And For This I Give Thanks

This morning, I awoke after some seven and a half hours of intermittent hot-flushed sleep but, all too swiftly returned to a state of rib and limb aching stupor. Some eleven hours after retiring to bed, my beloved assisted my slow elevation into an appropriate position to manage a hot drink and a bowl of cereal.

Half an hour later, I managed to remove myself from the duvet lair and proceeded to the bathroom where, under the caring supervision of ma belle, I managed to enjoy a shower even though the subsequent towelling procedure proved a bit of an effort. It was a pleasant surprise to find that a further rest period was not required after this exertion.

Being the brave soul that I am, I eventually managed a brief brisk walk in the company of ma belle. At the present time I am feeling reasonably alert, ache free and, quite human. For this I give thanks!

A Relaxed Evening

It was really good to have Cathy and Ken as our guests last evening and, I was relieved that my stamina held out, after the earlier ‘cold flush’ attack. It proved a very relaxed evening, aided and abetted by a glass (or two) of “L’Escarpe” Pouilly Fuisse, 2004 and a Warburn Estate ShowReserve Shiraz, 2002. My past experience of the Shiraz and, the application of the women folk to its consumption, assured me that I was not proferring a dud, whilst the Chardonnay provided Ken and myself with a fruitfully smooth and long finished imbibing pleasure.

In these days, when my tolerance of alcohol ain’t what it used to be, I still manage to derive considerable pleasure from the bouquet and palate of a well-made wine, consumed in moderation. In the course of the evening, I even managed to take a piccy of Ken and Cathy in which Ken looked remarkably like a sultry early ‘60s (the calendar years, not the unattained age) Elvis. The digital result was achieved sans manipulation of the image. Even in the cold clear light of the following day, I can still observe photographic evidence of this resemblance … I refrain from publishing the piccy for fear of adding more grist to the “Elvis isn’t dead” mill. [You’ll just have to take my word for it, I’m afraid].

Unwelcome Visitors

My days of navel-gazing are so long past, they seem to belong to another being! I suppose that, to some extent, it has been replaced by thermo-torso observation. The mysteries of the body thermostat are way beyond my comprehension. Sudden “hot-flushes” which totally disregard the ambient temperature have had, over the past few months, to share the place of honour with “cold-flushes”.

What is it with these all too frequent “body event” visitors? They don’t seem to realize that I wouldn’t feel too upset if they deprived me of their companionship!

Best Wishes for The Coming Year

Sinna Luvva and Bright Light send our best wishes for 2006 to all our readers.

A Reluctant Hero

In an age when heroes seem to be in short supply, or perhaps that’s a reference to any age, it really is good to be informed of one whom I had overlooked. This is the man to whom we should be grateful that we were not all annihilated in September 1983; his name is STANISLAV PETROV.

I am grateful to my friend Nigel for sending me this link, along with his New Year’s greetings.

Plus ca change

Having watched ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’, last evening, in which it gave one a warm glow to see the greedy get their come-uppance, this evenings viewing for my beloved and myself was ‘Bound For Glory’ (The Story of Woody Guthrie). As Guthrie, temporarily ‘exiled’ in California in the late 1930's, recalls his Oklahoma home, he states that it’s “easier to put up with nature, dust storms and all, than it is to put up with greed”. As we observed the great gulf between rich and poor Stateside, we couldn't help feeling … plus ca change!

Simple Pleasures

The Christmas period has once more enabled us, (or should that read driven us), to ‘lapse’ once more into the routine of having our main meal at the dining table. The dining table is usually the preserve of Sunday lunches alone, our bean bag supported lap-tables being the more usual resting place for our dinner plates. Each meal, sat at table, becomes somehow a more significant event. Even the little ‘grace’ of thanksgiving, before we apply our snouts to the trough, seems more gracious.

As circumstances dictate that I spend most of my day lounging around, the move through to the dining room serves to add variety to my day. I admit there are times when even that exertion would seem too great but, in general, it is good to have an extra reason for using my ambulatory gift!

A Special Time

Christmas has once again restored a childlike magic in my life, this influence is magnified as once more I felt like a participant in the Nativity story. On Christmas Eve, after our preliminary preparations for the morrow had been completed, Helen and myself relaxed in the evening which culminated in watching, and participating in spirit, the Midnight Mass from Gloucester Cathedral. After a somewhat jaded day, I felt refreshed as we celebrated the birth of the Christ child … the best way to welcome Christmas Day.

On Christmas morning, as we lay abed, I enjoyed and felt uplifted by the Mass for Christmas morning from Clifton cathedral. Much emphasis was given to the outcast and the dispossessed during the address … the Christmas story should not be a comforting message to those who would preserve the status quo! A slow emergence from the duvet’s lair, however, did not preclude my fatigued collapses at intervals during the day, so it became something of a priority to take little naps, the better to enjoy the day.

We were joined, for Christmas Dinner, by Beth and Mahmood whom we welcomed with an appetizer of Waitrose Vintage Champagne, 1996 … a beautifully balanced elaboration of P&C Heidseck. To accompany our traditional Christmas Dinner, we partook of a glass of ‘Andrew Garrett Coonawarra Reserve Cabernet, 2002’, a wonderful mouthwatering bramble concoction with a cinnamon tingle derived from the oak ageing.

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Our guests left us late afternoon and ma belle and myself slumped into a relaxed evening, with an early ascent of the wooden steps towards duvetdom. Although tired, despite my preceding periods of rest, sleep did not come too easily … bodily aches, pains and general discomforts tend to have a way of overwhelming the desire/ necessity for sleep.

Following a brief midnight ramble around the house, I lay on top of the bed watching my beloved sleep. This simple act gave such a warm glow, she is so precious and, I just lay stroking her hair and cheeks rapt in adoration and feelings of overwhelming protectiveness. Love is such an amazing thing!

This morning, we once more enjoyed a very relaxed start, au lit, to the day … as we became totally enraptured by ‘The Magician’s Nephew’ on BBC7. It’s so amazing just how much more vivid the pictures produced by a good radio production are, in comparison to televisual portrayals of the same or similar stories!

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I’ve just realized that I’ve made no mention of presents received, in fact we still have some of our main presents to open …. But it is a wonderful Christmas, here with my beloved.

Impromptu on Faith, Dogma and Belief

When I consider FAITH I definitely don’t mean DOGMA nor, come to think of it, do I mean BELIEF. Faith is an overwhelming necessity, which in the final resort overrides all our actions and beliefs. At times it even seems as if Faith is simply another name for God, it is that in which we live, move and have our being. A rudimentary faith precedes any action, without it we could never make the first step, that first tentative move.

Before we ‘knew’ we could take our first step, we had already embarked on that exercise and so, we start to walk. It’s almost as if we question the reasons for our being confined to sitting, rolling over and crawling. There must be more! Without that step of faith, our lives are restricted in terms of both action and thought. We breathe because we can, it is not an act of reason … a rational decision … it simply is! For most of us, not being able to understand how this amazing organism, the human body, functions doesn’t lead us to give up on breathing. We don’t have to ‘believe’ in breathing in order to partake of the activity but, I must admit, our lives would be much poorer without our participation in this particular activity.

Our faith may later have a set of doctrines/ beliefs as its foundation but, the faith is much more than the beliefs that we affirm. Coming from a Christian background, I tend to use a broadly Christian terminology; at its core my life (in thought and action) is shaped by various Christian myths. Dogma is an easy way of handing over responsibility for our faith, to the traditions of learned (and not so learned) others, whereas faith itself isn’t averse to questioning and doubt. [Of course, I have to acknowledge that without some of these dogmatists we wouldn’t have the canon of scripture from which I draw my inspiration.]

Christ said that He came that we may have LIFE and have it ABUNDANTLY. Dogma, on the other hand, is that which restricts this fullness … to question a dogma is frequently confused with denying the faith. To question is to have faith; to blindly follow is to renounce the muscle of faith.

Our Christmas faith tells of a helpless child, whose birth causes the political and religious establishment to tremble. This helpless child, the “word made flesh”, still holds out a challenge both to the pious and to the politically powerful. Though frequently stumbling, I try to follow His call.

I Am Not Alone!

After a few discomforted weeks, in terms of collapses and general disorientation alongside my traditional muscular spasms and erratic body thermostat, I finally got around to seeing my GP again. This visit, ostensibly a follow up on the effectiveness of the nasal spray which I’ve been using for the past eight weeks, as a result of which I’ve only experienced miniscule improvement in the mucous stakes, provided the doctor with an opportunity to update on my general state of (un)wellbeing.

A positive note, regarding my general health, is that my thyroid function has improved, although I must admit the practical correlation to this improvement has been imperceptible. Although the phrases “post viral” and “chronic fatigue” had been thrown out en passant, during my GP visits, over the past twenty months or so, it wasn’t until the physiotherapist started visiting me, a few months back, that she diagnosed my condition as ME/CFIDS. Today, I discovered that the endocrinologist, who I had consulted with about eighteen months ago, had suggested ‘chronic fatigue’.

So now, apart from the acupuncture sessions, I have an appointment with my link worker for CBT in January and have today been referred to the Chronic Fatigue Unit in Leeds. Although I’m not expecting any miracles, it is good to feel that I am not alone! For this small mercy, I give thanks.