like what I do then he can get on and take over the task himself. Shopping is not one of my favourite chores. It does rank a little above hoovering but not much. By the time you've - trailed around the superstore chosen the items, filled the trolley, emptied the trolley, repacked it all, paid for it, driven it all home, carried it indoors and then stored it all away - I am heartily sick of dealing with it. Then every few days I have to go out to collect the 'fresh' stuff from the butcher, the baker, the greengrocer and the dairy. I would much rather sit and read a book. Well, to be honest, I don't mind the fresh food shopping as that is usually done in small shops where you get to meet and socialise with other people.
Supermarket shopping is not such fun. I only go to superstores once a month. There is always something I need that is not in stock. I find the trolley hard to manoeuvre when I'm stiff and aching. A moment of careless tiredness and I'd inadvertently picked up a pack of prunes with the stones in. He nearly lost a tooth. He suggested that I take 'more care' in future.
After a few choice words when I told him he is welcome to shop in future I left to meet a friend for coffee in town. I left home half an hour early as I had promised myself a good walk along the seafront at Sidmouth. But by the time I had parked it was raining heavily. It seemed the last straw - so I sat for 20 minutes alone in the car and wept.
Tuesday, 20 November 2007
Lowering Standards
My sister in law paid a flying visit to us for the weekend. She was worried about her brother and as she'd not seen him since last Christmas. She booked herself into a B & B in Sidmouth. She arrived Saturday afternoon and left Sunday afternoon.
We had the builders here from Wednesday to Friday and we were even more dusty and grubby than when I last had a visitor to the house. Other than preparing a shepherds pie for Saturday supper I did very little to make the house look clean and welcoming. In fact a couple of hours before she was due to arrive I sat down to have a liesurely cup of coffee and saw a thick pile of dust and 3 dead flies on the window ledge. I wondered about getting the duster out, thought better of it and just moved a photograph frame to hide the fly cemetery. How much lower will my standards fall? I'm definitely on the slippery slope.
We had the builders here from Wednesday to Friday and we were even more dusty and grubby than when I last had a visitor to the house. Other than preparing a shepherds pie for Saturday supper I did very little to make the house look clean and welcoming. In fact a couple of hours before she was due to arrive I sat down to have a liesurely cup of coffee and saw a thick pile of dust and 3 dead flies on the window ledge. I wondered about getting the duster out, thought better of it and just moved a photograph frame to hide the fly cemetery. How much lower will my standards fall? I'm definitely on the slippery slope.
Friday, 16 November 2007
The Community Psychiatric Nurse
The male Community Psychiatric Nurse - has been of some help. After MyMan finally decided that maybe this was a resource that we should use he duly made an appointment. I had to make myself available to help him travel to the local area community mental health team.
The CPN cannot understand why he does not receive the full rate of Disability Living Allowance benefit. MyMan knows he gets DLA but couldn't remember the details [full Mobility level but low for personal care]. He was told to call at the local Jobcentre Plus to acquire a DLA application form. To fill in as much as possible and take it with him when he went to see the CPN a week later. As he is unable to concentrate we have done the form together. I've written in all the details.
It has depressed him [well, ok, the two of us] even further to fill in the form. To admit on paper just what you are unable to do for yourself is profoundly depressing. This is just on the physical aspects. We haven't yet touched on the mental health side. Over the last 5 years or more we have skimmed over the worst of his problems on the grounds that we hoped it was short term problem. But how long is short term before it turns into long term - or permanent? He is unable to bring himself to admit that if I wasn't around he would not manage without a great deal of input from someone. He needs help for so many tasks. When I have taken myself for a short break away he barely manages to wash and feed himself. The effort to keep going without me exhausts him. We then take months for him to recover and return to his version of an 'even keel'. This time we are taking more time and paying attention to the detail when completing this form.
The top rate for DLA is not much. But it will help reduce the need to pay out of our hard earned 'retirement savings' for treatments which are not covered by the NHS. He has deep tissue massage every 3 weeks but ideally weekly would be more beneficial and regular treatment from a chiropractor. The over 60's free bus pass is of no use as he needs to go by car - door to door. If I'm unavailable and he doesn't feel well enough to drive himself then it needs to be a taxi.
We are collecting together all the 'evidence' from numerous medical assessments and the form should be in the post by the end of this week. It is an exercise that has taken us several hours over 2 weeks to complete. I wonder whether the civil servant who will read it really understands just how demoralising and depressing this whole exercise has been for 2 previously independent hard working people to request this assistance.
The CPN cannot understand why he does not receive the full rate of Disability Living Allowance benefit. MyMan knows he gets DLA but couldn't remember the details [full Mobility level but low for personal care]. He was told to call at the local Jobcentre Plus to acquire a DLA application form. To fill in as much as possible and take it with him when he went to see the CPN a week later. As he is unable to concentrate we have done the form together. I've written in all the details.
It has depressed him [well, ok, the two of us] even further to fill in the form. To admit on paper just what you are unable to do for yourself is profoundly depressing. This is just on the physical aspects. We haven't yet touched on the mental health side. Over the last 5 years or more we have skimmed over the worst of his problems on the grounds that we hoped it was short term problem. But how long is short term before it turns into long term - or permanent? He is unable to bring himself to admit that if I wasn't around he would not manage without a great deal of input from someone. He needs help for so many tasks. When I have taken myself for a short break away he barely manages to wash and feed himself. The effort to keep going without me exhausts him. We then take months for him to recover and return to his version of an 'even keel'. This time we are taking more time and paying attention to the detail when completing this form.
The top rate for DLA is not much. But it will help reduce the need to pay out of our hard earned 'retirement savings' for treatments which are not covered by the NHS. He has deep tissue massage every 3 weeks but ideally weekly would be more beneficial and regular treatment from a chiropractor. The over 60's free bus pass is of no use as he needs to go by car - door to door. If I'm unavailable and he doesn't feel well enough to drive himself then it needs to be a taxi.
We are collecting together all the 'evidence' from numerous medical assessments and the form should be in the post by the end of this week. It is an exercise that has taken us several hours over 2 weeks to complete. I wonder whether the civil servant who will read it really understands just how demoralising and depressing this whole exercise has been for 2 previously independent hard working people to request this assistance.
A Week Is A Long Time in ...
They say a week is a long time in politics. Well a week is a long time here at home in east Devon too. In fact I was surprised to find that I'd last posted on this blog 2 weeks ago. so much has happened. Not much of it is good.
It's not been an easy two weeks. Following the visit to the dentist MyMan was told that he needs several teeth out. They are rotten and likely to lead to an abscess in due course. They will affect his 'well being'. I didn't ask him if the dentist managed to say this expression with a straight face. The last thing we want is his 'well being' being affected to adverse effect. Perish the thought. MyMan is suspicious. He can't believe that these teeth which were deemed all right 8 months ago by a NHS dentist are now deemed rotten under a private dentist. I am trying to encourage him that if they should come out they need to come out. I'm under the impression that if there is any life left in them they are worth a gold mine to a private dentist. He could try and work on them for months to preserve them with capping, drilling and filling and a bit of this and that. But once removed they are worthless. Therefore I believe the dentist. They'll have to come out.
It's not been an easy two weeks. Following the visit to the dentist MyMan was told that he needs several teeth out. They are rotten and likely to lead to an abscess in due course. They will affect his 'well being'. I didn't ask him if the dentist managed to say this expression with a straight face. The last thing we want is his 'well being' being affected to adverse effect. Perish the thought. MyMan is suspicious. He can't believe that these teeth which were deemed all right 8 months ago by a NHS dentist are now deemed rotten under a private dentist. I am trying to encourage him that if they should come out they need to come out. I'm under the impression that if there is any life left in them they are worth a gold mine to a private dentist. He could try and work on them for months to preserve them with capping, drilling and filling and a bit of this and that. But once removed they are worthless. Therefore I believe the dentist. They'll have to come out.
Tuesday, 30 October 2007
Small Changes
My Man usually tries to force himself out once a day for a short walk. Sometimes he feels too weak and tired to be bothered with exercise. To make his walk purposeful he'll walk to the village to buy a daily newspaper - about half a mile with an uphill walk home. He usually refuses to drive into Sidmouth with me where there is a lovely long promenade along which you can walk. There and back for a 11/2 mile level walk. But today he has had to go into town for a dental check up. As it is a beautiful, mild sunny day he is thinking of taking a walk along the seafront before he returns home. I am envious. It is such a lovely day it feels more like spring than autumn. But I am confined indoors. We have a team of hedge trimmers and tree surgeons here today. So I had to remain at home. With 4 burly men wielding petrol driven trimmers and chain saws astride ladders I need to keep out of the way. But on the hour and every hour I produce gallons of strong sweet tea and biscuits. With luck they will have finished by early afternoon and I'll get out for a walk myself.
MyMan is still a very up and down. Sunday he was so down he decided he would contact the CPN after all. He felt so low he wept. I almost weep with him. There is very little I can do to ease his pain or his low moods. Yesterday was better. We went out for a couple of hours to Topsham. Not that far at all really for a man who used to drive 100s of miles a week to various locations for work. But it is over 3 years since he was last in Topsham. He enjoyed seeing the river and the lovely buildings. He suffered pain in the neck and head long before we reached home. But the change of scene did raise his spirits. He's continued with the decision he made on sunday and has asked the CPN to call to give some advice and/or support.
Now he is at the dentist with strict instructions from me to make sure that his head and neck are properly supported during the examination. I still feel some anxiety when he is out alone. I have to remind myself he is not as bad as he was in 2005/6 when sometimes he could barely remember where he was or where he was going. In the days when I thought he was showing signs of early dementia. It may be slow progress but it is progress.
MyMan is still a very up and down. Sunday he was so down he decided he would contact the CPN after all. He felt so low he wept. I almost weep with him. There is very little I can do to ease his pain or his low moods. Yesterday was better. We went out for a couple of hours to Topsham. Not that far at all really for a man who used to drive 100s of miles a week to various locations for work. But it is over 3 years since he was last in Topsham. He enjoyed seeing the river and the lovely buildings. He suffered pain in the neck and head long before we reached home. But the change of scene did raise his spirits. He's continued with the decision he made on sunday and has asked the CPN to call to give some advice and/or support.
Now he is at the dentist with strict instructions from me to make sure that his head and neck are properly supported during the examination. I still feel some anxiety when he is out alone. I have to remind myself he is not as bad as he was in 2005/6 when sometimes he could barely remember where he was or where he was going. In the days when I thought he was showing signs of early dementia. It may be slow progress but it is progress.
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
Its A Matter of Pride
The trouble is I was feeling 'hassled' because I didn't have a spare few hours to spring clean the house in readiness for a Kay's visit. Normally when we have visitors I whizz through like a dervish with the feather duster, the polish, vacuum cleaner, oven cleaner and leather for the windows. By the time I've finished the books are in regimented order on shelves, magazines are no longer a slithering pile on coffee tables. All paperwork and mail is filed, or hidden, away. The house gleams, sparkles and smells like an aromatherapist's waiting room. I like to pretend we always live in this clean and tidy palace which somehow manages to be homely and warmly welcoming. A cake baking in the oven is the final touch.At the moment I think all I can say is it is 'homely and welcoming'. Gleaming it is not. Clean enough is the only expression I can use. I've the ingredients for a cake but think they'll not be put together until after our visitor has gone back to Norwich. I do have flowers. Several bunches have been thrust into various vases and pots. I had the choice - sweep up fallen leaves, pot up winter flowering cyclamen or housework. Today was lovely and sunny so the garden won.
I'm working on the theory that all of us whoosh around cleaning before a visitor. Maybe if I just concentrate on hygienically clean enough; ignore the cobwebs - call them conservation corners - then maybe I'll be starting a new relaxed trend. After all - do we go to see our friends to judge how clean their oven is or to chat with them, relax and laugh with a glass of wine. If I died tomorrow would they all come to my funeral and talk about what a great, intelligent, lively friend and wit I was; or would they all stand around saying 'and did you see the state of her oven?'.
I'm trying to get my priorities right. I'd rather blog than do housework so that's what I'm doing.
At least now I've no cats to walk behind the settee and emerge trailing dusty, fluffy cobwebs from their whiskery faces. So no embarrassment there then. I think I'm becoming less houseproud. I remind myself of the saying that "Dull Women Have Immaculate Houses".
Monday, 8 October 2007
Irritability Can Be Contagious
I'm full of frustration and am irritable. All manner of minor domestic problems are rearing their heads. All of them are coming up together.I have a friend visiting at the weekend. She's flying down for a flying visit from east Anglia. For the first time I've had to book her in for 2 nights B&B at a local guest house. We no longer have a guest bedroom. The guest bedroom has become my bedroom. My Man is sleepless most of the night. I go to bed, sleep the sleep of the dead for 2-3 hours then wake at 3.00 am. A couple of more hours of restless sleep then up at 5.30. This kind of sleeping pattern is not conducive to sharing a bedroom never mind a bed. We are like the little man and woman in an old fashioned weather station. If He is in[bed] then I'm out and vice versa. We've turned into a 24 hour household.
I used to be an 8 hours deep sleeper kind of woman. But over the last 4 years that seems to have changed. I don't know if it is due to circumstances or older age. I am very tired so my irritability levels are sky high. I am not nice to know. The fact that I'm irritable is irritating me. I have lost all patience with My Man who is wondering why I'm telling him to ignore his aches, his pains, his blurred vision and his sleepless nights. I now try to avoid asking him how he is. If I ask I only want a brief answer; not a blow by blow account from head to toe of every ache and non functioning body part. I tell him that I don't know the answers to his questions. Whether what he experiencing is down to side effects of the medication. He thinks he has 90% of the listed possible side effects. Of every pill he takes. I suggest he ring the male CPN [Community Psychiatric Nurse] and talk it over with him. He was given his office number and his mobile number to help during this transitional period. He'll 'think about it' - he 'may ring next week'. He was given the numbers to use if he needs support. But My Man says he's "OK - not anxious - not worried enough to bother him". I say "fine, then don't bother me either". I don't know about him but I may ring the CPN myself - I could do with some support at the moment.
Meanwhile I have a friend due at Exeter airport on Friday, a car that is reluctant to pull away in first gear without shuddering, a fridge that I have to kick the door to get it to close properly and a leaking shower that started to leak last October. MyMan refused to call a workman in to repair it as it is such a 'little job', he could do it. But 12 months later I feel enough is enough. I'm now waiting for a plumber to come and re-seal the whole shower tray. I want to be able to shower and clean the shower stall out without worrying about where the leaking water is going to ....
Monday, 1 October 2007
Another Carer's Blog Found
I found this blog recently. As far as I can see no-one has left any comments before - so this lady appears to have a low profile. You may like to visit to read. She started the blog in October 2006 and latest posting was on September 16th. I've added her to the blog links column. The following link will take you to the first entries: http://dementeddaughter.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html
Friday, 28 September 2007
Now We Can Relax ..
Yesterday I said that 'tomorrow he can be paley interesting and loiter abed'. Talk about the best laid plans of mice and men .....
Our friends arrived - the phone went and suddenly the aerial man informs us that he has booked us in to come and change the TV aerial at 10.30 a.m. Our friends also decided to call in for coffee at the same time before continuing their journey into the depths of Cornwall. All day long we seemed to have various people calling in on various diverse errands - it's been all go. No peace, no quiet.
Yesterday evening went well. A glass of wine perked me up no end. It relaxed me too - I slept well once I got to bed. My Man coped very well - he enjoyed the visit. But this morning he was suffering more pain due to 'sitting around' chatting. It can't be too bad though as he is currently 'sitting around' again but this time watching the rugby. I know that 18 months ago he would not have coped at all well with having a visitor. He had no resources and wouldn't have had the strength to to raise his game - even for a couple of hours. Therefore - he is still making progress. Also as his energy levels slowly improve so the little walks he is taking are become more regular. Which means that his muscle tone is slowly improving. Small but noticeable steps forward.
We have nothing booked for Saturday. I am ignoring all phone calls. We are going to pretend to be 'not at home' and we are going to have a very lazy day. We are both going to loiter around and linger in bed late if we wish. I wouldn't be at all surprised if I don't sleep like a log tonight, wake refreshed and get up with the thought of doing a 101 things....
Our friends arrived - the phone went and suddenly the aerial man informs us that he has booked us in to come and change the TV aerial at 10.30 a.m. Our friends also decided to call in for coffee at the same time before continuing their journey into the depths of Cornwall. All day long we seemed to have various people calling in on various diverse errands - it's been all go. No peace, no quiet.
Yesterday evening went well. A glass of wine perked me up no end. It relaxed me too - I slept well once I got to bed. My Man coped very well - he enjoyed the visit. But this morning he was suffering more pain due to 'sitting around' chatting. It can't be too bad though as he is currently 'sitting around' again but this time watching the rugby. I know that 18 months ago he would not have coped at all well with having a visitor. He had no resources and wouldn't have had the strength to to raise his game - even for a couple of hours. Therefore - he is still making progress. Also as his energy levels slowly improve so the little walks he is taking are become more regular. Which means that his muscle tone is slowly improving. Small but noticeable steps forward.
We have nothing booked for Saturday. I am ignoring all phone calls. We are going to pretend to be 'not at home' and we are going to have a very lazy day. We are both going to loiter around and linger in bed late if we wish. I wouldn't be at all surprised if I don't sleep like a log tonight, wake refreshed and get up with the thought of doing a 101 things....
Thursday, 27 September 2007
On the Way Up?
Well the increase in the Escapism pills are now well into MyMan's bloodstream. The side effects beginning to wear off. Now the Mirtazepine has been dropped MyMan's having difficulty sleeeping once again. I'm hoping that he'll slowly adjust. When he does sleep he sleeps more 'gently'. No deep earth shattering, rumbling, vibrating snoring. Surely that has to be better for him. I'm having some difficulty in adjusting too. When he is asleep; gently asleep, with no deep rumbling snorting breaths I think he's stopped breathing altogether. The only sound that disturbed the peace of the night last night was the trap catching yet another mouse. I almost picked all the traps up when I vacuumed last week. Glad I was too lazy to do so.
I didn't sleep at all after 4 a.m. It's full moon again. It shone in through the curtains as bright as day. I must get some black out linings. After tossing and turning for an hour I gave in and got up to blog and read. I wished MyMan was awake then. I could have vacuumed. I had the energy then.
We have visitors this evening. Some long standing friends are travelling from Essex to Cornwall. They intend to stop off in east Devon overnight. We are supplying supper in my vacuumed free zone. I did shift some dust from here to there but that's all.
We haven't seen them for nearly 3 years. I'm sure I'll have plenty of chat when I get going. But I'm so tired I may find it difficult to get going. They are more MM's friends. Ed was in fact MM's best man when we wed. MyMan was looking forward to seeing him again. But then he arranged a treatment for this morning. Now he is suffering and wants to do nothing more than lie abed popping painkillers. I told him that this time as they are his friends he'll have to be sociable. He should have been more thoughtful when arranging appointments. I'm into tough love at the moment. Tomorrow he can lie around and be 'palely interesting' but not tonight. Tonight, once I've provided the supper, it's my turn. I hope their B&B has a 'closed doors by 12' policy - I know I wont be any use to anyone beyond midnight.
I didn't sleep at all after 4 a.m. It's full moon again. It shone in through the curtains as bright as day. I must get some black out linings. After tossing and turning for an hour I gave in and got up to blog and read. I wished MyMan was awake then. I could have vacuumed. I had the energy then.
We have visitors this evening. Some long standing friends are travelling from Essex to Cornwall. They intend to stop off in east Devon overnight. We are supplying supper in my vacuumed free zone. I did shift some dust from here to there but that's all.
We haven't seen them for nearly 3 years. I'm sure I'll have plenty of chat when I get going. But I'm so tired I may find it difficult to get going. They are more MM's friends. Ed was in fact MM's best man when we wed. MyMan was looking forward to seeing him again. But then he arranged a treatment for this morning. Now he is suffering and wants to do nothing more than lie abed popping painkillers. I told him that this time as they are his friends he'll have to be sociable. He should have been more thoughtful when arranging appointments. I'm into tough love at the moment. Tomorrow he can lie around and be 'palely interesting' but not tonight. Tonight, once I've provided the supper, it's my turn. I hope their B&B has a 'closed doors by 12' policy - I know I wont be any use to anyone beyond midnight.
Wednesday, 19 September 2007
Carers Count
There is to be a National Carers Summit and the AGM of Carers UK held in London, at Canary Wharf on 8th November - details can be found here. This is to be an important meeting as the idea is to draw up a list of 'wants' to be included in the Govt plans - National Carers Strategy.
Now there is also the question of whether carers should be counted in the next census which is due in 2011. The census of 2001 was the first time that a question had been included to find out how many people were acting as a carer - for family member, friend or neighbour. There is some doubt as to whether this question should be included in the next census. Although the information has proved invaluable for the planning of health services, social care and respite care etc. - there is chance that the question will be dropped in 2011. All questions for the next census have to be approved by Parliament.
Carers do not get much recognition of the role they perform. It is important our Government know just how many people are helping out by providing unpaid care in the community. Often in an informal, unrecognised way.
Everyone is asked to write and request that the questions on caring for others is retained in the next Census to:
The letter to the Minister is critical as the Department of Health can fund the carer question. You could also send a copy of your letter to your own MP. If you are not sure who your MP is you can find out by inserting your postcode on this website. Just click on the link which follows: http://www.theyworkforyou.com/mp/
More information on this can be found on :
http://www.carersuk.org/Newsandcampaigns/KeepCountingCarers/QuestionsabouttheCensus
http://www.carersuk.org/Newsandcampaigns/KeepCountingCarers
http://www.carersuk.org/Newsandcampaigns/KeepCountingCarers/Whatyoucando
Now there is also the question of whether carers should be counted in the next census which is due in 2011. The census of 2001 was the first time that a question had been included to find out how many people were acting as a carer - for family member, friend or neighbour. There is some doubt as to whether this question should be included in the next census. Although the information has proved invaluable for the planning of health services, social care and respite care etc. - there is chance that the question will be dropped in 2011. All questions for the next census have to be approved by Parliament.
Carers do not get much recognition of the role they perform. It is important our Government know just how many people are helping out by providing unpaid care in the community. Often in an informal, unrecognised way.
Everyone is asked to write and request that the questions on caring for others is retained in the next Census to:
The Census Director
Office of National Statistics
Segensworth Road,
Titchfield,
Fareham
HANTS. PO15 5RR
Copying your letter to:
Karen Dunnell
National Statistician and Registrar General
Office for National Statistics
1 Drummond Gate
London SW1V 2QQ
and
Ivan Lewis MP
Minister for Carers
Department of Health
Richmond House
79 Whitehall
London SW1A 2NS.
Karen Dunnell
National Statistician and Registrar General
Office for National Statistics
1 Drummond Gate
London SW1V 2QQ
and
Ivan Lewis MP
Minister for Carers
Department of Health
Richmond House
79 Whitehall
London SW1A 2NS.
The letter to the Minister is critical as the Department of Health can fund the carer question. You could also send a copy of your letter to your own MP. If you are not sure who your MP is you can find out by inserting your postcode on this website. Just click on the link which follows: http://www.theyworkforyou.com/mp/
More information on this can be found on :
http://www.carersuk.org/Newsandcampaigns/KeepCountingCarers/QuestionsabouttheCensus
http://www.carersuk.org/Newsandcampaigns/KeepCountingCarers
http://www.carersuk.org/Newsandcampaigns/KeepCountingCarers/Whatyoucando
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Lacks Concentration
I'm once again having to check up on what MyMan is doing. He is not thinking straight. His mind is elsewhere. He checked over the car for me the other day. Windscreen wash, tyre pressures etc. Luckily I only did a short round trip to the local supermarket. When I got back home I found the radiator cap had not been replaced. It was still perched on the top of the engine where he placed it while checking the coolant levels. No harm done. But I need to keep and eye on what he is doing again. He's like a dreamy teenager.
It just goes to show how carefully I drive though. AS demonstrated by the fact hat the cap remained perched in its resting place while I was driving around these twisty, narrow Devon lanes!
It just goes to show how carefully I drive though. AS demonstrated by the fact hat the cap remained perched in its resting place while I was driving around these twisty, narrow Devon lanes!
Saturday, 15 September 2007
Turn Around Again
It's strange just how quickly things can change again. MyMan only started on the slight increase of the Esapism pills yesterday. The side effects have returned again. He has a stomach upset and feels anxious and vulnerable again. I keep reminding him he felt like this when he started the pills and the doctor told him it would return. I keep reminding him of how much better he has been. And that feeling of improvement would return once again after another week or two.
Friday, 14 September 2007
Medication
Henry was kind enough to leave his professional opinion the other day [?week] on my entry Black Dog Days in the comments section. He thought MyMan should have been on a regime of Venlafaxine and Mirtazapine.
Well that's what has been tried over the last xx months. MM was started on the Venlafaxine nearly 2 years ago. He always 'felt' it wasn't working. But if it was reduced he would become worse - so it was obviously doing something, but.... Then Mirtazipine was added earlier this year. He had a bad reaction to that so had to be reduced to lower dose. However, it did help somewhat with his insomnia. Now he is on something that he calls his 'Escapism' pills - an SSRI. He feels more alert brain wise and is showing some return to his normal humorous self. But it is slow and we both feel a bit disheartened when he suddenly has a Black Dog Days. But the psychiatrist could see a definite improvement before MM even had chance to speak. We were reassured that improvement isn't a steady upward process ... with no looking back. The 'escapism pills' are to be increased a wee bit and then to see what the reaction is to sleep patterns if the Mirtazapine is discontinued. If he comes off that with no return of the insomnia then the esapism pills can be increased a bit more. A period of juggling and re-adjustment to go through yet. MM has been advised to continue with the counselling sessions. If nothing else they do help back up some of my points about his being too stubborn or bloody minded [keeping pills to a bare minimum] or not being kind enough to himself [continuing to try and do everything as he used to when fitter and younger - a perfectionist]. He listens more to the counsellor than he does to me!
As it is when Black Dog revisits there are some signs that he doesn't stay around for quite so long. But attending medical appointments is guaranteed to bring one on within a few hours. The sooner we can get him sorted and reduce the number of times we have to talk to doctors about his mental and physical health, the healthier it will be for the both of us.
Well that's what has been tried over the last xx months. MM was started on the Venlafaxine nearly 2 years ago. He always 'felt' it wasn't working. But if it was reduced he would become worse - so it was obviously doing something, but.... Then Mirtazipine was added earlier this year. He had a bad reaction to that so had to be reduced to lower dose. However, it did help somewhat with his insomnia. Now he is on something that he calls his 'Escapism' pills - an SSRI. He feels more alert brain wise and is showing some return to his normal humorous self. But it is slow and we both feel a bit disheartened when he suddenly has a Black Dog Days. But the psychiatrist could see a definite improvement before MM even had chance to speak. We were reassured that improvement isn't a steady upward process ... with no looking back. The 'escapism pills' are to be increased a wee bit and then to see what the reaction is to sleep patterns if the Mirtazapine is discontinued. If he comes off that with no return of the insomnia then the esapism pills can be increased a bit more. A period of juggling and re-adjustment to go through yet. MM has been advised to continue with the counselling sessions. If nothing else they do help back up some of my points about his being too stubborn or bloody minded [keeping pills to a bare minimum] or not being kind enough to himself [continuing to try and do everything as he used to when fitter and younger - a perfectionist]. He listens more to the counsellor than he does to me!
As it is when Black Dog revisits there are some signs that he doesn't stay around for quite so long. But attending medical appointments is guaranteed to bring one on within a few hours. The sooner we can get him sorted and reduce the number of times we have to talk to doctors about his mental and physical health, the healthier it will be for the both of us.
Wednesday, 12 September 2007
Fingers Crossed
My fingers are crossed. I am hopeful. My Man is feeling more alert and positive than he has for many a long month [years]. Maybe, just maybe, these anti-depressants are having a positive effect? He has been on them now for almost 6 weeks. His sleep patterns are improving. We'll know a little more when we see the psychiatrist. Then its back to the family doctor again for the X-Ray results on spine and to see what the next step is to be - orthopaedic specialist or a rheumatologist. He usually finds all medical appointments incredibly depressing. If he manages to accomplish the next few appointments without a down turn in his mood I may well begin to believe we have reached a turning point. As it is for a few days I've not felt as if I'm walking on egg shells. Like tooth ache you are not aware of how painful it has been until the pain ceases. The feeling of relief is huge. Meanwhile my fingers are crossed.
Saturday, 8 September 2007
Meltdown
I was being very lazy today. I decided we'd eat a ready meal from the freezer. From the main freezer which resides in the garage. The fridge was entirely empty. Some fresh fruit. But no main meal. That's what the stuff in the freezer is for. Days like today. When I wake late and feel lazy. An hour before tea I go down to the freezer to make a choice and collect some frozen vegetables. Maybe a small homemade cake too, for Sunday tea.
As soon as I opened the door and picked up the first packet my mind registered that it felt 'soft'. Then I realised it didn't feel cold either - not one bit. It's an old freezer so I assumed it had 'died' on me. Then I saw the push in button was not IN for ON. It was OUT for OFF. Nothing for it, it all had to be binned. The bin men may get a hernia just trying to lift the bin next week.
I reckon that MyMan when he was trying to help me last weekend inadvertently knocked the button. He'd been down in the garage sorting out little maintenance jobs on my car. Windscreen wash and such. He'd also tidied some things high on top of the freezer. But as he struggles to move the slightest thing I think he must have leaned heavily against it. He has been very forgetful and inattentive for the last 4 weeks. Often, in a world of his own, he doesn't notice if he leaves a trail of minor havoc after him. I've been tired and down so have not been keeping an eye on what he's up to.
After clearing, drying and cleaning out the freezer; getting it all fired up again there was still no meal. I had to drive over to Waitrose for some salad and a Pizza for tea. That will teach me not to be lazy. Not to lie in bed late rather than going out early to the shops. As it is I've now I'll have to get on and re-stock it.
On the negative side - I've just lost all the plums I froze down a couple of weeks ago. And my last batch baked fruit cakes and cherry cakes. On the positive side: I now have room to freeze down some of the apples which are falling off the trees left right and centre. I'll also have room for a good baking session again. That will be good, I find baking really therapeutic.
As soon as I opened the door and picked up the first packet my mind registered that it felt 'soft'. Then I realised it didn't feel cold either - not one bit. It's an old freezer so I assumed it had 'died' on me. Then I saw the push in button was not IN for ON. It was OUT for OFF. Nothing for it, it all had to be binned. The bin men may get a hernia just trying to lift the bin next week.
I reckon that MyMan when he was trying to help me last weekend inadvertently knocked the button. He'd been down in the garage sorting out little maintenance jobs on my car. Windscreen wash and such. He'd also tidied some things high on top of the freezer. But as he struggles to move the slightest thing I think he must have leaned heavily against it. He has been very forgetful and inattentive for the last 4 weeks. Often, in a world of his own, he doesn't notice if he leaves a trail of minor havoc after him. I've been tired and down so have not been keeping an eye on what he's up to.
After clearing, drying and cleaning out the freezer; getting it all fired up again there was still no meal. I had to drive over to Waitrose for some salad and a Pizza for tea. That will teach me not to be lazy. Not to lie in bed late rather than going out early to the shops. As it is I've now I'll have to get on and re-stock it.
On the negative side - I've just lost all the plums I froze down a couple of weeks ago. And my last batch baked fruit cakes and cherry cakes. On the positive side: I now have room to freeze down some of the apples which are falling off the trees left right and centre. I'll also have room for a good baking session again. That will be good, I find baking really therapeutic.
Thursday, 6 September 2007
Gloves Off
for the next round! That's what it feels like sometimes. The Sunday Tea Party went reasonably well. I was an attentive hostess but I felt distracted. MyMan wanted to help share the hosting duties. We agreed he would pass the tea cups around. I remember exactly how different peole like their tea. From black and very, very strong to one that is weak as water with a very small dash of tea and milk. Except MyMan disappeared when I was making the tea. He seemed to not want to stay with our guests unless I was in the room. Then when it came to handing around the tea he forgot our arrangement. Never mind we muddled through. Friends said it was good to see him brighter and happier. So that's good then!
Monday we had a few disagreements and minor niggles. I returned to the subject of wishing to have a dog or to plan for a dog in our lives again at some point in the near future. If only he had held out the promise of 'maybe, at some time, but not yet' I would have agreed. But it was the definite 'no we can't cope' and 'you're not being realistic' that fired me up. He is definitely against the idea. He said we'd need to move to premises more suited for a dog. He doesn't like this house and wants to return to a more rural existence. So I go to the estate agents and come home with several house details. But he has no energy to even consider making a move at all in the near future. We also know that our next move should be more in line with a move towards town, in readiness for our older age, rather than further out into the country. But if I can't have a dog until we have moved to somewhere more suitable; then a house move may be on the cards sooner than MyMan thinks. Either that or we go for his and her homes: "My Wife Next Door".
As it is - while My Man was out at his counselling session I played Westlife's "Allow Me to be Frank" - very loudly. And I danced, pranced, foxtrotted and quick stepped around the whole place for half an hour pretending I was Ginger Rogers. Today I ache in every joint and am pleased that I've not to go around clearing dog/cat fur off the furniture or dragging my aching legs around the woods behind a gambolling dog.
Monday we had a few disagreements and minor niggles. I returned to the subject of wishing to have a dog or to plan for a dog in our lives again at some point in the near future. If only he had held out the promise of 'maybe, at some time, but not yet' I would have agreed. But it was the definite 'no we can't cope' and 'you're not being realistic' that fired me up. He is definitely against the idea. He said we'd need to move to premises more suited for a dog. He doesn't like this house and wants to return to a more rural existence. So I go to the estate agents and come home with several house details. But he has no energy to even consider making a move at all in the near future. We also know that our next move should be more in line with a move towards town, in readiness for our older age, rather than further out into the country. But if I can't have a dog until we have moved to somewhere more suitable; then a house move may be on the cards sooner than MyMan thinks. Either that or we go for his and her homes: "My Wife Next Door".
As it is - while My Man was out at his counselling session I played Westlife's "Allow Me to be Frank" - very loudly. And I danced, pranced, foxtrotted and quick stepped around the whole place for half an hour pretending I was Ginger Rogers. Today I ache in every joint and am pleased that I've not to go around clearing dog/cat fur off the furniture or dragging my aching legs around the woods behind a gambolling dog.
Sunday, 2 September 2007
Black Dog Days
We have a small tea party this afternoon. MyMan felt that as we had not entertained for a few months)that we should invite our close friends around. I thought I would keep it short and sweet. Afternoon tea seems suitably 'old fashioned and genteel'. Not too demanding on time if MyMan doesn't feel up to coping with being sociable for several hours. He seemed very quiet and withdrawn again this morning. I've been making savouries, sandwiches and cakes. I asked him at lunchtime 'are you OK?'. No, he's not. He told me he suddenly has the 'Black Dog Visiting' again. Everybody is looking forward to seeing him. I'm not sure how he'll cope. Maybe some gossip and news, old friends, easy conversation will lift his mood a fraction. Or he will act bright, breezy and the 'joker in the pack' but retreat straight back into his dark mood once they've gone: exhausted by his effort. It's at this point before people arrive that I wonder whether the effort is worth it for either of us.
Thursday, 30 August 2007
The Treadmills of My Mind
It's now 4.20 am. there is a bright full moon lighting the garden as bright as day. I am unable to sleep. I've been tossing and turning for a couple of hours. My mind also has tossed everything around. Thinking, considering and trying to work out what is the best course of action: regrets: worries: anxieties. All have been tossed and marinaded into one thick broth.Following the appointment with the Thyroid specialist 10 days ago, MyMan has been worse. An increase in physical aches and pains. All as a result of attending a hospital appointment.
Also he is still recovering from the 2 week break I took in May. The extra tasks that he had to do to fully care for himself along with a couple of minor DIY jobs took their toll on muscles, ligaments and tendons. Physically he is worse now than he's ever been. It's very hard to not think there is some unidentified physical illness that has yet to be diagnosed. MyMan believes it is all as a result of the accident and the low thyroid. But I am now contemplating M.E and Fibromylgia. I am wondering whether to go and see the doctor and talk it over with him. Would PTSD give him such visible physical symptoms? I'm not sure. But as he's been so weak I haven't yet had the spare time to carry out any research. As it is My Man is now having to wear supports with occasional ice packs on both wrists. He yelps with pain from just trying to get himself a cup of coffee. He also winces when I give him a hug. His chest muscles hurt. The more restricted he is physically the more difficult it becomes to prevent a deeper descent into the depression.
3 Beautiful Things
- Coming face to face with a young chick Robin while weeding under a shrub
- A bowl of Cornish raspberries with thick yellow Devon cream
- A bright moon lit garden full of dark mysterious shadows.