a REAL Pain in the .... just another day

Why don’t they come and release the clamps … why don’t they come and RELEASE THE CLAMPS? Stupid thing is there aren’t any clamps and, even if there were, there’s no-one around to free me from them. I’m just slowly recovering from one of those all too familiar attacks where throbbing aches and pains in upper arms, wrists, elbows, knees and ankles arrive in an apparently choreographed simultaneity.

It’s not that I’d been doing too much either; I arose from my un-refreshing sleep at around 10.15am, had a small breakfast and browsed a newspaper (online) for about fifteen minutes and then just sat, stroked the dog and made a little fuss of him, before venturing out into the big wide-world. At around 1.15pm I was chauffeured into town, by ma belle Helen, to browse and purchase one or two DVDs for my birthday, utilizing a voucher received (on my birthday) a few weeks ago.

The purchasing venture proved successful and, we were back at home within an hour from stepping out. Judging by the greeting received from Piper, our delightful canine boy, you’d have thought we had been away for days; frantic tail wags, barks of delight and excited bodily contortions were all part of his display menu.

Shortly after our return home I prepared dinner for Helen and myself, one of my own recipes, a Kedgeree cum Byriani. The meal proved most satisfactory, after which I relaxed a while, listening to Bruckner’s 7^th Symphony (compliments of Radio 3). After this relaxation interlude, I began to feel uncomfortably exhausted and, hints of the painful bodily niggles were already apparent. I went to recline on the larger sofa, with the intention of watching a DVD but, by now, the niggles were intensifying and a dose of tramadol was in order.

Next thing, I was having to curl up, arms stretched between my legs, legs randomly (and arbitrarily) thrown over the back of the sofa and, of necessity my upper arms clamped tightly to my torso. By this time, the discomfort in my toes, feeling as if my socks were applying an excruciating pressure to the knuckles of these digits, had also kicked in. I think I managed to view the first twenty minutes of the DVD before having to clamp my face tightly against the sofa back.

Elements of these nausea inducing, expletive demanding, symptoms are almost a daily occurrence at present although, I must admit, were of a slightly more disconcerting intensity this afternoon. Spending more than a quite limited time using a laptop, or holding a newspaper or book, regularly induces a squirm inducing discomfort in armpits, elbow and wrists but, although I enjoy playing and wrestling with words, I find it virtually impossible to describe the nature of these swift onset aches pains and nauseating discomforts. These invisible disabilities / infirmities are a real pain in the … (fundament?)!

Sat to please

                            SAT TO PLEASE

Piper gently whines missing his mistress, and (the now back home) recuperating Beth; no matter how he laments these absences, regardless of duration, they never seem to affect his appetite. The prospect of a treat brings out his sunnier disposition, and his heart melting gaze of adoration; a non-stop supply of food would be his idea of paradise!

I can frequently be a miserable bugger, feeling totally emasculated as physical and emotional stamina rarely seems up to (e.g. furniture shifting / re-arranging) tasks that once would have been a doddle.

No matter how much I appreciate those activities that I can (and do) manage, an aggressive and anxiety laden self-pity, far too often, takes over. Our wonderful hound quite frequently alleviates these more morose moments, just by his close proximity and his readiness to please.

CHANGING NOCTURNAL TRADITIONS - (one man, one woman, and their dog)

Last night, once again, was of the somewhat discomforted variety, regardless of a pre-emptive dose of amitriptyline and tramadol. It was rather difficult to clamp down on the moans & cusses that seemingly forced their way out of my mouth; my beloved responded by cuddling me tight (until she was overwhelmed by sleep) but then, the cuddles were followed by a gentle patter of feet, approaching the bed, as our beautiful hound came to add further comfort, stretching his forepaws across my upper arms and his head across my shoulder, and onto my neck as he lay along the edge of the bed.

You may well think that Piper, our beagle–podenco hybrid hound, was very clever to hear, and respond quite swiftly to, my moans upstairs, when his bed is in a room, behind a closed door, downstairs. Up until a few short weeks ago he did indeed sleep downstairs, usually on a sofa in preference to his quite de-luxe bed. Matters changed when Helen had a bad coughing fit, at night, to which the solitary Piper responded by whining, barking and finally banging against the living room door.

After this sustained barrage of sound we succumbed to his whiles / concern and allowed him to run upstairs. That night he settled himself on the duvet, creating his own cradle in a ridge between the recumbent bodies of Helen and myself.

After a couple more evenings he had decided that he needed to keep an eye on us, sneaking through the living room door in the time it took to switch off a light. He soon decided that he didn’t like being alone and commandeered the bedroom armchair, equipped with an old blanket and towel, as his customary nocturnal roost.

Come morning, he pays a visit to our bed, as if to check we’re alright and still there. If he outstays the welcome of his inspection routine, he can generally be persuaded to go back into HIS chair!

DISTURBANCES

Today has been one of those where sundry, apparently minor, ailments decided to stamp their cumulative presence at the forefront of my consciousness. Earlier in the day, after an all too familiar restless and discomforting night abed, nothing troubled me more than my familiar nagging aches in limbs and torso but, by mid afternoon, cold-like symptoms in palate, sinus and gravelly throat moved dramatically to the fore. Quite early in the afternoon I’d felt rather light-headed, as the room became giddyingly hazy, moving in and out of focus, and I felt rather nauseous; although the experience was reminiscent of when I suffered with labyrinthitis, on this occasion it dispersed rather swiftly.

Unfortunately, a couple of hours later, as I prepared to take Piper for his evening walk, the light-headedness returned with a vengeance and I had to reach out to the hall wall to prevent myself falling. Strangely, I’d been considering whether I should once again resort to use of a walking stick, to support me on my gentle perambulations. My OH helped me back to the lounge where I rested on the sofa feeling pitifully sorry for myself and indescribably fearful. It seems that too many consecutive nights of un-refreshing sleep aren’t too good for one’s sense of well-being. Never mind though, I should by now be more accepting of the state of unwell-being that has accompanied me for the past thirteen years.

The persistent detonation of fireworks, by persons known and unknown, preceding and subsequent to both Bonfire Night and New Year’s Eve / Day have at times turned our outgoing rescue dog, Piper, into a quivering heap seeking sanctuary in corners, under cushions and, squeezing into previously non-negotiable spaces, besides, between, and behind the seated forms of ma belle and myself. On New Years Eve he, meaning Piper, ran up to the bedroom and snuggled into the bed behind my beloved, and as the erratic explosions continued well into the early hours, eventually burrowed under the duvet to settle down between the recumbent forms of his people.

Fortunately for ma belle, very little disturbs her slumbers and, even after the aforementioned disruption of the nights’ more usual routine, she still emerged bright and early to give Piper his morning walk before going out to lead worship and preach at Harlow Moor chapel. As for me, my fitfully erratic sleep pattern was only marginally more disrupted than is the norm.

The Piper voices many tunes

Time races by; as one gets older the weeks pass like days, months pass as quickly as weeks and, years breast the finishing tape just as one’s getting used to the present year’s number. Thinking back to childhood days, each passing term-time seemed trudgingly ponderous, as I yearned for the next holiday break from school; one annual visit from Santa Claus meant an eternities wait until the next festive excitement.

Anyway, the haste with which the weeks pass by is presented as my excuse for the paucity of blog postings from yours truly. Each day I promise myself that tomorrow may be the day I settle down to composing a post but, these promises are usually of the same order as those made by Owen Smith during the present unnecessary contest for the Labour Party leadership!

Now, “follow that”, I say to myself, concerned that by the time I settle down any reportage will already be out of date. Sleepless, discomforted, nights abed have once again become a norm, or at least, the briefest of snoozes is swiftly curtailed by nauseating discomfort on far too many occasions of late. Somehow, eleven hours of bed rest leaves me totally unrefreshed, my deepest sleep usually being attained from around the time I should be breaking my (nocturnal) fast!

Piper, our ‘schnuffelhund’* (actually mixed breed with a predominance of beagle) is therapeutically filling a lot of my waking hours, working miracles when I’m feeling at my lowest ebb of physical and emotional stamina. I can no longer imagine a family home without him. At times he becomes a Jesus dog, (literally) washing his disciples (Helen & myself) feet, as he rests alongside our respective reclining forms on the sofa. He has already familiarized himself with many local pathways and bridleways and, he’s determined to direct his walking attendant towards his preferred course of progress.

Although he runs and ambles freely in the garden, we’re reluctant to release him from lead and harness on our outings; his desire to follow any interesting scent, regardless of where it may lead, could lead to frustrations and alone-ness for considerable periods of time for his attendant / handler. It’s always difficult to know how he will greet any other canine in the vicinity, lots of friendly mutual sniffing can so easily switch to a bold growling, or even snarling, disposition if memories of earlier beastly attackers occur. (We not infrequently are witness to his bad dreams and, he still bears scars, on head and body, from the severe maulings he received in his Spanish pound years).

What amazes me most about our therapeutic miracle is the range of voicings he uses to express his emotional needs and fulfilments; a soft, low, purring growl denotes contentment as he snuggles up to his human companion/s, a more sustained rolling growl denotes the approach of visitors o the house whilst a more positive bark is reserved for feline or human intrusions on what he considers his territory.

A whistling nasal whine is Piper’s lament when his mistress leaves the house without him but, this swiftly settles when a.n.other proffers him due attention. An anticipated walk brings forth a yelping bark, accompanied by a hip wiggling tail wagging dance. A gentle whine as he wanders through the dining area may symbolise his desire to run out into the garden but, when he suspect his meal is being prepared an excited bark (less baritone than that of territorial declamation) accompanied by full-body wiggle expresses his preparedness.

His sheer range of expressiveness is sufficient to boggle one’s human mind!

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* ‘schnuffelhund’ my own personal nomenclature for Piper’s breed

Times they are a changing as the Piper calls

A time of change; as all things turn, there is always a return made, an apparent centring to what has been a slow created essence of one’s being! Quite why I scribbled down that opening line, I’m a little uncertain but, I am aware that certain changes, so rapidly, assimilate to one’s sense of place that they swiftly seem as if they had always been!

We have swiftly adapted to the revamped home, following the many weeks during which the extension work, chez nous, took place. Somehow it seems as if the adaptations had been made to accommodate our family’s latest arrival. As yet we await confirmation that we will be able to adopt our foster boy ‘Piper’.

Piper is a beagle and (assumed) Labrador cross, he certainly has many of the traits that are typical of beagles, always following scents of potential prey wherever he goes, and he has an insatiable appetite for food. The beagle trait is unmistakeable in the head and his colouring is quite like a less saturated version of a red fox Labrador.

Having spent five years in a pound in Spain, where he was bullied and attacked by other dogs, he has a slightly nervous disposition but, has settled in wonderfully into our household. At first he seemed to have a wariness of homo sapiens males, much preferring the female of the species but I was surprised how quickly he accepted me. Piper is definitely a people dog, and has swifltly re-organised the days for ma belle et moi. He’s just so endearing!

Ma Belle generally takes him for morning walk before he has his first meal of the day, so she’s getting the most exercise she has had in quite sometime, sometimes I accompany them both, for at least some of the time, in the evening! Thursday evening I actually managed the longest walk that I’ve had since 2003, and only had minimal payback in terms of a minor degree of shatteredness. Admittedly the back support came into play last evening, as I’d sprained the muscles on the left hand side of my back, probably caused when competing for space in my favourite armchair!

In the morning it’s wonderful to be greeted by the bounding energy ball, that is Piper, as he races upstairs and pounces upon the duvet,  expressing his joy in being here to share my life. Usually a quite boisterous greeting but, this morning, as if acknowledging my back-aching jadedness, he just flopped beside me, forepaws placed gently over my arm.

We are fortunate in having a reasonably well secured, sizeable garden which he always enjoys exploring, in his preparedness to see off any trespassing felines. Just like us he enjoys a reasonably sustained chilled out flop, between bouts of exercise and/or feeding.

In the eight / nine days he has been with us I’ve not needed to resort to wrist, elbow, or shoulder supports, nor have I needed to increase my pain-killer intake. If being part of our family is as therapeutic for him as it is for me, we are both well and truly blessed. My step-daughter Beth who lives, with her four cats, across town is totally smitten with the boy and happily proffers her dog walking services for Piper.