As Easter Approaches

much ado about little

The current pleasant weather could prove dangerous!

Yesterday afternoon found me briefly pottering about in the garden; this morning I once again exerted myself (a little) tidying up and, transferring a wonderfully rich humus from the bottom of the composter into a barrow.

At that point it suddenly felt like I was about to hit the wall; it was almost as if I could hear the muscles groan through their sluggish response to every bit of exertion.

Come the afternoon I even ventured out for a little walk!

It would be nice if for once there's no payback.

a not quite inadvertent nature watch

just rediscovered this note from a couple of days ago and as no other words are seeking urgent release thought I should post it just as it is

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Having been blessed with glorious sunshine, for at least parts of several recent days, today's sky seems to promise some quite imminent rainfall. As I write the sun has once again broken through the cloud cover; whilst other areas of the country are having hosepipe bans imposed, in these parts there's certainly been no shortage of the watery stuff.

The bright sunshiny mornings have brought the depths of shrubberies alive with an intensity of chatter from the house sparrows, whilst dunnocks trill their melody from higher, more exposed, twigs and branches.

At some point each day, regardless of whether I manage to get out of the house, I have the privilege of watching the red kite(s) circling on the thermals.

and suddenly ....

And suddenly the floodgates open, not a result of any dramatic trauma more like tripping over the everyday! A renewed period of feeling below par, even by my own undemanding standards, inevitably gnaws away at ones self-esteem. Whilst I have so much to be thankful for I still can’t avoid feeling guilty for the restrictions my own health problems place on my beloved.

Today, just ma belle’s suggestion that we go for lunch to the local café was sufficient to set the tears a-flowing; we both enjoy our visits to Café Culture but, with the recent return of quite excruciating pains to my lumbar region, I felt I would be much more comfortable staying at home. Almost immediately the pangs of guilt set in as I felt that my not feeling up to dining out was simultaneously denying my beloved the pleasure.

In recent weeks I’ve been spared the (formerly routine) aches and spasms of the lower limbs, feeling that at least part of me is finally on the mend but, the pains in the arms – starting as if a sustained attack (in vicinity of the elbow) is being made on the funny bone, before gnawingly boring into the armpit and, at other times a nausea inducing ache in the wrist travels slowly up the arm – seem to have increased in frequency as if by way of compensation.

The simple task of removing the ornamental rock from our main aquarium, in order to remove the excess algae, on Monday afternoon, led in turn to painful pulled muscles around the right shoulder blade which subsequently seem to have joined forces with more acute pains in the small of my back.

And suddenly ….  I play the wimp again!

three poems for Helen

 

                                 THAT DAY (for Helen)

                                  That day we found each other,

or perhaps the day

found us.

Though neither of us knew

what we were looking for,

a clasp of hands, an affirmation

of each others presence -

meant more

than either of us knew.

That day we found

each other -

and suddenly we knew.

          Malcolm Evison

TRANSFORMED

(for Helen)

Right now I feel

the urge to scream

forget the aching limbs

dance deftly

on the brim

of my emotions.

Right now

I feel the lure of love

the light

that breaches

my stoical defence.

I see your face

I glow with joy -

right now

there is no you or I

as we rejoice.

Right now I am

alive with you -

I feel -

imbibe the air of this

our perfect world.

                                      Malcolm Evison

 

EMBRACE

Wrapped in each other                     

we break illusions

of our separateness.

As bodies merge

we lose location

finding our place

in vaster schemes.

Thanksgiving, sanctified

with each embrace,

transmits a joy

beyond our reckonings.

Today

love knows no bounds.

                                Malcolm Evison

twelve years on

Today is the twelfth anniversary of my marriage to Helen; on the one hand it seems amazing that all those years have passed and yet, at the same time, it feels as if we’ve always known one another. Not a day goes by that we don’t express our love for one another both verbally and (hopefully) by our actions.

Although during this time I’ve succumbed to moderate ME (an unwelcome intruder since 2003) and sundry other, probably related, chronic conditions, I can still say in all honesty these have been the best years of my life. It’s almost impossible to imagine any quality of life where we are not together.

plus ca change

One soon tires of broadcasting their bad health news, hence the paucity of postings over recent days; I await some positive bright notes with which to intersperse my ailing prose.

In so many ways I feel blessed, adoring and being adored by ma belle, having the wherewithal to keep reasonably warm regardless of what the elements have in store and, constantly being charmed and uplifted by the variety of avian visitors to the garden. What a privilege it is living relatively close to a town centre whilst, from my fireside chair, I can observe a gliding circling red kite, a charm of goldfinches embracing the nyjer seed feeders, and a bullfinch refreshing itself at the birdbath. Flurries of sparrows bound to and fro from shrubbery to feeders, as blackbirds turn over leaf-mould, amidst the reluctantly thawing residue of last weekends snow fall, at the far end of the garden.

Aches and pains in the lower limbs have been less frequent visitors during recent weeks but, those in armpit and upper arm still manage to unnerve me with their accompanying symptoms of nausea and griping crushing sensation in shoulders and rib-cage.

Having finished my large dose of antibiotics to sort out a little diverticular infection, a week last Monday, I was somewhat disappointed when the griping spasms and far too regular explosive evacuations once again took control earlier this week - a type of hyperactivity that drastically interferes with any more normal (socializing) activity. I'm just hoping that a combination of mebeverine and loperamide will enable a swift resolution.

(doing the) anniversary wash

Today was one of those anniversaries, a day when I determined to take a shower (whether I needed it or not), only to be harshly reminded of the reason that showers have become a less frequent event in the life of yours truly. By the time I'd showered, much of the time spent seated, a sense of overwhelming exhaustion (thankfully transient) took control as I stepped out and attempted to towel myself dry.

The past ten days or so have found me once again taking a roller-coaster ride in terms of my general health, ranging from a rare sense of assurance and well-being (following on from an intensive time of prayer) to times when even the sound of one sheet of paper sliding across another was sufficient to turn me into a shaking quivering wreck. On another occasion I was able to bask in the warm golden flow emanating from the acupuncture needles, a time of complete relaxation.

I'm not sure whether my current course of antibiotics, metronidazole 400mg (x3 daily) and ciprofloxacin 500mg (x2 daily) prescribed for an intestinal infection, contributes anything to, or even mildly militates against, any overall sense of comfort.

I remain, as usual, a work in progress.

of appointments and pent-up frustrations

Last Saturday found me out in the garden doing a bit of lopping, pruning and trimming of sundry shrubs. I must have spent a little over an hour enjoying a gloriously sunshiny day, as the shrubs ensured work for idle hands. Two days later, by way of reward for these endeavours, a day of numbingly aching body and soul when even switching on a kettle seemed far too great an effort.

Mid-way through my waking hours on Tuesday, I started to feel reasonably recovered (from the tortuous preceding day) so there was little to suggest the tear-fuelled emotional response to a visit to my GP’s surgery the following day.

My appointment on Wednesday afternoon was with the same GP referred to in the post “once more to the land of A&E”, and therefore a most positive prospect. Once in the consulting room, the atmosphere seemed overwhelmingly business-like as, within the allocated 10 minutes, he wanted to focus solely on symptoms of breathlessness and chest pains, thereby excluding all other aches, pains and painful disorders, from the equation. He said he was going to arrange an appointment with the cardiology department and was also sending me for further blood tests, as well as a Glucose tolerance test (requested by one of the practice nurses who had been checking my NHS Health Check results). It was also mentioned, in passing that I’d not kept appointments with the Chronic Fatigue Unit and, they had now discharged me! For the truth of this see my post “psycho-fatigue”, (which describes my departure from an assessment visit at which I informed the psychologist I wouldn’t be paying any further visits to the Unit and, hence, discharged myself).

As I headed back home, with my beloved, I was overwhelmed with a pent-up frustration and tears flooded out. I felt as if I was being treated as a chest-pain, not at all as a person! When I got home the tears flowed even more freely and I declared that I wouldn’t bother with any of their b…dy tests. Being told that I’d failed to keep appointments at the psycho-fatigue unit, a false surmise, turned out to be the final straw that released all the pent-up frustration.

Ma Belle swiftly contacted the surgery to inform them how distraught I was after the appointment. A short time later I received a ‘phone call from the same GP I had seen earlier, as he wanted to understand why I should be so upset and, at the same time apologized if he’d misread the situation and seemed too business-like!

Early evening our doorbell rang – an unexpected visitor had arrived! The doctor, having finished his surgery duties, had in his own time called around to visit us and enquire what he could do to help! I was assured that he hoped to take a holistic approach and, he once again apologized for misreading the situation. Talk about going the extra mile! The visit ended most amicably and I will be seeing him again on Monday for a further twenty minute consultation.

Meanwhile I’m bracing myself for tomorrow’s early morning bloodletting session at the District Hospital.

once more to the land of A&E

Yesterday morning I was feeling a little more shattered than is my norm but, I managed to remove myself from the duvet lair by 11.30. A brief bout of surfing the web provoked no enthusiasm so, I settled for applying Windows Update to sundry machines whilst listening to something or other on the radio.

Early afternoon, when ma belle and Beth had returned from a mini shopping spree, I prepared a griddled salmon, peppers and mushroom stir fry served with jacket potatoes but, during this (none too taxing) food preparation I began to feel a bit more jaded than usual, even becoming a little stressed.

At about 16.00hrs, I walked with ma belle to collect a prescription from my GP practice, approximately five minutes walking time; I found myself struggling to keep pace with Helen and, apart from aching lower limbs, I became a little breathless. Having collected the prescription the next phase was to drop it into the pharmacist whilst we went to the café a couple of doors along.

That’s when things began to fall apart; even the few yards walk seemed a daunting task as giddiness, breathlessness and a tight constricting sensation in chest and abdomen took control. My beloved took me back into the pharmacists where I found a seat and was proffered a glass of water. An overwhelming cloying discomfort through head, torso and limbs, briefly took control before I began to feel more settled. Meantime, ma belle chauffeuse had brought the car around to the pharmacy to run me back home.

This being the second time in a few days when I’ve experienced such un-nerving symptoms, it seemed a good idea to try to fix an appointment with one of the GPs in my practice. A doctor spoke to me, and ma belle, over the ‘phone and, he thought it imperative that I went down to A&E at the District Hospital.

I was really impressed by the efficiency and thoroughness of clerks, nurses and doctor in the department. I was sent through for initial assessment, BP check etc., within ten minutes of reporting at reception and was wired up for an ECG within thirty minutes. The doctor who examined me was extremely thorough, imbuing me with some much needed confidence, as he sounded out my chest and painstakingly examined the whole abdominal region. He inserted a canula in my arm in preparation for taking several phials of blood for testing, and then requested a urine sample.

The GP, who had suggested I attend A&E, had already checked with the department that I’d arrived and enquired how I was. My blood pressure was rather high (high blood pressure seems to be trending with me these days), even the diastolic had gone soaring, the first couple of times it was checked. Later, my blood pressure was checked again, this time in both supine and standing positions.

Once blood test results had been obtained the doctor returned and re-examined my abdominal region. As the blood tests were all clear he prepared me for discharge but, I then had to wait for some antibiotics to be dispensed as the urine sample had shown up an infection. Once again I must express my gratitude for a wonderful NHS and hope, campaign, and pray that the Tory plans to destroy it can be de-railed.

This morning, shortly after 9.00am, my GP rang me to see how I was. With such concern being shown, I am more than ever convinced that my transferring to the neighbourhood doctors’ surgery, from the one I’d been with since the 1970s, was totally fortuitous.