POPPY DAY DILEMMAS - Re-post

As both a Christian and a Socialist, I always have problems with the celebration of militarism otherwise known as Poppy Day. Whether or not I would have had sufficient strength of character to stand by my pacifist principles in extreme circumstances is something that used to cause me considerable concern but, there are also other issues involved.

Much soul searching was involved, even when I had attempted to renounce my Xtian faith and, subsequently joined a revolutionary socialist organization. Don't get me wrong, I was already a socialist when I became a Christian, and failed to see the apparent necessity of taking on the petty bourgeois pretensions & morality that seemed to be the norm for evangelicals those days and saw communism, in an idealistic sense, as being far more compatible with Christianity than capitalism.

I moved freely between and amongst various groupings of the left, dismayed by much of the ideological bickering; I did manage however to retain friendships, in spite of (doctrinal) difficulties with members of factional groupings other than the one for which I settled.Too many of my comrades seemed to revel in the prospect of a good rumble, one could almost sense them salivating at the prospect of a bloody uprising. I consoled myself with the thought that bloodshed, like class warfare, is generally instigated by the capitalist ruling class and therefore resistance to their unjust power structures, which could only be maintained by the use of force, became a moral imperative.

But what of turning the other cheek; to be honest that may be the only option when confronted with the combined might of military and police, should the true wealth creators, the working class, attempt to fight for a truly just and democratic society where real equality of opportunity for everyone in a society focussed on care for one's neighbour. Bear in mind that I use neighbour in the broadest sense, that of the parable of the good Samaritan not the cynicism of "charity begins at home". To turn the other cheek is an expression of disdain for the values of those who rule by force. I did decide,however, that if I was able to shake off the shackles of my religious faith I would be happy to take up arms in the cause of a workers revolution. At the same time I recognized that there was no way I could take up arms for Queen and country, the capitalist cause. A complex dilemma indeed; the message and life of Jesus had so firmly grasped me that I still felt guilty at my readiness. albeit hypothetical, to take up arms for a revolutionary cause.

I fully appreciate the preparedness of young people, often from socially deprived areas of the nation, to join the armed forces in order to learn a trade and earn a living. Since the politically wilful destruction of our industrial base other job opportunities are greatly restricted. Nor do I doubt that many military personnel are serving in support of deeply held principles, whether understandably honourable or misguided is here irrelevant. For me a major scandal of the Poppy Appeal is that the welfare of those who have served their nation, and it's capitalist cause, should be dependent in any way upon charitable donations. It is the responsibility of the state that recruits, employs and puts the lives of these young men at risk,for whatever ideological motivation, to look after them.

I regret the loss of life of civilians and military personnel equally; I abhor the slaughter of innocents on the imperialist whim of any ruling elite. Should there come a Remembrance Day with no uniformed military personnel or insignia on display, at Cenotaphs and commemorative church services, I would no longer see the commemorations as show of support for militarism but, rather an acknowledgement of the futility of war.

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This post originally appeared here on 10 November 2010

THE PIPER's TALE Wags

No matter how long, or short, the time spent out of sight of our beloved dog, the welcome back we receive is heart meltingly, heart warningly, touching and enthusiastic.  Wherever he’s sat or resting, his tail beats a rapid drum roll, on the adjacent surface, as he welcomes us back into the (his) room. A hind leg is raised by the reclining Piper, as he rolls onto his back in preparation for a chest rub from his sentimental chattels (ma belle Helen & myself). The invitation extended is usually enthusiastically acted upon.

My beloved OH has usually taken him on an extended morning walk sometime before I, myself, emerge from the duvet lair. His early breakfast, and morning exercise, seem to provide (or ignite) a core of boundless energy, in Piper, as he leaps over armchair and sofa arms and back, to give me a most enthusiastic, amusingly vocalised, welcome into the world of the day people.

The afternoon/ early evening walk, usually, finds him in the company of both Helen and myself, as I can manage him better on the longer lead (5 metres), a retractable lead for dogs weighing twice Piper’s weight, proved too weak for him; original and replacement both failed. My beloved can sometimes manage him with a stronger extendable lead, dependent on ground conditions. He has demonstrated rather worrying Houdini like escape routines on a few occasions but, this morning, he launched a powerful forward surge, on sighting or scenting a squirrel, which necessitated my beloved releasing her hold on the (manageable?) short lead, returning a few minutes later minus lead!

At present I’m undergoing rather more rapid onset bouts of pain, ranging from throbbing, to burning, cry out loud varieties. The sites of these pains fluctuates between knees, wrist, elbows, shoulders and, especially at night, a burning sensation in the toes which makes even an normal contact with the bed sheet a quite excruciating experience. Problem is that the dull, low level, aches and pains that have been a long-term companion, have a habit of metamorphosing into more intense, nausea inducing varieties. Apart from this, I have little to complain about and continue to enjoy life & love to the full extent physical and emotional stamina permits!

My beloved not infrequently refers to Piper’s adventures on her BRIGHT LIGHT blog, alongside her reports on services at her chapel, and chapels where she is leading worship as a local preacher, and other more general personal / family events.

Illustrated Poems on Mal's Factory

A few illustrated poems, by yours truly, have recently been posted on MAL's FACTORY

A CRY of SELF-PITY – an ATTEMPT to EXORCISE the PAIN

Although I’m, by now, well used to unrefreshing sleep, the past couple of weeks have found me experiencing the most erratically intermittent bouts of night time rest, haphazardly interlaced by an alarming array of discomforting, nausea inducing, peripatetic tingling and throbbing parcels of pain.

A spasmodic, sudden onset, sensation of the knees being crushed and clamped from either side, by surreptitious g-force avengers, is the most recent addition to my more familiar catalogue of aches and pains. Sometimes the pain is partially alleviated by the donning of sports knee supports; at other times the supports simply add another layer of throbbing discomfort. On other occasions my only recourse is to an extra dose of tramadol, even though its efficacy is slow to be realized.  

Wrists and/or elbows frequently ache and throb, for no apparent reason, but application of elasticated supports soon alleviates the worst excesses of the discomfort. For a considerable time now  I have avoided donning any nightwear on the torso, as PJ jackets seemed to exacerbate the nausea inducing discomfort emanating from axillary lymph nodes. More recently I’ve had to don jacket or vest, at times, to alleviate a disconcertingly abstract discomfort around the shoulders and armpits.

The most infuriating of the many nocturnal disturbances / sleep preventatives is a sudden tingling rasping sensation on the tops of my toes, sometimes almost feeling as if it emanates from a felt, but non-existent, elevated ridge, on top of the foot, just behind the toes. This frustrating event usually occurs just as my body and mind feel sufficiently sedated to visit the land of nod. Its onset is frequently marked by an almost uncontrollable flailing of the lower limbs and, an angry muted scream of profanities emanating from the mouth of yours truly. The touch of the sheet, against the suddenly over-sensitive toes, can seem to be an overwhelming tortuous  burden.

No matter how tired, or even exhausted, I may feel as I prepare for my bed-rest, these sundry ailments and irritations ensure that I rarely achieve more than occasional brief cat-naps for many of the nocturnal hours.  In terms of sleep, my requirement / need rarely seems to be fulfilled.

A large bag full of supports for shoulder, wrist, elbow, back etc. now accompanies me on the daily transition from sitting room to bed room, from day into night.

A CRY of SELF-PITY – an ATTEMPT to EXORCISE the PAIN


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PS 22/09/16 see also:

Restless - Illustrated Poem

on 'Mal's Factory' which reflects a similar theme!

a modicum of exercise

Although I have never considered ME as primarily a ‘fatigue’ condition, pain, cognitive difficulties, postural hypotension, sensitivities to sound and light, and post-exertional-malaise, being more distinct identifiers, the past several days have found me in a quite sustained  state of shattered exhaustion. Intermittent, unrefreshing, nocturnal episodes of sleep, do little to relieve fatigue, even as a component of quite prolonged periods of (supposed) rest.

This afternoon, although still somewhat achingly tired, I took Piper for a walk, accompanied by ma belle OH, and, in spite of having to shorten the circuit on which we roamed, I felt (emotionally) better for the exercise! Admittedly, a couple more painkillers were necessary to ease the aftermath experience.

All in all, the presence of Piper as a family member has proved wonderfully therapeutic, and the warmth of his adoring gaze is more than sufficient to melt the heart of this hardened cynic, regardless of how under par, physically and/or emotionally, I may be feeling, as the blessed recipient.

Much as our beloved pet enjoys both bounding leaps, and slow, nose led, meanders around the garden, he has developed an undue readiness to dig holes in the grassy area, frequently followed by an attempt to sneak back into the lounge before we have a chance to check the cleanliness of his fore-paws.

As recompense for the brevity of this posting, I’m adding a few recent snapshots of the garden (and Piper in it’s environs)

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

Repost on Mal's Factory - On Listening to Mahler

Having been totally absorbed by a performance of Mahler's Symphony No 3, conducted by Bernard Haitink, from the BBC Proms courtesy of BBC4, I thought it time to repost a poem of mine on my poetry blog. The poem On Listening to Mahler can be found on Mal's Factory here - 

If you're wary of clicking links the address, which you may cut and paste is:

https://malsfactory.blogspot.co.uk/2016/07/on-listening-to-mahler-response-in-six.html

Flummoxed by Circumstance

The heat and humidity of the past week have certainly, but unsurprisingly, had a detrimental effect on my relative state of well-being. Even before the hottest day arrived, I was already suffering payback, for over-exertion, in my desire to optimize the length of time & distance spent walking our gorgeous dog Piper.

Already impaired by that payback I'm somewhat flummoxed when trying to determine how much of my current ailments, tenderness of lymph nodes (both axillary and cervical), aching bones feeling somewhat as if they've been hollowed out and lined with lead and undergoing extreme gravitational tugs of war, are a continuation of the earlier payback and how much solely a response to climatic conditions.

I've reluctantly had to resort to supports applied to wrist, elbow, knee, ankle, and even tubular bandages covering most of my arm. I don't know whether this use of tubular bandage serves as some kind of lymphatic massage but, it certainly helps. Unfortunately, alongside the physical ailments, a re-active depression has had a deleterious effect on my ability to respond rationally to any minor physical or emotional setback.

Yesterday morning as I lay on my bed, chokingly sobbing, Piper ran up the stairs, placed his head beside mine and lay with me for a few minutes; that in itself demonstrated that his presence in our life proves therapeutic. I have actually managed a couple of shorter walks with the boy in the cooler parts of the evening.

Piper is certainly becoming more confident since joining our family, barking a confident disapproval of large darkly coloured dogs encountered on his walks, yet offering friendly sniff-based greeting to many other canines that he had at first cowered away from. Judging by this behaviour, I suspect that the scattering of scars on head and torso, received whilst in the pound, were caused by a really large dark coloured canine. He has certainly gained a good knowledge of our nearby footpaths and bridleways and seems to let his walker know when he's ready to head back home.

his mistress's scent

Piper

Piper

Although I spend much more time with the dog at home, than my beloved OH manages (owing to other commitments), she is definitely his dominant other. Fortunately, he now spends less time dolorously searching for his mistress when her other duties call and, this weekend he has been left solely in my charge, as his chosen other ventured down to the south of the country for a couple of days and nights. Now, after 10 hours of Helen's absence he has just been casting a few longing glances at the door of the lounge but, then goes trotting around the garden, looking for possible sources of mischief. On returning to the house he welcomes my attention before checking out the door once more, anxiously awaiting his mistresses return.

These days I hate, almost fear, spending evenings and nights alone in the house, feeling rather vulnerable, due no doubt, at least in part to my sundry physical (and reactive emotional) ailments but, I'm sure that Piper's companionship will help.

HOUDINI HOUND - The PIPER Chronicles

HOUDINI HOUND brings on payback but provides much therapeutic HEALING – the PIPER chronicles

Wednesday night was a time of moderate payback for the additional (voluntary) exertion / exercise I’ve been taking since the adorable Piper came into my life. Generally though, the dog is proving almost miraculously therapeutic, enabling in me a calm which I’ve not experienced in more years than I care to remember, as well as taking longer walks than I’d been able to manage in the preceding 13 years.

The form the payback took was not at all conducive to sleep, not even of the far too prevalent non-refreshing variety. A simple flick of the bedsheet across the top of my toes, or even an individual digit, caused an unwitting flailing of lower limbs and a hard to suppress need to scream out a string of expletives. Big toes were overwhelmed with a throbbing ache, whilst the full complement of subservient digits tingled with what felt like a potent electrical charge.  During Thursday I experienced a not insignificant degree of confusion and reduced power of concentration.

To be perfectly honest, I’m quite relieved that the payback has remained relatively mild! Our little Piper seems quite sensitive towards my de-energized state of being, leaning in to me rather than demanding a deeper rough & tumble commitment.

I’m constantly amazed and charmed by Piper’s character and personality, especially the winning way in which he commands one’s attention and affection. The sudden burst of energy which emanates from an apparently dormant canine must cause terror in any feline character that dare trespass on his territory, his home patch. The vigorous way he wags his tail, when greeting his people, is a sight to behold – more like a full body shake. I’m pretty certain that a simple greeting, from Piper, expends far more energy than any (so called) long-life / heavy duty battery could ever produce!

His late night bounds into the garden will occasionally produce a basso profundo woof that belies the originators size! Sometimes it may be a feline intruder, which swiftly flees from his territory, at other times he’s somewhat bemused by the little sphere of spikes which appears as he approaches a strolling hedgehog. The boy seems to have an inbuilt hedgehog sensor and, as a result we’re discovering that our long term efforts at developing our garden a wildlife friendly environment is proving successful. On one occasion I observed a couple of juvenile hedgehogs, snuffling along, at one edge of the longer grass area whilst Piper found another source of interest at the opposite side of the same area. Quite remarkably he responded to my wilfully distracting call, made to lead him away from the juvenile ‘hogs path, as he came and trotted by my side, tail held aloft, back into the house.

After he’d found it possible to utilise a garden bench as a springboard, to surmount a quite high fence into our neighbours garden, an immediate re-siting of the planter laden bench was essential. The amazing thing is that he gave us a demonstration of how easily he’d managed this astounding feat shortly after returning home from the scene of his accomplishment.

The day following the great escape, Piper demonstrated, to yours truly, that with a clearer run-up to that section of fence he was already close to making another leap to freedom. Immediate DIY work was called for, as an old Mothercare fireguard was quickly dis-assembled and it’s component parts utilized to add additional height to that particular section of the fence. Our bundle of boundless energy has certainly brought much added colour and joy into our lives.

       

                             Piper tries out his new bed

Those who pay the Piper are made to follow his tune

It really is amazing how quickly the world, at least in one’s personal sphere, can be turned upside down and inside out. Less than two weeks ago Piper came to visit us and, different facets of his character seem to appear almost daily. Compared to his physical stature, 15 kilograms of energy – his personality is absolutely enormous, lets imagine it in weight – 1500 kg as a minimum!

It seems quite strange, to me at least, that a creature always so eager to please can at times prove even more stubborn than the proverbial mule! Piper knows his own mind, and, he’ll always jump at the least opportunity to turn our will into a mirror of his own desire. He has eyes that could melt the hardest of hearts and a mischievousness that entertains substantially more than it irritates. By now you may have guessed that I love him.

Alongside the love, there is a modicum of anxiety at the way he frets when my OH goes out of the house and, I start to wonder how he’ll react when she goes away for a couple of days. At least his little whine at the door as she departs, sans Piper of course, now dissipates rather quickly as he manages to attract my full attention. The settling down period also involves his desire to run upstairs, bound up on the bed and placing paws on the headboard as he looks out of the window for any sign of his mistresses person. The next step often involves placing his paws on my knees whilst I tickle and stroke him under his chin and the top of his chest.  Of course, he’s always on the lookout for treats having the appetite of a Desperate Dan (with his cow pies) and, proffers a downhearted look of dismay if a food treat is not forthcoming.

At present, I have a cast-iron resolve not to yield to his (innocent) greed; but he still loves me, I think. His bouts of apparently boundless energy are balanced with more than an equivalent amount of relaxation and sleep; admittedly I have little record of what occurs when his master and mistress are upstairs asleep. He quickly started to recognize my nocturnal routine, as I put on the outside light whilst he bounds, or slowly meanders, following a multitude of scents, around the garden.

My beloved, Helen, invariably heads off to the land of nod a little while before me, but once I start to switch off TV or radio and the aquarium light, he settles himself on the sofa, having first made a little nest out its sundry throws, but is sometimes distracted as he grabs and growlingly shakes a soft toy. Even then, as I move towards the door of the sitting room he casts a doleful glance my way before I switch off the light and wish him “good night”.

As well as the sofa, which he often shares with ma belle during the day, he occasionally has a penchant for my armchair, and thereby hangs a tale / tail! On Monday my beloved went out for an early evening meal, with her friend Hilary, at a time shortly before Piper’s feed time. As my beloved went out Piper seemed quite sleepily settled on their shared sofa. At that point I went through to the kitchen to prepare his evening feed, knowing he would dash through as soon as the food sounded into the bowl.

As he entered the kitchen he appeared to have a shamed look on his face, tail curled beneath him. This seemed most unusual as he’s usually so eager to ‘wolf’ down his food. Now I have to explain that I have a table beside my armchair, on which I keep and use, my laptop; on this table my beloved had left some buttered bread and a package containing Shropshire Blue cheese. As I moved back to the armchair I began to understand Piper’s signs of guilt, when I saw the cheese, now partially unwrapped, on the seat cushion of the armchair, the dairy product itself displayed some give-away canine (no, not human canine teeth) toothmarks. In a matter of a minute, the drowsy canine had moved across the room from sofa to armchair and found the proximity of,  cheese bearing, computer table to his olfactory organ overwhelming!

The day that the boy arrived, chez nous, Beth brought him (amongst other delights) a synthetic chewing bone with a tasty filling. During the following days it has been buried in gravel adjacent to the house, in previously compressed ground near to the summerhouse  and, in ground behind the large shed, In that bone he’d met his match; long lasting chews or Bonio biscuits are devoured almost as swiftly as they’re presented to him, but that bone really took a gnawing between the intermittent relocations.

Today, when Helen went out to the local shops, Piper came through to join me in the front room, before jumping on the sofa in the sitting room. Next thing, I noticed him bouncing upstairs, quite obviously to his lookout point to check on his mistresses whereabouts! When I heard a burst of growling woofs, emanating from the bedroom, I went upstairs to check on what was going on.

Piper was on the bed with his nose, snuffling away, underneath my pillow. Having told the boy to calm down, I lifted the pillow only to find the soil laden bone, and a generous selection of paw spread soil paintings on the undersheet.

 No doubt about it, a complete change of bed-linen was called for and the “buried treasure” has found its way into a waste disposal bin. There’s maybe more I could tell you but I’m beginning to tire; so I bid my readers a fond adieu.

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.

WEBSITE Disappears - VIRGIN MEDIA (surreptitiously) reduce package content!

Having been with Virgin Media since they took over NTL, I'm always being told what wonderful value we get from their packages! My response is that they talk considerable b*ll*cks! 

I've been so blinded by their exaggerations that I've only just discovered that I no longer have a website. 

If they told us about this in advance it must have been hidden in the small print amongst their usual promotional bullshit.

Shatteredness Conundrum

A SHATTEREDNESS CONUNDRUM


It's not so much the chicken and the egg as the pain or the tiredness.

Does weariness simply allow a latent pain to exaggerate it's presence or, is it the tired bodies vulnerability that allows a deep pain and discomfort to take hold? Today, a day of only minimal exertion, a sudden onset overwhelming sense of fatigue was swiftly subsumed into an entangling, nerve jangling, multiplicity of pains.

These acute pains, not the overly familiar dull aching wearying variety, swiftly took hold in ankles, knees, armpits and wrists.  The intense discomfort resulted in a sudden welling up, and gushing forth of tears; tears of frustration and, temporarily, despair.

I hate to take my pain medication other than when it's absolutely necessary although, I'm coming back to the notion that I should take the occasional pre-emptive dose as well. The problem then arises as to how I discern whether a lower or negligible level of pain is the result of this pre-emptive strike or, could it simply be a normal spasmodic reduction in pain level.

Garden Aspects

I always feel at peace with the world when I step out into our garden -

sometimes I even forget the copious nagging ailments 

that play such a (largely negative) part in my daily experience

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there are more snapshots - Apple Blossom Time chez nous - on Mal's Murmurings

https://malsword.wordpress.com/2016/06/01/apple-blossom-time-chez-nous/

restorative nature

Sitting in the summerhouse, listening to a trill (I could say a thrill) of tweets, croaks, piped and fulsome whistling song of the birds; all seems right with the world. This, after a most reluctant transformation from bed-dweller, lacking in self-affirmation, to house and garden roamer, seems nothing short of a miracle. Yesterdays emotions took quite a heavy toll on my preparedness for the new day and, indeed, little short of an overwhelming terrified sense of aloneness.

Performance of the most simple task began to feel like an insurmountable obstacle, but just as a (claustrophobic) fear of utilizing the new shower room can most likely be resolved by changing the door to open outwards rather than inwards, there are no doubt obvious solutions to other fears which, in any case, are not problems when my reserves of physical & emotional stamina are at their normal restricted plateau.

Anyway, the abundance of birdsong proffers a temporary renewal, and I enjoy watching the avian visitors to our various feeding stations. Lots of starlings from fledgling to mature, a goodly number of blackbirds and house sparrows, the occasional goldfinch and, this morning (a first for many months) a bullfinch, are among today’s visitors At least the feathered community travel to me; the only effort required from yours truly is to open my ears and eyes.

The Guilt of a Spoonie Wimp

Convulsive weeping, the pattern of my day; a sense of failure, weakness or betrayal, none of it makes sense! After weeks of feeling further under par, a decision to increase my dose of amitriptylene (up to now used to deal with some nocturnal discomfort) towards an anti-depressant level just made me feel worse. Persistent headache, intensified abdominal bloating & discomfort, loss of appetite (difficulty swallowing even), postural hypotension alongside a more general dizziness, all seemed to coincide with the increased dosage.

Recent weeks had seen a marked increase in my stress levels, as work on the new extension kitchen, dining room, and walk-in shower, dominated my conscious awareness of every day-time, and the added confusion of life in total disarray in other parts of the house proved more burdensome than either of us had anticipated.

Sleep and pain patterns have become even more erratic than usual but then, always at the back of my mind was a proposed visit to Worthing to celebrate the Golden Wedding Anniversary of my brother & sister in law, Dave & Janet. Having plucked up courage to book an hotel room, sometime last week, for a four night stay, the imminence of the travel became more real but, I felt the special nature of the occasion would somehow enable me to carry it through.

Today was to have been the day of travel (more like travail) – a journey of approx 6 hours duration – but although the car was packed with our case and rucksack, necessary medications having been packed last evening, the event was not to be. At present even the five to ten minute journey into town can seem like an arduous expedition so, I should have realized that this event was not to be. First mistake was removing myself from the duvet lair, after an all too familiar restless night, over an hour earlier than is my norm.

Wham, the enormity of the proposed venture hit home with pile-driver force; I would love to have been there for the celebrations but, my own wimpish nature resisted the travail. That’s when the tears got into full flow, a deep rooted feeling that I was really betraying my brother & sister-in-law, I began to wish I didn’t love them, that would have made it far easier to turn down the invitation. The vicious circle followed – yes, I should make the journey, no matter the deleterious effects that may have – no, I’d be foolish to travel but, that’s letting my brother down.

Sadly, the journey is not taking place, the sense of guilt weighs heavily. 

and warmth caresses

out of the kitchen and missing the heat

Although each hour, of each day, may seem to drag at present, it still amazes me how swiftly each year seems to pass. Most of the time each day has seemed to pass far to quickly, no sooner is one getting into it’s swing than tiredness sets in; gosh, I’m sounding like a real Grinch today.

The (current) absence of not only a functioning kitchen, but even sans kitchen sink, or even a single gas or electric hob, just seems to leave a hollow at the core of my being. Who would have thought that once, not too many years ago, I subsisted on a diet of predominantly microwaveable (so-called) meals; even in recent days, the cooking bug having for some time since had a hold of me, preparation has felt at times a chore too far, only reluctantly pursued. No working kitchen and an echoing void of proposed kitchen diner exuding its presence into the lounge, leaves one feeling achingly hollow.

I am indeed fortunate to have a roof over my head, a partner to love and be loved by, yet still I find temporary inconvenience a source of veering close to a state of reactive depression. It would be easy, of course, to blame my dispiritedness on my permanent condition of aches, pains, disorientation and unrefreshing sleep, which admittedly doesn’t help, but then I feel overwhelmed by guilt at my self pity. In a land where the government is determined to punish the poor, the  vulnerable and disabled in response to a crisis caused by their banker friends, what right have I to feel at all sorry for myself?    

The Common Cold - A Rare Event (an accidental posting)

Life goes on, recurrence of the old familiar aches, pains and dysfunctions (primarily ME related) nag me into acknowledgment of my presence in the material world. Don't get me wrong, whatever  ailments are thrown my way I still manage a smile, a laugh and, dare I say it, pure enjoyment and delight in the presence of my beloved.

The last few days I've been quite knocked out by a quite severe cold and, who knows, this may be a good sign - fingers crossed for the moment but I won't hold my breath; last time I had a real cold was best part of thirteen years ago. In 2003, a cold or flu-like symptoms seemed to accompany my every day, never materializing as a full-blown anything. Two thousand and three was also the year of my major collapse leading to an eventual ME diagnosis; in the meantime, whatever discomforts and anguish I've been heir to, a full blown cold has eluded me.

Actually I had no intention of writing a full post, just wanted to say that I've posted a brand new poem (both text only and illustrated version) on my Mal's Factory poetry weblog. It very much reflects the present ambience in which I have my being.

Link: http://malsfactory.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/twice-removed.html

A SLOW SLIDES JOURNEY INTO DAYMARE

A SLOW SLIDES JOURNEY INTO DAYMARE

Today would be best forgotten but, it’s my failure that I find it hard to forget, just as I find it almost insurmountably difficult to forgive. Much of today’s problems, other than the generally ongoing ME related ailments, emanate from the inappropriate prescribing by a certain medical professional. That GP I am unable to forgive.

This morning I was forced to emerge, from the duvet lair, a good

1 ¾  hrs earlier than is my norm, to keep a previously postponed appointment at the hospital’s orthoptics department. The morning, apart from my unearthly hours emergence into the day, was also greeted with a quite heavy snowfall.

Anyone who knows me, at all well, is all too aware of my difficulty with travel of any kind and, this morning’s short journey, following the main roads rather than our usual shortcuts, was one of following and being followed by skidding and stalling vehicles.  This was just like living through a nightmare for my sensitivities. At one point, even my beloved chauffeuse thought we’d maybe have to call the hospital to cancel the appointment, this time at much shorter notice. In spite of prior weather warnings of snowfall the responsible(!) authorities hadn’t bothered to grit the roads.

Whilst my beloved queued, waiting to access the hospital’s car park, I made my way to the relevant department. As I looked for the right place I wandered past the turning, having been told it was to the left, by a volunteer near reception, whereas it was actually to the right. Having ambled along the corridor a notice clearly stated that patients for Visual Fields Test should take a seat “here”, which I duly obeyed. Several minutes later a couple of hospital staff ambled by and asked if I was alright; I in turn informed them that I was waiting for the visual field test. Evidently I should have first reported to a reception staton some twenty to thirty yards further along the corridor.

By this time I urgently needed the loo, and had a bout of re-active diarrhoea, before entering the surgery. The clinician was quite concerned that my head felt so hot, and I explained how this wasn’t unusual as I could sweat in a freezing environment, my body thermostat being shattered / wildly erratic ever since succumbing to ME.

About halfway through the tests on my first eye I required a break as my chin and forehead were so uncomfortable, and I needed a drink of water before I continued. No sooner was the patch transferred to the other eye, and appropriate lens in place than I became quite headachy and totally incapable of concentrating as all spun around me. I informed the clinician that I wasn’t able to continue the test and also cancelled and discharged myself from tomorrows appointment with ophthalmology.

I simply cannot cope with early hours or concentrated attention. The appointments would not, in any case, have been necessary had my GP not messed haphazardly with my medication. [Earlier postings have already dealt with this situation]