Hard times

I'm struggling today, feeling very emotional. I'm physically exhausted and emotionally weary,  and I'm sick of being in hospital. It's not quite two weeks since I came in this time - though I've a way to go yet until I'm well enough to be discharged - but I had only been out of hospital for two weeks after a three week admission, and I never did get properly better between times. It takes its toll.

The week after I got out of hospital last time I had various blood tests done at the GP surgery, some of the results of which I'm still waiting. One result I did get was my haemoglobin (Hb) level, which was a surprisingly healthy 136, but since coming into hospital again this has fallen to an anaemic level of 95. This is quite a drop in a relatively short time, but not terribly surprising as, for some reason, I have had/been having a gastrointestinal bleed. There was one day last week - I think it was Thursday or Friday - when it was pretty bad and the doctor was quite concerned, but it has eased off now, so while it hasn't completely stopped it isn't as bad as it was. They had been thinking that I'd need an endoscopy or sigmoidoscopy as soon as I'm off the aminophylline, but today the doctor said that so long as there are no more bigger bleeds then it can probably wait until I'm back in Newcastle. That's fine by me, but the anaemia won't be helping my energy levels or my ability to cope emotionally.

For all that I'm away from home, it's good that I'm in Edinburgh and close to Mum and J. It makes a difference having them around. That said, I feel a long way from my friends in Newcastle and the support they give me. Yes, I'm in contact with them via Facebook and some of them text me or send me private messages through Facebook, but it's not the same. I know that Mum feels the pressure too, not that she in any way begrudges me the visits or the time, but she's not young any more and doesn't have the energy she used to. While I'm in here she's having to make all my food for me too because the hospital can't cater for me with all my allergies, and again she doesn't begrudge
me the time and effort, but it is a lot of work for her. I worry about her getting worn out.

Yes, today everything is getting on top of me and I just want to cry. Occasionally a few tears escape, but my lungs don't yet feel stable enough for me to really let go...then there's also the lack of privacy. I'm in a bay with three others. They're nice enough, but I don't really want an audience for my upset. I want to get out of here. I want some energy and some mental strength too. I want to be better.

Review of the year 2015

It's far too long since I last posted, and I left you all in a bit of limbo.  Sorry about that.  I'll come back to what happened with the rest of my Cambridge admission, and some of what has happened since, but it's a bit complicated to integrate into this post.

2015 was a difficult year in many, many ways with an awful lot of ill-health, but I will let my Review of the Year questions tell a bit more of the story - the ups and downs...

1. What has been your biggest achievement this year?
Probably getting onto the Patient Input Platform (PIP) for the RASP (UK) study into severe asthma.  I was asked to apply for a position on the PIP, but there was definitely no guarantee that I was would be successful and still had to fill in the application form (2000 words required) and be interviewed by someone from Asthma UK and someone already on the PIP.

2. What made you laugh most this year?
I think it was during a day of geocaching that I had with a my friend Ruth up at Bamburgh and Holy Island.  We had lots of fun and a huge amount of silliness, especially when it came to finding our last cache of the day, 'Cache and 'Tache' 

The biggest laughs were as we kept the 'taches on and made our way back to the car, but ended up causing some passers-by to stop their car and chat to us because they were laughing at us so much.

3. What unfulfilled hopes do you have for the past year?
I hardly wrote anything during 2015, either on my blog or otherwise, and I had been hoping to write a fair bit for both my book about my asthma and also my children's book.  I know this is a direct result of how difficult the year has been so I'm trying not to be too disappointed in myself.

4. What has been your favourite/most listened to piece of music this year?
There's a Peter, Paul, and Mary song we do at choir (Flotsam) called 'Jane Jane' that I absolutely love singing.  I particularly love the arrangement that we do (arranged by the MD, Andrew Scott - Scottee), but I have listened to the original version a lot too.

I have also listened to a lot of Bellowhead CDs both in the car and at home.  They're so enlivening, and I've needed a lot of that this past year.

5. What was your best holiday this year?
Well, as you know, my holiday didn't go as planned, but I did have an absolutely fantastic time in Wales before it all turned disastrous in Cambridge, so I will answer this with the Welsh part of my holiday.

6. What new skill, if any, have you acquired this year?
I don't think that I've actually acquired a new skill this year, but I have developed my crocheting skills, and crochet, of course, was my new skill for 2014.

7. What's the best book you've read this year?
My answer to this goes hand in hand with my answer to question two.  One of the things I need to be able to do to write is to be able to read, but I've hardly been able to read at all this year either.  My concentration for reading has been shot this year, partly because of events - particularly those early in the year - but also because of illness.  My diabetes has developed a lot over the past several months and has made me feel terrible, as well as affecting concentration.  Anyway, as a consequence, for the first time probably in my entire life, I have only read one book this year, and that book wasn't at all taxing.  It was Danny Wallace's 'Random Acts of Kindness'.  I am ashamed of this awful tally, although I know that like the writing, it is a symptom of my state of mind.  I am currently trying to adhere to a kind of reading programme agreed with my psychologist so that I can read a book that she is keen for me to read.  I am looking forward to being able to read again.

8. What has been the biggest challenge of this year?
My health.  It is always a challenge, but there have been more challenges this year, particularly with the development/worsening/instability of my diabetes.  I have also had a huge number of infections that have required something like thirteen or fourteen courses of antibiotics throughout the year.

9. What is your happiest/fondest memory of this year?
I have two that are of particular note.  The first was a moment with my younger brother, C, that I can't fully explain.  It was in the couple of days I had in Cambridgeshire after my Addenbrooke's hospital admission, and in my brother's back garden.  I can't really describe the moment adequately, but it was a moment of closeness with him ... a unity and togetherness.

The second happy memory was an afternoon I had a couple of weeks ago with my nephews O and D.  My brother, M, and his two children were visiting from London, primarily so that M could sort a few things around Dad's will/belongings.  He only had one full day to do this so I offered to look after the boys for the afternoon on that day.  I took them first to Vincenzos for lunch - they're big fans of pizza and have been to Vincenzos lots of time before with me and my brother, and in the past with Dad too.  After that we went to the Centre for Life where they had a brilliant time for the next four hours!  I hardly ever get to have my nephews to myself like this so it was a very special day for me, and I know that the boys enjoyed it too.  M had given O their emergency mobile so he could call if anything went wrong with me (health wise), and also if he just wanted to call.  O decided he did want to call his daddy while we sitting in the planetarium just so he could tell him what an excellent time he was having, and that he was very excited that he was about to watch a film about something called Hubble 25.  I had explained that Hubble is a big telescope and camera in space and it's been up there for 25 years, all of which really grabbed O's interest.

10. Of what one creation of the past year are you most proud or pleased?
Hmm, this is tricky as I've made a few things that I've been really pleased with, but I guess one of the things that I was very pleased with was a Christmas present I made for my friend R - some planter labels I painted on small wooden spoons.

This isn't the best photo, but it's the only photo I have of them, and it was taken before they were varnished.  Mind you, the varnish was satin so it didn't make them particularly shiny.  It was more for protection of the paint than anything else.

11. What new hobby did you take up/old hobby did you reinstate this year?
I don't think I did take up a new hobby this year, and I didn't really reinstate an old hobby either.  However, there was quite a time over the summer and early autumn that I didn't do much crochet other than the blanket I've been working.  I started a 3-6-5 blanket on 1st January 2015, doing one hexagon a day every day of the year.  With times in hospital and other times of being ill at home I got very, very behind at points, and although I eventually managed to catch up with making the hexagons it took me until sometime in October (I think) to catch up with attaching all those hexagons onto the blanket.  I did manage to catch up, and I actually finished making and attaching the last hexagon at 11.30pm on 31st December 2015, and that was including the few extra hexagons that I had to do to make the blanket a finished shape.  I've spent a fair bit of today working on the border/edging of the blanket, but think I ought to finish it completely over the weekend :)

12. What one thing would you really like to do next year?
There are a few things I can answer to this.  First, I'd like to write more ... write something.  Second, I'd like to lose weight and get a bit fitter.  Third, I'd like to get a haircut with a new style.  The third one is most immediately achievable, and I'm planning on making an appointment at the hairdressers for next week.

13. What was the saddest thing this year?
This is an easy one to answer.  The death of my dad, and then this so immediately followed by my precious Isobel Artemis going missing and never returning.

14. What has been your best discovery of this year?
Two things - the beauty of the part of Wales that I went to in September.  I hadn't been to Wales since I was a child, and never to the southern part of West Wales that I went to this year.  I fell in love with that part of Wales, and it was a brilliant discovery.

The other excellent discovery of this year was a recipe for barbecue sauce that I can have (providing I use a Becky-friendly balsamic vinegar, which isn't easy to come by).  Oh, and this Becky-friendly barbecue sauce goes amazingly with the unlikely deliciousness that is barbecued gem lettuces.  Try them, they're amazing, and make lettuce into something that's actually exciting!

15. What news story of this year has had the biggest impact on you/do you most remember?
Gosh, there have been so many terrible things in the news this year, but I think it's probably been the European refugee crisis, and also the African Ebola crisis.  Both are/have been truly awful, and the migration/refugee situation shows no sign of abating.  I have also been appalled by the UK government's response.

16. What's the best film you've seen this year?
I've only been to the cinema twice this year.  The first time was just a few weeks ago when I tried to go and see 'The Lady in the Van', but it was sold out so ended up seeing 'Brooklyn' instead.  The second film I went to was a couple of days ago when I went to see 'Carol' with my mum and step-dad when I was up with them for Christmas. 'Brooklyn' and 'Carol' are very different films and difficult to compare, but perhaps 'Carol' just pips the other to the post.  Not sure.

17. What was your best buy this year?
No hesitation at all in answering this.  By far my best buy was my gorgeous and delightful kitten Katinka Manjulika.

She is gorgeous, nutty, and has brought me so many smiles and huge laughter.  My precious girl.

18. What has been your best day out this year?
I think probably the day out I mentioned before with my friend Ruth when we went geocaching up at Bamburgh and Holy Island.  It was a day of great fun, great friendship, great weather, great laughter, great silliness, and of pushing myself to do more than I would on my own.

19. If there's one thing you did this year that you'd do differently if you could, what would it be?
I've thought about this, and I'm not sure there's anything major major major that I would do differently, but to put a bit of a spin on the question, if I could have fallen differently on 30th July when I fell in the park whilst trying to show some young friends what fun geocaching could be then I would.  I would have fallen so that I just fell and got muddy rather than fallen and torn my ACL and MCL (in layman's terms, I badly hurt my knee), with which I'm still having problems and for which I'm still having physio.

20. Is there anywhere you'd like to visit next year?
I'd like to go back to Cambridge and not end up in hospital.  I'd like to see my brother C and his family again while I'm down there, catch up with some other friends who live in that direction, and also meet up with my older godson who's now at university in Cambridge.

21. Name one thing that you did this year that you'd like to do again?
I'd love to have my nephews for the day again.  I'd love to take them out somewhere else, perhaps for the full day, doing other fun things, and have another day on my own with those gorgeous boys.  I love being an aunty.

22. Who gave you the best advice this year?
Oh gosh, I don't know.  It was probably my psychologist who is great at giving advice.  Maybe it will turn out to have been the kind of reading programme I'm meant to be doing and before long I'll be back to being able to read.

23. What new skill would you like to acquire next year?
I think I want to learn to knit.  I love crochet, but you can do different things with knitting and I'd like to be able to do those different things.  I've bought a book from which I'm hoping to learn, and it's in the same series as the book from which I learnt to crochet, so I'm hoping it will work for me.  I have lots and lots of yarn, so the only thing stopping me from starting to learn now is the fact that I don't yet own any knitting needles.  Quite a stumbling block, come to think of it.  I'll have to do something about that in the next little while.

24. What was your favourite TV/radio programme this year?
Okay, this is where I have to confess to my guilty secret of the latter part of the year ... Hawaii Five-0.  It's much more violent than most things I watch, but it is also complete escapism, in part because they always catch the bad guy in the end.  Most of the time it takes itself a bit too seriously, but there are times when that slips and you see it almost mocking itself.  I've been watching all the episodes from all the modern series and loving them!  Also, the theme music is fabulous!

25. What would you like to make more time for next year?
Probably writing.  And reading.  I need to be able to write.  I desperately want to be able to write, and not just my blog, but the other things that I wish I'd been able to write last year.

I think I also need to make more time for time with friends.  I have seen friends this last year, definitely, but there have been great swathes of time when I haven't seen many friends, mainly because I've felt so poorly so much of the time and haven't had the energy to go out and meet up with folk.  And leading on from that, or perhaps incorporating it, I need to make more time for church.  Again, I haven't got there much over the past year because I've felt so ill so much of the time, so I'm hoping to be able to get back to church, and because many of my friends also go to church I will see them more too.

26. What has been the biggest disappointment this year?
Hmmm...this is a tricky one to answer.  I know what the answer is, but I'm not sure it's something I want to put into the public domain.  Let me see ... I guess it's the way a particular relationship turned out.

27. What was the best or most enjoyable concert you went to this year?
I went to two concerts of particular note.  The first was The Proclaimers, which was excellent, but it's the second that gets my vote for the best and that was Bellowhead.  They are the most excellent band who I have always loved seeing live.  They fill the place, whatever the place, with joy, and I have always come out of their gigs feeling, 'This is what living is about!'  Extremely sadly they are disbanding after something like thirteen years together, so the gig I went to at the end of November will be the last of their gigs that I ever go to, but it was absolutely fantabulously brilliant with dancing not just in the seats, not just in the aisles, but dancing around the aisles - folk doing the conga around the auditorium.  Such a brilliant atmosphere, and all the guys and gals on stage obviously loving it too.  As my seat (or rather, wheelchair space) was on the far side of the auditorium from the exit I had to wait until most folk had left before I could cross the auditorium to go.  However, while I waited for people to leave I noticed that a couple of the band members had come back onto the stage to clear away their things, so I took the opportunity to trundle over and ask if they'd sign the CD I'd bought in the interval.  They were lovely, friendly, chatty, full of the joy of the gig, and had no qualms at all about signing my CD :D

28. What do you think was the best thing you did for yourself during the last year?
To be a cryptic, I allowed myself to be honest with myself about something that has been surprisingly liberating.

Something completely different and about which I have no need to be cryptic, getting Katinka was definitely a brilliant thing to do for myself.  I know some folk have reservations about me having a cat because of my lungs, but sod it, I'm ill without a cat so I may as well be ill with a cat.  And most importantly, Katinka has brought back my smile and she gives me so much joy.  I was completely miserable after Dad died and Isobel went missing, and ever so lonely.  Katinka has renewed a life in me that was fizzling out and I love her to bits.

29. What is the biggest difference in yourself from this time last year?
Hmm, I'm not sure that I am terribly different in any very significant way ... unless I refer to my cryptic answer to number 28, and that's not actually a difference...

30. What are you most looking forward to about next year?
Having fairly recently been started on insulin for my steroid induced diabetes, I am looking forward to feeling significantly better than I have for quite some time.  After a steady and steep progression in my diabetes, and several times ending up needing to go to A&E with very high blood glucose levels, my GP referred me to the diabetes centre at one of the city's hospitals.  It took several weeks for the referral to come through and for the appointment date to arrive, but once I got to see the consultant I was very impressed, and have continued to be extremely impressed with the service the diabetes nurses provide.  They are gradually titrating up my insulin dose (currently on 18 units of biphasic insulin) and I am in very regular contact with the diabetes nurses while they do this.  I will be seeing the consultant again in three months, by which time I'm hoping to be feeling a huge improvement.  I'm already feeling a lot better than I was, and it's only as I begin to feel this improvement that I realise quite how utterly dreadful I had been feeling the entire time before, so roll on the rest of the improvement!  I can't wait!

Review of 2014

*peeps around the corner*
*whispers* Hello... I'm still here... I've been a bit busy... Sorry about that.  I'm back now, and I intend on being more productive here this year.  In the meantime, seeing as I'm here, I'm going to do my annual review of the year, but seeing as there's not a lot of point in reviewing this year, with only being three days into it, I'll do the more typical thing of reviewing the year that was, using the same questions I set for my previous Review of the Year.

1. What has been your biggest achievement this year?

Probably gaining a position as a lay reviewer for Asthma UK.  This is a new thing for me, only gaining it three or four weeks ago.  I was one of many applicants throughout the country for about five lay reviewer positions, and went through a process of application form, short-listing, telephone interview, and selection.  I was greatly surprised and hugely delighted to be successful, and I'm looking forward to getting started in a few weeks time.  It's a voluntary position that I can do from home, will involve a lot of reading, and some teleconferencing.  As a lay reviewer I'll be on a panel of other lay reviewers, scientist, and medics, who will collectively decide which of the many research proposals put forward to Asthma UK are granted funded from the charity.  It means a lot to me to have got this position, because it means that finally my experience and knowledge of asthma will be put to good use, and has potential to be a part of something that changes and develops treatment and management of the disease.
2. What made you laugh most this year?

Hmm, I always seem to have trouble with this one.  It's not that I don't laugh through the year, it's that I have trouble remembering what the hilarity was about.  Let me think...I know that I've had some very silly conversations with my mum through the year that caused us both a lot of laughter.  Again, I can't remember what these times were about, but most likely they were plays on words that probably ended up being a bit rude ;)

3. What unfulfilled hopes do you have for this past year?

Writing.  I didn't get much done at all this past year, which my blog reflects with only four posts for 2014.  I'm sorry about that, but I'm mostly sorry that I haven't been in an emotional place where writing has felt very possible.  I'm still emerging from the horrible thing that 2013 was, but I'm a great deal better than I was this time last year, and I'm hopeful that I will be able to write this year.
4. What has been your favourite/most listened to piece of music this year?

I have an eclectic taste in music, my listening has reflected that, but certainly at the back end of 2014 I listened a lot to the Peter, Paul, and Mary track 'Jane Jane'.  It's a piece I first sang as a teenager with the Swing Bridge Singers, and which I've been singing again this autumn and winter with my current choir, Flotsam.  I love it, particularly the arrangement we do by Scottee (MD of both Swing Bridge Singers and Flotsam).
5. What was your best holiday this year?

I had a few trips up to Edinburgh through the year, but my only real holiday was a family holiday to Shropshire in May for my mum and step-dad's seventieth birthdays.  It was very lovely, and great to spend time with all the family.
6. What new skill, if any, have you acquired this year?

Crochet!  I had decided that this was something I really wanted to learn in 2014, and then in February/March my friend Ruth said she also wanted to learn.  Ruth had a couple of months off work recovering from surgery so we got together during that time and taught ourselves to crochet from a fab little book I'd bought. We learnt all the basics together and then went our separate ways with it, and now I'll give almost anything a go.  I am completely addicted and find it very relaxing.
7. What's the best book you've read this year?

I think probably 'The Music Room' by William Fiennes, which I was given for my birthday.
8. What has been the biggest challenge of this year?

Emotionally surviving.  There has been a lot of stress and unhappiness in the last twelve months, with several deaths, and a number of very difficult situations.
9. What is your happiest/fondest memory of this year?

Hmm, despite the upsets and difficulties of the year, there have also been many good things.  I have lots of lovely memories of times with friends and times with family, especially my nephews.
10. Of what one creation of the past year are you most proud or pleased?

Probably some of my crochet creations, and probably one of these:

11. What new hobby did you take up/old hobby did you reinstate this year?

I took up two hobbies this year, one I've already talked about - crochet; the other is geocaching, which is basically an on-going international treasure hunt using GPS.  I love that it gets me out and about, discovering new places (even locally), rediscovering old places, even just going to places I usually go to but looking at it a different way because I'm on the hunt for the 'treasure' - the cache.  I've also enjoyed setting a couple of caches myself and making some new friends too.
12. What one thing would you really like to do next year?

I'd like to write.  I'd like to make good progress with my book.  I'd like to crochet some warm hats, scarves, and gloves/mittens for homeless folk.  I'd like to find all the mulitcaches in the city centre.  Lots of things, not just one thing.
13. What was the saddest thing of this year?

Oh, lots of death at the beginning of the year.  It started with the death of a friend of twenty-five years and more in January, then the tragic and unexpected death of one of my cousins at the beginning of April, and nine days later the death of my gorgeous and ever-characterful cat Zachariah Zebedee.
14. What has been your best discovery of this year?

In a very literal way, I was delighted to discover a particularly tricky geocache at East Cramlington Nature Reserve, in fact it was the first one I went hunting for there and it took me at least 25 minutes to locate it.
15. What news story of this year has had the biggest impact on you/do you most remember?

Gosh, there have been so many terrible things in the news ... I think the bleakness and such widespread impact of the Ebola crisis in Western Africa has been just terrible...still is terrible. 16. What's the best film you've seen this year?

I didn't see many films at the cinema this/last year, but I did see 'What We Did On Our Holiday' and absolutely loved it.
17. What was your best buy this year?

Isobel! My gorgeous kitten.  Strictly speaking I didn't buy her because she was bought for me by some beautifully-hearted friends, but I think she still counts for this question.  Here she is lying on my legs last night.

18. What has been your best day out this year?

You know what, I've had many good days out this year, a lot of them doing geocaching.  I had a fabulous day with my new friends Helen and Carrie doing geocaching in the Tyne Valley, and another in Chopwell Woods.  I had a great day geocaching up near Morpeth with my friend Ruth too.  However, I think all the fabulous days I've had geocaching are just about pipped by a day with my dad at Rising Sun Country Park.  It was so special to spend some time with him, just the two of us, and to see him enjoying himself.
19. If there’s one thing you did this year that you’d do differently if you could, what would it be?

I'm not sure ... There was something that came up in my therapy sessions with my psychologist that caused me a great deal of stress as it looked as though some old demons might be forced to the fore.  I had several weeks of stressful uncertainty, and perhaps I would approach things differently if I were to go through that again ... but I'm not sure that I would have any choice in the matter, as I don't think I really did this time.  Difficult.
20. Is there anywhere you'd like to visit next year?

Um, possibly Derbyshire.  I spent a few nights in Derbyshire at the end of my Dorset holiday in 2013, but there's a lot of it to see and I wasn't there long enough to see very much of it.  Also, the triceratops hat I made (shown in one of the photos above) is for the young son of a friend in Derbyshire so it would be lovely to give that to them myself.  I would also like to visit my brother and family who are in Cambridgeshire, especially as they gave me identical twin nieces as an early Christmas present at the end of November.

21. Name one thing you did this year that you'd like to do again?

Take Dad for another day out.  It's not easy with my limited mobility and Dad's own disabilities, but we did manage it a couple of times in 2014, and I think if I find the right places to go, it should be possible again.
22. Who gave you the best advice this year?

Probably my psychologist.  She's helped me through a huge amount of stress, difficulties, and upsets through the year, and at times that's included giving advice for management and survival between appointments.
23. What new skill would you like to acquire next year?

I might like to try Tunisian crochet, which is sort of an extension of crochet knowledge, whilst also being a new skill itself.
24. What was your favourite TV/radio programme this year?

Oo, there's been quite a lot of good telly this year.  I really enjoyed 'The Wrong Mans', and then there was ... oh, what's it called? It was set in Yorkshire and had what'shername in as a police officer ... 'Happy Valley'!  Yes, 'Happy Valley' was great too.
25. What would you like to make more time for next year?

Two things - writing, and my dad.  If I am to try to write I need first to make time for it, even if I sit doing nothing for a while before I find a way back into it. As for Dad, I haven't made enough time for him in recent months, mainly because I find it so upsetting to see him in such a deteriorated state, but I'm also aware that it's the coward's response to avoid the difficult things.  I want to make the most of whatever time he has left, but I also want those times to be good.  I find it particularly difficult when I go to see him in the care home and I'm searching for something to talk about and not knowing quite what response I'll get from him, so I want to take him out.  I want to take him places I know he will enjoy, but where I can manage him too, places we can enjoy together, that just being there initiates conversation, places that will form good memories together.
26. What has been the biggest disappointment this year?

I'm not sure.  To be honest I can't immediately think of any major disappointments, except that of not writing.  I'm sure there have been things that I've missed due to illness that I was disappointed about at the time, but I can't now remember what they were.  Perhaps that's a good thing.
27. What was the best or most enjoyable concert you went to this year?

I haven't been to many concerts in the past twelve months, but I did go to a great one of music from Oscar winning films, hosted by Barry Norman.  The concert was at Sage Gateshead and I went with my friends Rachel and Marc.
28. What do you think was the best thing that you did for yourself during the last year?

Went to see my GP early when I suspected I might be developing diabetes.  I was lucky that it turned out I had Impaired Glucose Tolerance, rather than full diabetes, when I first went to the doctor, but my early action meant that it could be watched closely, so as soon as it reached a level that diabetes was diagnosed, the wheels of diabetes management/education could be put in motion. 
29. What is the biggest difference in yourself from this time last year?

I'm not as depressed as I was.  In fact, I'd say that I'm low rather than depressed, and not so low that it often causes me a great deal of distress.  I hide myself away sometimes still, which is counter productive, especially as I sometimes find myself getting lonely too...
30. What are you most looking forward to about next year?

Meeting my twin nieces, starting the Asthma UK lay reviewing, getting out and about with more geocaching, hopefully with friends.

Review of the year 2013

It's that time again when many of us take some time to look back at the year that has been.  2013 has been a difficult year for me, but I'm still going to do the annual review, so here goes...

1. What has been your biggest achievement this year?  Probably just surviving it.  It's been tough in many different ways, and there were lots of times when I really doubted that I would get through.  I'm still alive, and I reckon that's a huge achievement for this year.

2. What made you laugh most this year?  Hmm ... I've had some good laughs with friends, particularly R and M.  Other than that, probably (repeats of) the TV show 'Miranda'.  Oh, and I went to see Eddie Izzard earlier in the year too, and he was very funny.
3. What unfulfilled hopes do you have for this past year?  I really wanted to get my book about my asthma finished, but I had a long, long time this year when I wasn't able to write at all.  I've done a bit to add to it, but not enough.
4. What has been your favourite/most listened to piece of music this year?  Hmm, tricky ... Probably not one single piece of music.  I've gone back to listening to a lot of church choral music this year, maybe because I've done more singing again.  I miss taking part in that kind of music, making the music, but I do love listening to it, so I've listened to a lot of CDs of excellent church/cathedral choirs singing anthems and canticles.
5. What was your best holiday this year?  I've only had one holiday this year - when I went to Dorset, with stop-offs on the way and way back at Stratford and Derbyshire.  It was excellent, and revitalising. 
6. What new skill, if any, have you acquired this year?  I'm not sure that I have.  I'll have a think and get back to you if I come up with anything, but I'm not sure there's anything.
7. What's the best book you've read this year?  Oh gosh.  I usually read a lot, but for much of this year I found it very difficult to concentrate on reading so I've only read about eight books!  However, the best of those was probably 'Tuesdays with Morrie' by Mitch Albom.  It's a memoir based around Mitch Albom's weekly meetings with his old university professor who now, twenty years after their first meeting, is dying.  It's a moving book, with both sadness and joy, but always full of life.
8. What has been the biggest challenge of this year?  Depression and the various reasons behind it, but particularly one very difficult situation that I haven't been able to write about on my blog, but that had repercussions through many aspects of my life.  In some rather complicated ways it got kind of tangled up with physical health stuff as well as depression, but things are at last settling.
9. What is your happiest/fondest memory of this year?  Despite the year's difficulties, I've been extremely lucky to have the friends I do, and my fondest memories of this year are those of fabulous friends who have shown me such love and gentleness, often at times when I was at my lowest.
10. Of what one creation of the past year are you most proud or pleased? I'm pretty pleased with some of the writing I have managed to do for my book, maybe in part because it's been so challenging to write, but if we're thinking of more artistic creations then I guess the piece of glass that I made at a glass workshop in November.  So far as skill is concerned, there was very little in it, but I know the frame of mind I had been in the morning of that day, how insecure and incapable I'd been feeling.  I got the fired pieces back just before Christmas, and I'm really pleased with the main piece that I spent most of the workshop working on.
11. What new hobby did you take up/old hobby did you reinstate this year?  Singing.  Actually, that's not strictly true, because I helped to start up Flotsam (the choir) at the end of 2012, but I've kept at it this year, despite the hospital admissions and various health problems.  This year I also took part in the Christmas choir at church, which I haven't done for about three years.  We don't usually have a choir at the church I go to, but every year at Christmas those of us who want have six or seven rehearsals in the weeks running up to Christmas and 'perform' at the service of Nine Lessons and Carols.  It was lovely to be a part of that again.
12. What one thing would you really like to do next year?  Finish writing my book about my asthma.
13. What was the saddest thing of this year?  There has been a lot of sadness this year.  One was at the beginning of the year when my dad had to move in to a care home; another, just a few short weeks ago, was the death of my wonderful friend Caroline.
14. What has been your best discovery of this year?  Probably the company Good Wine Online who specialise in sulphite-free and low-sulphite wines.  I'm extremely allergic to sulphites and have missed having a glass of wine, because sulphite-free wines are practically impossible to find in the shops.  I was very, very lucky to be given a case of twelve bottles of wine from GWO from my brother and sister-in-law for Christmas.
15. What news story of this year has had the biggest impact on you/do you most remember?  Gosh, a year of many news stories, with many of them being of particular note.  Possibly the two international news stories that I most remember are 1) The chemical weapons attack on the children in Syria; and 2)  The gunmen's siege of the shopping centre in South Africa.  Having said that, the news of Nelson Mandela's death was also significant.  I think a lot of the news stories about freak weather events, both abroad and in the UK, have also had a big impact on me - things that no-one can prevent and have potential to affect all regardless of status or wealth.  There seem to be increasing numbers of wild weather events causing widespread devastation.
16. What's the best film you've seen this year?  Another year when I haven't seen even half of the films I've wanted to see.  I've yet to see Philomena or Gravity, both of which or on my list to see before it's too late.  Perhaps the best film I saw this year was Les Miserables.
17. What was your best buy this year?  I think that has to be my Ugg boots.  Obviously I didn't get much wear from them through the summer, but they were great through the very cold spring and excellent again now.  My mum helped me buy them, and they were at her suggestion after I got frostbite in three of my toes in my left foot in February (actually, the night I went to see Les Miserables at the cinema).  My big toe has never fully recovered, and the circulation in my feet seems to be pretty poor, but the Ugg boots certainly help to keep my feet cosy.
18. What has been your best day out this year?  I was thinking about this in bed earlier today, trying to think of days out that I've had, and you know, they've been rather few and far between this year.  I had a nice day out with my brother, Dad, and step-mum around Easter time (I think my brother came up on his own, without his wife or children).  We went to Belsay and had a walk/trundle through the quarry garden to the castle.  Other than that, the other day/part-day out that sticks out was the glass workshop I mentioned earlier.
19. If there’s one thing you did this year that you’d do differently if you could, what would it be?  There was a misunderstanding and over-reaction (on my part) that led to an argument with an online friend.  It was resolved relatively quickly with the person it was actually with, but someone else jumped in on the act and raised it again months later.  If I could change that initial argument, misunderstanding, and over-reaction, I would.
20. Is there anywhere you'd like to visit next year?  Yes, there's a place nearby that opened almost two years ago, but to which I haven't yet been and want to.  It's a sculptured landscape called Northumberlandia and is only about 20 minutes drive away so I really don't have any excuse.
21. Name one thing you did this year that you'd like to do again?  The glass workshop.  Once I let go of the mangle of stuff in my head that day, I had a wonderful time and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I know that I will do it again because I got a voucher for Christmas from my step-dad for a full day's workshop at the same place :o)
22. Who gave you the best advice this year?  My psychologist.  She's given me lots of advice, or at least helped me to find my own advice, seeing as that's how therapy kind of works.  Actually, one of the best pieces of advice she did clearly give me was to share with my friends that I was depressed.  I was distancing myself from people, from my friends, in the fear that they'd distance themselves from me if they knew that I was depressed.  S made me realise the paradox in this and helped me to question the helpfulness of my action.  She suggested I tell some of them.  I have been blessed with wonderful friends who have embraced me in my depression and loved me through it.  I know it's not easy for them, but they've stayed with me all the same.  I thank God for them, and I thank S for her advice.
23. What new skill would you like to acquire next year?  I've forgotten the scraps of crochet that I learnt last year, but I'd like to learn to do it, and this time properly.  I need to persevere with it once I've started, and really acquire it as a skill.
24. What was your favourite TV/radio programme this year?  Broadchurch  I think I missed the first episode, but I saw the second with my mum and J when they were staying with me for a couple of days.  I got completely sucked in to it and loved it.  I was ridiculously excited when I discovered that West Bay, near where I went on my holiday, was where Broadchurch was filmed.  Fab.  Can't wait for a second series.
25. What would you like to make more time for next year?  Writing.  I have lots of time.  In many ways, far too much time, but I need to make sure that I dedicate a decent amount of that time to writing.  I need to stop thinking about it and just do it.  I need to stop talking about it and just do it.  I just need to do it.
26. What has been the biggest disappointment this year?  Most of the year has been a huge disappointment, and perhaps the resurgence of depression has been one of the biggest disappointments.  Some of the causes of some of that depression have maybe been bigger disappointments, but I suppose that ultimately I've been hugely disappointed in myself.  I have lost direction and lost some of myself, and that is an enormous disappointment.
27. What was the best or most enjoyable concert you went to this year?  Nigel Kennedy He's an odd chap, but a fantastic violinist, and his concert was amazing.  A huge mix of straight baroque, jazzed up baroque, and jazz, with a big eastern European influence at times.
28. What do you think was the best thing that you did for yourself during the last year?  Stood my ground when I needed to, even though it was incredibly difficult.  I sought the help that I needed to stand my ground, and to get through the protracted aftermath of it.  It was terrible in many ways, but has also been a huge relief - a step to getting myself back.
29. What is the biggest difference in yourself from this time last year?  I'm no longer in an abusive situation and I'm finding my way through the damage that was done.
30. What are you most looking forward to about next year?  Time with friends and time with family.  It's both my mum's and step-dad's 70th birthdays next year, and between the two they're having a joint birthday week away with all the family.  There's going to be immediate family like myself, my brothers, and my step-dad's brothers, but also extended family of my step-dad's nephews and their families.  I think various people will be coming and going through the week, but there's going to be one day of particular celebration when all those who can only come for the day will join us.  I'm really looking forward to the time away and the time with family.

Christmas and all that jazz

In case you haven't noticed, it's Christmas time.  Well, it's been Christmas and now we're in that limbo time between Christmas and New Year, during which I have done a whole lot of nothing.  It's been prescribed nothingness because I've got some collapsed vertebrae (i.e. compression fractures in the spine) in my lower spine.  It's another side effect of the long-term high-dose steroids I take for my lungs.

I first had back pain in August/September, but didn't think much of it.  Then a couple of weeks ago I suddenly had excruciating pain that was making my legs feel weird - kind of tingly and achy all at once - and some weakness in left leg.  I thought maybe I'd pulled something so waiting until the next day to go to my GP, thinking that maybe a good night's sleep would help.  Only I didn't get a good night's sleep, and half way through the next day I decided that I probably should see my doc.  When I did at last see him he sent me straight up to A&E, which was rather a surprise because I hadn't thought that back pain would warrant an A&E trip.  X-rays apparently showed vertebral wedging and compressed vertebrae, and the A&E doc decided that I needed to have an urgent MRI, though thankfully not so urgent that I needed to be kept in.  It turns out that a request for an urgent MRI can take several weeks, but I got my appointment through the other day, weirdly for next Sunday at stupid o'clock in the morning.

So I've spent the majority of the festive season flat on my back dosed up on Tramadol.  Unfortunately Tramadol and alcohol are a bad combination, so I've had to skip the meds on the days I've wanted a drink, like Christmas Day.  I don't usually drink much alcohol, but I have to say that I did make an exception this Christmas, although it was spread throughout the day.

Despite essentially having a broken back, I had a lovely Christmas Day.  I've usually gone to my mum's in Edinburgh for Christmas, but this year she and my step-dad spent it with one of my brothers and his family down south, so I went to my good friends R and M.  Just to be clear, I was invited; I didn't just turn up and say, 'Hi, I'm spending the day with you, and by the way, happy Christmas' ;o)  R and M picked me up around 11am, and as previously arranged, we were all in our Christmas pyjamas for a truly comfortable Christmas Day :o)  When we arrived back at R and M's it wasn't long before we got stuck in to the enormous spread of cheese and biscuits and wine.  Mmmmmmmmm cheese.....  I think it's fair to say that we stuffed ourselves.

Once we could move again, or rather, once R could move again - about six hours later - she started on the Christmas dinner.  As my main contribution to the shared meal, I'd bought the turkey, but R did amazing things to it (nothing weird!  Just tasty things like soaking it in brine and spices for 24 hours prior to cooking, as per a Nigella recipe) to make it exceptionally tasty and succulent.  Ahh, it was delicious!  Oh yeah, we had all the usual turkey trimmings too, but it was an hour and half later that any of us were able to squeeze in a slither of my mum's Becky-friendly Christmas cake.  In fact, it probably would have been longer if time hadn't been an issue, but my taxi was due at 11pm, so it was then or never (or more likely, Boxing Day), and seeing as we hadn't opened the Baileys it seemed rude not to wash down the cake with a large glass of the creamy stuff each :o) hic!

So that's an outline of my Christmas Day.  A very relaxing day with friendship, food, alcohol, presents (yes, we had a time of presents too, obviously), chat, laughs, Doctor Who, cheese, santa hats, pyjamas, fun, and lying around on the sofa.  Yes, I'm rather afraid that I hogged one of their sofas (sorry R and M), but I was only obeying doctors' orders, and neither or them seemed to mind ... or at least, they didn't say they minded...

Anyway, Christmas Day was lovely.

I've had a very, very quiet time since then, having done very little indeed.  I've needed it to be like that, if I'm honest, although it's also a bit lonesome at times, and definitely boring.  I've caught up on some of my TiVo recordings, cuddled the cat a lot, slept a lot (thanks to the Tramadol), read a bit, tried not to think too much about most of the year that has been (although I will be doing so in the next day or two for my annual Review of the Year), and enjoyed the Christmas decorations.

My mum and step-dad are coming down to stay for a few days over New Year.  R and M are coming on New Year's Eve too :o)  It'll be another cheese fest with wine, chat, and maybe some games, but generally low-key.  I'm looking forward to seeing Mum.  For all that I had an excellent Christmas Day, I did miss Mum too.  She and J were only going to stay until Friday, but since I got my MRI appointment for Sunday, Mum's offered to stay until after that and come to it with me :o)  We won't get any results then - they'll take two to three weeks to get back to my GP (oh, and they're checking for disc, nerve, and spinal cord involvement) - but it'll still be good to have her support.

It's still early days for my back - I'm told it will take two to three months to repair itself - but the rest/lying down does seem to be helping.  Having said that, I will go completely mad if I'm not able to get up and do things soon, and I'm pretty sure it would be good for my back muscles to start having to do some work before long ... wouldn't it?  It's surprising how little information I've been given about these sorts of things actually.  Hmm.  Oh well, I guess the doc will tell me more when I go for a check up the week after next.

Well for now I think it's time I peel myself off the sofa, feed the cat, and go to bed.  The Tramadol (and nefopam and paracetamol) has really messed with my sleep pattern, but I don't care much if it means that I sleep through some of the pain.



Oh, and my blogosphere new year's resolution will be to post more often.  I've been rubbish at it this year.  Sorry.  It's been tough.

A little bit of a few things

I'm far too aware that it's far, far too long that I wrote a proper post, any post at all in fact, but particularly a proper one.  I haven't even finished showing you photos of my holiday, but it's even longer since I actually wrote anything.  Part of my absence is because I've been trying to gather myself.  This year has been tough, very tough, in many different ways.  I've shared some of the depression here, and some of the physical illness, and some of the other stresses, but there's been a fair bit that I haven't shared.  Some of it I can't talk about here, not yet anyway, but I think it's enough for the moment just to say that there's more going on behind the scenes than most are aware of.

I've needed a bit of space.  My holiday helped, but there's always a certain amount of post-holiday gathering that needs to be done to get one back in to the real world.  That can be tough when the real world has been tough.

I still have a fair amount going on - difficult things/situations  to deal with - but I'm slowly beginning to feel a bit more ... more me.  I think the start of term has helped somewhat, not that I'm a student these days, but choir (Flotsam) only runs through term time, and it just feels like there's generally a bit more structure around with other things going on.  Having said that, I did sign up for a short writing course at Newcastle University again.  It's actually a course - Memoir Writing -  that I did as a module towards my MA, but the short modules are open to the public too.  After not having my brain function in the right way for 'proper writing' almost all year, I was feeling closed up, blocked, trapped, and I thought that the short course might help to open things up again.  It did.  Six weeks of prompting, encouragement, recapping on technical aspects, etc really helped, and I wrote close to 10,000 words towards my book.  After almost a year of practically zero words, that's a huge improvement.  I hope I can keep up the momentum, but finding motivation for anything is still challenging at times.

One major difference between now and a few months ago is that I am able to look forward to things.  I was trying to keep putting things in the diary before, but mustering up a sense of excited anticipation for anything I would ordinary have looked forward to wasn't happening.  I'm a way up that hole now and can enjoy the anticipation of good things ahead.  Last weekend I went over to a friend's for chocolate fondue with a few others to help R celebrate her birthday.  I had a lovely evening with lovely people, lovely fondue, and a fun game of Apples to Apples, which I'd never heard of before.

On Tuesday a couple of us went to a local fireworks display.  Twenty to thirty minutes or so of colourful explosions filling the dark November sky really does help to blow dust from the brain - that and friendship :o)

Tomorrow afternoon I'm joining some friends for a workshop in glass work.  I'm not quite sure what it's going to involve, but I'm really looking forward to it.  The anticipation of fun with others, learning something new, something creative, making something, it's all good, and I love that I can enjoy the anticipation.

There's been some health stuff going on over the past couple of weeks.  I don't really want to discuss it at the moment because I don't have firm answers yet.  I've had various blood tests, and have another - hopefully the last for a while - on Monday, after which I'm hoping my GP will give me some of those answers.  When he does I'll tell you about it, but to be honest, I've been finding it all rather overwhelming lately and haven't wanted to think about it too much while I still don't have a truly confirmed diagnosis, even though the doctor is 90% certain of his preliminary diagnosis.

Part of the process of gathering myself has been evaluating where I'm at in a slightly more general way than just the immediate present.  For quite some time I've had ideas of possibilities for myself and my life, but they all ground to a halt when I got trapped in the great pit of depression.  In reality, the possibilities never really disappeared, but I was so far down the pit that I couldn't see the possibilities over the top of the hole.  I'm climbing out of that pit now, and every so often I get a little glimpse of things that are waiting at the top.  I've caught sight of one of those possibilities, and after failing to believe it for a while, I'm now thinking that maybe it could happen - maybe I'll get out of the pit, climb over the edge, and have those possibilities become realities.  I'm digging a foothold in to the edge of this hole to give me more of a grasp to the edge.  I'm trying to climb up and eventually out, and one of the things I've done that I'm hoping will get me out is arrange a meeting.  I have a meeting next week with one of the professors in the English department at Newcastle University to informally discuss the possibilities of doing a PhD in creative writing.  There are a lot of things around it to discuss, with funding being a major issue, and my health not being insignificant either, but it's something I want to do.  I do.  I really want to do it.  You know, even ten years ago I didn't think I was intelligent enough even to do an undergraduate degree, but I got a First class honours in my BA.  I actually started my post graduate studies during my last year of my undergraduate degree so got my Post Graduate Certificate in creative writing within a month of undergrad degree ceremony.  A year later I got my MA.  I want to go further.  I want to do a PhD, and not just for the sake of it, or to prove anything to myself or anyone else.  I want to do it because I love learning, I know what my proposal would be, I know what I want to get out of it, and there might be possibilities for me once I've done it.  The earliest I could possibly start would be next September, but I know too what I would do between now and then - the book that I've been working on for a while.  The meeting next Wednesday is one huge mass of possibilities, and the outcome of it could have a huge impact on the rest of my life, even though it's informal.

This, all of this, the possibility of a PhD, the love of education, what I get from writing, what I hope I give through writing, my music, my singing, my health, my creativity, my friends, my friendships, fireworks, games, fondue, and words, these are the things that help make up me.  These are my possibilities.  These are all important in rediscovering myself.  Gathering them all together again, back in to the pot of me, takes time because they've been spilled out and scattered in dark corners of the pit, but I'm finding them again, and I'm more hopeful that before too long I'll be standing at the top of that deep hole and shouting, 'Hello folks, I'm me again.'

I am

It's such a long time since I've blogged - too long.  Part of the reason is that when I was in hospital I didn't have my computer and found it such hard work typing out my posts with one finger on my phone.  I also had an awful lot going on, and needed a bit of space to deal with some of it ... not that I've really managed that.  However, I am now out of hospital after a five week admission and have been on holiday.

Very briefly, I had great holiday with a good balance of doing fun and interesting things and taking things gently.  I went first for three nights in Stratford-upon-Avon, then for a week in west Dorset, and finally for three nights in Derbyshire (actually it was Staffordshire, but close to the Derbyshire border and with a Derby post-code).  I'll post more about my holiday next time, but there's something else I want to talk about now.

So what I want to talk about is something that was said to me while I was in hospital.  It was said by someone who I had had some difficulties with for a few months, but whom I'd previously considered a friend, and it was said during my last hospital admission at the time when I was on the respiratory ward, but had slipped back, was having to fight hard, and was back on BiPAP.

The basic situation was that I went on to Facebook (via my phone) when I was on the respiratory ward after not having been on at all while I was in ITU and HDU.  I went in to a group of which I had been a part for a number of years and was asked by a couple of members how I was and what had happened.  I said a little of what had happened, how things had been, and that I was struggling again.  One member of the group then asked me more about what had happened so I expanded on what I had already said.  Another member of the group - the one with whom I'd had previous difficulties - suddenly exploded at me.  She said a lot of things, both in the group and in private messaging, but the most hateful and despicable thing was when she said, 'You're life is too different from mine or anyone's here to comprehend living.  You should stop trying to live.  Your existence is offensive.'  As admin of the group, she then expelled me.

I'm not repeating this here to vilify her or to gain sympathy, but rather to explore some of the issues it raises for me.

At the time this was said I had been off all antidepressants for a week.  They'd been suddenly stopped in ITU in case they had played a part in my low calcium levels and the terrible loss of muscle/neuro control.  This is not how antidepressants should be stopped in usual circumstances.  The combined consequence of this and my physical situation/illness was that I was extremely emotionally unstable and feeling very depressed.  I was also finding it unbelievably difficult to comprehend everything that had happened in the previous nine days.  I didn't think I could get through the second wave of physical fight that had hit me, and I was questioning whether or not I actually wanted to survive because to do so meant only to have to face the same situation again some time in the future.  With what was said, I was then hit with the thought that I had no right to live.  Someone I had previous trusted had declared my life unworthy, and I couldn't help but think that maybe they were right.  Maybe I shouldn't be alive.  Maybe she was right and my existence is offensive to those who live 'normal' lives.

Maybe all of us who struggle to stay alive actually have no right to life.  After all, in previous times there wouldn't have been the medical science to keep us alive.  Perhaps, according to the rules of natural selection, we should die out and let the healthy people get on with developing a super race.

I began to believe this.

I began to believe that I ought to give up trying to breathe, that I should take off the BiPAP and give in to the suffocation.

The doctors kept checking on, not knowing what had been said, what I was thinking, how I was feeling.  They kept looking worried, and the ITU Outreach team and anaesthetists kept coming to see me.  I kept doubting that I had a right to life.

But what about others I know, friends around the country with the same condition as me.  If I didn't have the right to life then neither did they ... but that's not what I believed for them.  Whether or not I should be alive, the life I have had has been made richer by my friends, including those who have regular severe asthma attacks and those with other life-threatening/life-limiting conditions.  They may not now be able to contribute to the country's economy - like myself - but they are still valid individuals, and they still positively contribute to the lives of others.  I don't often feel as though this is true for me, but I try to challenge it by looking at the evidence - the fact that I have friends.  They aren't my friends out of sympathy (that is not friendship), but I guess because I must give them something they value...

The question of the right to life goes on: where do you draw the line?  I mean, at what point is one's life considered unworthy?  Is it based on how much you cost the health service?  Or the amount of medication you need to take?  Or the number of days per year you are unable to work?  Is it based on how much of a challenge your illness/disability is to others?  If so, then who are those others - officials, medics, politicians, a public poll?  What about if you weren't born disabled/unworthy of life, but became so later on?  Should those people be 'involuntarily euthanased'?  If so, then when does that become murder?  Or does murder only apply to healthy, worthy people?

My life challenges me, so I'm not surprised that it challenges others too, but I didn't ever think that it would be considered offensive.  Obviously it does offend some ... well, it's certainly offensive to at least one.  What can I do?

For now I have made my decision: I will continue to offend that individual by continuing to exist.

I cannot apologise for my existence.  I cannot apologise for the way my ill-health challenges that individual and anyone else it has such an effect upon.  That challenge is their response, their feelings, and therefore their responsibility.  That's not to say that I'm not hurt by the belief that I have no right to life - I am, I'm deeply hurt, and I'm hurt by the timing of this being said to me - but I won't let the cruelty of one person kill me.  For now, even while I continue to have doubts about my worthiness, I will keep existing for those who outnumber that cruel individual - for my family and friends who, for whatever reason, want me to be alive.

Thankful

There are a various things going on for me at the moment, most of which I can't discuss in this public arena.  I'm afraid I'll have to be vague and just say that it continues to be a difficult time, so to counteract this, and to lighten the mood of my blog from recent months, I'm going to spend a bit of time thinking about things for which I'm thankful.


1.  Poisonous ivy

Specifically, I'm thankful for the poisonous ivy that's growing up the side of the house opposite mine at the back.  The ivy has been there for years, and other than cheering up a drab wall has been of little note, but this year it has provided a safe place for a pair of blackbirds to nest.  I live in a built up area only a couple of miles outside of the city centre, and very few houses in my immediate neighbourhood have gardens that encourage small birds, but there has been a noticeable difference in recent years.  Maybe it's the conservation work done by 'Friends' of the park down the road, or perhaps folk have been putting bird seed/food out, but over the past few years there has been a rise in the number of small birds in the area (as opposed to pigeons and sea gulls).  We've had a lone blackbird for the past two or three summers that has sat on the chimney stacks and filled the air with beautiful song.  I love blackbird song, and this year the air is rich with it because the lone male has found a young lady blackbird and the pair have nested high in the poisonous ivy opposite.  Apparently blackbirds have two or three broods a year, and my neighbourhood pair are already on to their second.  It's wonderful.  It's not often very noisy at the back, so if you're very quiet and listen carefully, you can hear the tiny chirruping of the chicks in the nest.  As the chicks have grown, the adults - particularly the male - try to entice the youngsters from the nest with a morsel of food and a short whistle of song.  With a lot of encouragement, the fledglings dare to take their first tentative flutters from the safety of their nest and soon learn to fly with confidence.  I love watching this circle of life unfold almost in front of me, and listening to the variety of beautiful blackbird song, and every so often one or other of the adults will venture in to my yard in their hunt for food.  I'm not quite sure what it is they find on the concrete or amongst the flower pots, but they always seem to go away with something in their beak.  Yes, I'm thankful for the blackbirds, and for the poisonous ivy for giving them a safe place to nest.

2.  Friends

I have some wonderful friends who have stuck by me in both difficult times and good.  They text me, phone me, come round to my flat, take me out for an afternoon, send me cards in the post and private messages on Facebook, make me cups of tea, invite me round to their homes, make me laugh, share my tears, sit with me, go with me to the coast or the park, swap a little part of themselves for a little part of myself.  At times my trust in friendship has been challenged by folk who have presented themselves as friends, but have turned out to be far from that.  Those around me now are genuine, safe, trustworthy, and true, and to know that for certain after betrayals that have been is very precious and definitely something for which I am thankful.

3.  Sunshine

It feels like a long time since we had any prolonged sunshine up here in the north-east of the country - perhaps a couple of years - but the last week or so has been beautiful.  Today has been a fair bit cooler with temperatures back down to 16-17C, but I don't mind because the forecast is for it to warm up again tomorrow and Friday.  Sunshine lightens me.  Of course it doesn't take the stresses away, it doesn't make them smaller, it doesn't make them any easier to deal with, but it does force in a smidgen of light.  The warmth of the sun entices me outside, even if it's just to the back yard, and wraps itself around me, like a hug from God.

4.  The cat and the vet

Zach is so precious to me.  He is a wonderful cat with enormous character who seems to know when I'm upset, when I'm ill, and when I need cuddles.  He also loves to come for cuddles when I'm lying on the sofa with the computer perched on my legs and tummy; he leaps up, on to my feet, clambers around the side of the laptop, sits on my chest in front of the computer screen, and purrs in my face.  Not particularly helpful for typing or seeing any of what I'm trying to do on the laptop, but his purrs are irresistible so he more often than not gets the cuddles he's demanding.  He's got his summer coat at the moment (obviously), which seems to be a great deal thinner than his winter one, and as he's aged he's lost a fair bit of muscle mass.  He's still very fit and healthy, but he'll be sixteen later this month so he's getting to be an old man and I can feel the bones of his spine when I stroke down his back.  He spends a lot more time sleeping now than he used to, although he still has a lot of crazy running around times, and he is still fantastic company.  I love Zach so very much and I'm thankful for the love and joy that I get from him.  He hasn't often needed a vet for anything very severe (only twice in his life), but even the little things they do for him make me thankful that they are there.  I had to take him last Friday because his claws needed clipping.  They'd needed to be done for a couple of weeks, but with stresses of recent times I'm afraid that they'd been somewhat forgotten about, and then on Friday he got the two innermost claws on his front paws entwined in each other when he was clawing at his scratching post.  He couldn't get them unhooked so I had to help, which wasn't easy and he was obviously distressed about the situation.  I explained to the veterinary nurse what had happened when I took him for his claw-clipping an hour later and she had the vet take a look at him.  The poor little lad has sprained one of the toes on each of his front paws, but he's okay, and after keeping a close eye on him for the past 5 days I think he's probably healed now.  So yes, I am thankful for the vet for keeping my precious little lad healthy and checking him over for free last week.

5.  My wheelchair

When I think what I used to be able to do it almost seems unreal ... it certainly feels unfair at times.  One of my brothers and his family are going camping this summer, which is something I used to love.  The last time I went camping was in 2006 when I had an amazing holiday on my own, camping my way around the country for four and a half weeks.  It was meant to be three and half weeks, but I extended it after spending a week in hospital (including ITU) in Cornwall, not letting a little thing like the inability to breathe stop me from having the holiday I'd planned.  It was fantastic, but I suspect that I'm not very likely to camp again as there's a significant lack of electric plug sockets in a tent from which to charge a powered wheelchair.  All the same, I'm thankful for my wheelchair - Noah - because it gives me other freedoms - the freedom of independence in the outside world.  Of course, there are limitations as many buildings still aren't fully accessible, and much of the countryside isn't at all wheelchair friendly, for example, but I can go out, on my own, on the bus, in to town, to the park, along many public footpaths further afield if I go out in the car. I don't have to rely on family, friends or carers to push me in an attendant-assisted wheelchair, or on my lungs for breathing to use a manual wheelchair, or on my balance (POTS) and lungs for walking.  My independence is important to me, and I'm thankful that I have access to a means to maintain that independence as much as is possible.

6.  My mind

Okay, so depression is awful, but depression isn't all that my mind has given me.  I'm thankful that I have the mind I do, because with it I can think things through, I can reason, I can consider, I can be logical, and I can be illogical.  My mind gives me choices and the capacity to make decisions;  it allows me to challenge situations and concepts; it contributes to my creativity; it helps me to recognise emotions and identify why I feel what I do when I do.  Without my mind I would not know that there are things for which to be thankful, and I wouldn't know that I am thankful for those things.

7.  God

The ultimate 'thing' for which I am thankful is God.  Without Him I would not have my mind, my thankfulness, my being, or anything else which deserves thanks.  I thank God for God.

The pit and the monster

I think I've said before how, some time ago, I came to the understanding that depression is a monster that tells you lies.  I've used this analogy a lot in my psychology sessions, and it's come to represent depression itself as a beast.  I've described the experience of depression probably as many others have done - like being in a deep pit.  Whilst it's quite an easy and obvious metaphor, it's also quite useful, because emerging from depression isn't usually (unlike my previous miraculous experience) a change that happens in an instant.  Rather, there is a slow recovery, a gradual relief that can be difficult to see happening whilst you're in the experience.  Using the analogy of the pit kind of gives a scale to the depression ... it means you can sort of describe how far down or up the pit you are; whether or not there are any signs of life in the soil or above the hole; whether or not you can see light at the top of the pit; how muddy the pit is and whether or not it's sucking you down further; and whether or not there's anything around that you can use to get out of the pit.  I also imagine that the vicious beast - monster - of depression lives at the bottom of the pit, and the closer I am to the bottom, the louder and more numerous are the lies it is telling me about myself.

I was talking with my psychologist again during the last session about where in the pit I see myself as being at the moment.  A couple of weeks ago, when I wrote Away with it, I/we thought that I was maybe half way up - things were still very difficult, but there was a bit of light at the top of the pit, and perhaps there was a worm (a sign of life) wiggling a little way out of a hole in the side of the pit.  Talking in the last session, I said that I felt that I'd sunk a bit.  I'm not on the bottom, like I was when at my worst point, but there was no sign of any worms for company, no signs of external life.

I often talk with my psychologist about the things that make me sink in to the pit, how I ended up there, etc, but my homework this week is to think about those things that have perhaps helped me to get off the bottom of the pit; the things that have helped me to ignore/challenge/not listen to the lies the monster tell me; the things that helped me to get as far up the pit as I managed to get before slipping back.  It was suggested that perhaps I might write my thoughts about these things on my blog, and before the end of the session I'd decided that yes, I'd write about it here because, after all, I've shared with my blog readers much of my depression experience.  This might take me a while because I haven't actually thought about it a great deal since my psychology session on Friday as my mum's been staying with me over the weekend.  What follows will very much be me thinking out loud, so if it doesn't make a great deal of sense, that's why.

So, Things that have helped me so far in surviving/recovering from depression:

1.  My psychologist and the sessions with her

S has been a constant for me during all of the distress.  I have felt able to talk to her about anything and everything, sharing my darkest and most frightening thoughts, the true extent of my desperation.  I've cried a thousand tears in front of her, broken down in uncontrollable sobs, and known that I've been safe to do so.  I've trusted S with the most vulnerable and broken pieces of myself and known that none of it would be turned around and used against me (this is in contrast to someone else in an on-going situation, so has been a very pertinent point, and a significant trust).  Unlike the multiple faces of the Crisis Assessment and Treatment Team (CATT), and the unreliable presence of the CPN, S has been there throughout without sessions being cancelled or postponed, and she is one person with whom I haven't continually had to relate the origins of my distress.  Yes, S has been, and remains, vital in this process of defeating the beast and finding a way out of the pit.

2.  Friends

I was terribly afraid of telling my friends that I was in the bottom of the pit and being devoured by the monster (and that's not how I put it to them when I did tell them).  I was afraid because of all that I'd put them through during my previous severe (and very long) depression.  I thought that maybe they'd be too afraid to stick around, not so much afraid of depression, but afraid of what depression has done to me before and how difficult that was for them to watch.  So I tried to keep it from them this time.  I tried to separate myself from them to pre-empt the pain I would feel if they couldn't cope with the depression again and opted to separate themselves from me.  It turned out that all of that was one of the lies that the monster was telling me and got me to believe, because when I did ultimately 'come clean' to them about how desperate I was, they held me in their friendship.  My close friends came to me, sat with me, and took gentle care of the pieces of me that they came across.  They still do.  They text, email, tweet, talk to me on FB, and come round to my flat.  They encourage me to do things with them, to go places, and when I'm not physically well enough to do that, they come round.  One of them has started tidying up my huge back yard for me so that it's a nice area for me to sit in or just to trundle through as my wheelchair access is at the back of the house.  They encourage me to go out with them, meet them in the park for a trundle.  They suggest that maybe they come over to bake cupcakes, just because it's a nice thing to do.  They take me to shops I didn't know about to buy games for my Wii.  One of them has sometimes phoned me in the middle of the night when she knows that I'm likely to be at me lowest, and she has talked with me for five hours, six hours, all through the night, during which time we've cried, we've laughed, we've done the whole spectrum of emotions and covered every subject imaginable and some you might not think about.  They 'keep me safe' in all my insecurities about seeing mutual acquaintances in group situations that terrify me simply because I haven't seen others for so long and I dread the question, 'How are you?'  One or two of those friends occasionally read my blog, and if those friends happen to read this I would like to say a sincere and heart-felt thank you.  You are so very precious, and I hardly dare believe that I deserve such wonderful friends.  Thank you.

3.  Music

I've written a little about playing the piano again, and spending hours immersed in playing the violin again.  I haven't been physically well enough to do any of that for several weeks now, but those were things I was doing when I was a little further up the pit than I currently am.  But they haven't been the only musical things I've been doing.  The choir I helped get up and running last year - Flotsam - is very important to me.  Since being ill with the pyelonephritis again I've been too poorly to go to choir and I've found that really difficult.  Choir gives me time with people (very important when I spend so much time on my own, unable to work, unable to get out much because of chronic ill-health) without having to interact too much with many if I'm feeling fragile.  Choir gives me a place to belong, somewhere I can be a part of something good, a place where I'm the same as everyone else because we are all singing.  Okay, so I can't be the same when they all stand to sing, but I'm kind of used to that, and it doesn't change the fact that I'm still singing just as they are.  Flotsam's choir master is a dear friend who has known me (and I've known, obviously) since I was thirteen.  He has seen me through some of the toughest times of my life, and even if I don't tell him any details, I always feel able to tell him if I'm not doing too well, and that has made Flotsam a very safe place to be.  Of course, music itself can have an emotional effect, as I'm sure most of you have experienced for yourself, and the music we sing in Flotsam tends to be either uplifting or soothing.  Music is also a part of me, something that has always been in my life, and has sometimes been my only way of expressing anything at all.  It allows me to connect with the world - something in the world - that nothing else quite reaches, and it has been a creative outlet for me at a time when I've felt extremely stunted in my ability to creatively express myself in writing.  It's not the same, but it helps.

4.  Mum

During most of my previous deep depression I was largely unable to talk to my mum about any of my feelings.  For various reasons I was angry with Mum, and I closed myself off from her.  It was kind of necessary at the time, but there's been an enormous amount of healing that has gone on between us and we now have a wonderful relationship.  Mum's support throughout this horrible time of depression has been invaluable and constant.  She's phoned me often, but not intrusively so, and during the calls I've been able to tell her a lot of how I've been ... yes, at times I've held back from telling her everything, but in the end - maybe a few weeks down the line - I've been able to share most of those things too.  Mum's been down to visit a few times, which has been very supportive, great company, and has provided much-needed TLC.  Of course, there was also my trip up north to stay with her and J that unfortunately culminated in a hospital admission with pyelonephritis.  Before I took ill, I was having a lovely, relaxed, gentle time with Mum and J, which felt nurturing and lightly refreshing.  It was bad luck that I got so poorly and didn't really get over it while I was away so that it came back almost full-on shortly after getting home.  The goodness gained by staying with Mum was largely erased, unfortunately, except that it helped me with number 5...

5.  Making some decisions

Out of necessity, I'm going to be quite vague here.  Firstly, there has been an on-going situation that has caused me a lot of distress.  I'm not currently at liberty to expand on this for various reasons, but time with Mum, talking with Mum, and several in-depth conversations with my psychologist about the situation have led to me reaching a decision.  I've yet to act on the decision made, but I'm working on it, and even coming to the conclusion that I have has helped.

There is another decision that I'm going to be equally vague about, but concerns something I've thought about a little in the past.  I mentioned it to Mum when I was with her in Edinburgh, and since then have thought about a great deal.  It's probably something for the long-view rather than to implement immediately, but I am beginning more detailed thinking about it, and have decided that I will most likely follow it through at some point.  I think it's a good decision to have made, but will take considerable work.  Anyway, enough of being vague.

6.  Getting out

I've been too unwell with the recurrent pyelonephritis since coming home from Edinburgh to go out much at all.  My days have been pain-filled and isolated as I've lain in bed or on the sofa trying to rest, trying to get/keep my temperature down, watching the clock for when the next antibiotic is due or pain killer can be taken, cuddling the cat whenever he's wanted and sometimes when he hasn't been too keen on it, watching daytime telly, and whiling away time on FaceBook.  Before that I was trying really hard to make sure that I got out at least once a day.  It might just have been to the shop, the park, a trundle around the local streets, or it might have been to town for some window shopping, or a wander along the quayside.  I was avoiding driving anywhere because my concentration was so poor that I didn't trust myself to be safe, which meant that I couldn't take myself off to the coast - a place I usually manage to find some solace.

7.  FaceBook

Okay, so this might sound strange to some, but I've found the contact with others through FaceBook valuable.  At my very worst, when I wasn't able to tell my friends how I was, I didn't go there - I found it very, very difficult to interact with anyone in case I let it slip how I was - but when I did tell folk what was happening, FaceBook helped a lot.  While I was isolated in my depression and by my difficulties in mixing effectively with others, I could roam around FB in the ethereal presence of others online.  I have wasted many, many hours playing Bejeweled Blitz (sic) and Scrabble, clicking on links to You Tube videos posted by others, reading every status update of everyone on my friends list, and looking at millions of pictures of cats.  To those of you who have never experienced depression and have busy, active lives may see all that time on FB as a total waste, but actually it's kept me connected to the world and reminded me of all people I know who are out there.  It's given me something to do, and 'somewhere' to be.


I'm finding it very difficult now to think of other things that have helped.  I'm sure there are more things, but I've been trying to write this list for three hours now and I'm brain-dead.  Perhaps more will come to mind in the coming days, but I have more 'homework' to do ... and it's difficult, so it may be a while until I get back to you.