About 4 and a half years ago I woke in the dead of the night from pain around my stomach/bottom centre of my ribs. Stomach pain and digestive pain isn't foreign to me however, I'd not experienced this before. It did feel somewhat similar to when I had gall stone attacks yet my gall badder was removed in 2008 so it obviously wasn't the issue.
I sat up for a bit hunched over while my partner at the time slept on. I got to the point very soon that i was in tears as the pain was quickly increasing. By the time he woke I was doubled over in pain and gasping at breath.
Straight to the hospital emergency department I went. Little did I know at the time, this was to become a very familiar occurrence.
In order to reduce my pain and discomfort they administered morphine.
I've not had morphine before. I get that horrible cramping pain feeling run through my veins for a 10 or so seconds the moment it enters my system. (apparently that's quite common), then the world seems to go a little fuzzy! It's certainly not a feeling i would say I enjoy yet it's the only form of pain relief that works when I'm in such pain.
This first attack saw me in hospital a little over a week nil by mouth whilst they prodded poked and scanned every part of my torso they could. I was left with no answers as to what had caused the pain. By this point the pain had subsided and home I went.
A referral to a gastroenterologist was made (the doctors earliest appointment isn't for another 6 weeks, says every receptionist everywhere) and in the meantime good luck! yup the doctor at the hospital actually said "good luck"!
Rather than drag on through each episode/attack I suffered I will say in short, the pain attacks became more frequent. My gastro dude came to the conclusion that I have, wait for it because its a ripper of a title, 'Dysfunctional Sphincter of Oddi Disorder'.
Have you finished laughing yet?
Alright, that'll do, I know what you are thinking as everyone thinks it, Nope, not my ass, that is not dysfunctional, other things yes, dysfunctional no. well not yet anyhow.
basically the pancreas has an area referred to as the sphincter of oddi. named after some dude, so and so Oddi. and mine does not function as it should hence, dysfunctional.
This sphincter is a muscle and it allows the enzymes your pancreas produces along with bile to enter into the stomach and work their magic. My muscle cramps up like you wouldn't believe. I am left with no option other than the emergency room and strong pain killers which help me relax.
Again another long story short, I spent 2 years trying every medicine and option to fix this problem other than surgery as surgery is quite risky. Noting worked.
I end up at a major hospital a few hours away from home to have this rare and risky surgery, not once but twice! the first surgery wasn't without pre op complications and pain! An extended stay in hospital and more of the horrible pain meds. eventually i'm home. This seemed to work for around 6 months, then out of the blue I have the worst attack ever yet.
Saturday, 7 November 2015
Monday, 2 November 2015
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? (oh yes, the spice girls song)
Some days I get caught up on the thought of how people see me. Not as in, what type of person I am, actually physically, how they see me.
I always look at other women comparing them to myself. I look at them and think she has hair like mine, or I wonder if my legs look like that.
How do they see my face. When you know someone so well that you see them differently than if you passed them in the street they change right?
It's not a self loathing of any sorts it's basic curiosity i guess.
It bends my mind. I would love to be someone else and meet me and hang out.
Imagine what you would learn about yourself. I'm sure there are not so great aspects to this such as seeing an expression on your face and thinking 'Don't ever do that again!'.
Kids see us big people differently also. They are blunt and matter of fact with their observations. We have all heard the story where the kid points out a fat person really loudly and how embarrassing it is. well perhaps we should all be more obvious.
I love complimenting strangers on something I like. Such as their perfume or clothes. It feels great to give a compliment with no intent behind it. Surely the person receiving the compliment will feel better.
The there is those people that you are positive they have no mirror in their house nor a reflective surface as if they had seen themselves there is no way they'd have left home. Would it be appropriate to mention to them why they look so unfitting. It can be polite. I like your jacket but it really doesn't match with your pants? I suppose not.
Well I for one would be happy to have my misgivings pointed out to me. I'm pretty sure my friends know this. However I do take way to long deciding what to wear most days so that this never happens.
Over thinking. It's crippling isn't it!!
I always look at other women comparing them to myself. I look at them and think she has hair like mine, or I wonder if my legs look like that.
How do they see my face. When you know someone so well that you see them differently than if you passed them in the street they change right?
It's not a self loathing of any sorts it's basic curiosity i guess.
It bends my mind. I would love to be someone else and meet me and hang out.
Imagine what you would learn about yourself. I'm sure there are not so great aspects to this such as seeing an expression on your face and thinking 'Don't ever do that again!'.
Kids see us big people differently also. They are blunt and matter of fact with their observations. We have all heard the story where the kid points out a fat person really loudly and how embarrassing it is. well perhaps we should all be more obvious.
I love complimenting strangers on something I like. Such as their perfume or clothes. It feels great to give a compliment with no intent behind it. Surely the person receiving the compliment will feel better.
The there is those people that you are positive they have no mirror in their house nor a reflective surface as if they had seen themselves there is no way they'd have left home. Would it be appropriate to mention to them why they look so unfitting. It can be polite. I like your jacket but it really doesn't match with your pants? I suppose not.
Well I for one would be happy to have my misgivings pointed out to me. I'm pretty sure my friends know this. However I do take way to long deciding what to wear most days so that this never happens.
Over thinking. It's crippling isn't it!!
Tuesday, 27 October 2015
SOMETIMES THE ANSWER IS AS SIMPLE AS A PIECE OF CHOCOLATE
Please watch this link. It's a phenomenal story and sent tingles down my spine and tears to my eyes.
https://www.facebook.com/humanthemovie/videos/474883142683549/
I would love to hear your opinion on this story and have my own but I won't write anything yet as I don't want to spoil the story before you have watched it raw.
So add comments!!
Saturday, 24 October 2015
DISSECTION OF A MARRIAGE
So I had a husband once and now I don't.
This is a good thing. Although this may come across as a sad tale, I've learnt some invaluable lessons about people, relationships and myself.
I'm still trying to figure out how to put these lessons to good use but hey, I'll get there eventually.
So I met my husband when I was 16. We dated for around a month and it didn't go anywhere from there. We lost contact till i was 21. We bumped into each other through mutual friends at a concert. He tracked me down and asked me to dinner. At this point in my life I had really on had 2 boyfriends, was very interested in having one and starting a family etc. (Not as soon as it did all happen)
I knew from a very early age that I wanted to be married and have kids. I wasn't looking to shack up with the first man I met but I was in love with love and wanted it to be part of my future. I, like most girls, dreamt of a man that would hold my hand, constantly tell me he loved me. Support me in my dreams as I would in his and really, be a successful team together in this game of life.
My husband when I met him, was a tradesman, owned a house at 22, came from a seemingly nice family that were comfortable like my own. It only took about two weeks for him to ask me to be his girlfriend. It was right before Christmas and I lived in a share house. My parents were moving out of town and I was going to rent there house but I needed to find someone to help share the rent to offset their rent.
It had been around 5 weeks and he suggested that it was silly if we both were paying for places and said he should move in with me. He told me he loved me, wanted to have my children. It was full on from the start. Don't think for a moment that I wasn't hesitating about this and that I didn't see how soon it was all happening. I debated with myself that I should wait, I don't know him that well. However, lack of a suitable flatmate caused me to say yes to him. So, he moved in.
Things were pretty smooth the first month or so. It was my birthday that weekend and we were heading up to see my parents. I'd had a rotten day at work and, I know this but can't control it always, I have a short temper. I get over things just as quickly as they bother me though. So we had some little squabble about him not having things ready to go that I'd asked. I snapped, he snapped then we set off for a 6 hour drive. I went about things as if it wasn't a big deal, because to be honest, it wasn't. He didn't share the same view. about an hour into the drive when i realised he was being very short with me I asked him what was wrong. Nothing. again I probed. this resulted in him almost shouting that nothing was wrong and referring to me as a dickhead. We spent the next 5 hours with him giving me the silent treatment and me holding back tears.
The rest of the weekend was awkward and uncomfortable. He was rude to my parents and didn't want to involve himself in anything.
Now, you would expect me to say that I came home from the weekend and broke up with him. But as you are aware we were married so that obviously didn't happen. I'm a forgiving person and was still trying to figure him out i guess.
The rest of the year was a roller coaster of tip toeing around his moods and silent treatments. Work kept me busy. I also felt somewhat trapped by the fact we lived together. It wasn't as simple as just breaking up and not seeing each other again. (thought 21 year old Ellie).
After Christmas had just passed I found myself pregnant. we had talked about having kids etc. and both agreed we wanted to. We weren't trying but we weren't that careful about not becoming pregnant either.
We had a last holiday together before baby. We went to a little island which was so beautiful for the first few days. He explained that there is some epic fishing spot around the head of the island and to get there we only needed to kayak across the bay and walk around the rocks. Don't forget I'm around 3/4 months pregnant. We kayaked to the rocky part. They were indeed rocks, above a 2 meter drop straight down to deep water with waves crashing against the wall of rock at the bottom. The ledge, sort of carved i guess, to navigate around a big corner and reach this 'epic' spot was as wide as two feet placed tightly together.
I don't do heights on a good day. I balked. Said there was no way I could do it. I offered to stay on the small beach like area and hang out till he'd finished fishing. He started abusing me and calling me all names and that I was stupid for being scared nothing was going to happen. This was the whole reason he wanted to come on the holiday etc. I by this point was in tears. He stomped back to the kayak and I cried while paddling the whole way back across the bay. I think it was two days before he spoke to me again.
Obviously you know what we went through before the baby, with his stroke as I've already posted that story so I won't bore you with it again. Things were very tense between families and us after that ordeal but our daughter was sensational and just the sunshine in my life.
I hated the idea of having a child together and having to call him 'my boyfriend'. I suppose I'm a little old school that way. So looking back now I'm pretty sure I put a fair bit of pressure on him to get married or at least be engaged. But to explain, I loved him, our daughter and the dogs. I wanted us to be a family properly to show that love, not because I cared what people would think. In my mind, if we had a kid together and he loved me, doesn't it only make sense that he would want to marry me and be proud to say I'm his wife?
we got engaged and were happy enough for a while, that wore off a little as everything does though. The tension around my parents who would often come and stay to see us (probably their granddaughter and not us! but I'll let that slide) was just horrible and draining on me. the silent treatment would go on for days. He would not try with our daughter or me. I kept waiting for him to be engaged in our life and love coming home to us at the end of the day rather than being surly and complain he should be fishing not working.
Sympathy and empathy towards him after everything he went through was something he played on big time. I felt proud of him for going through what he did and being okay. proud of us. Not a lot of people come out the other end after such a traumatic experience but we did. So I forgave his misguided approach to our relationship and fatherhood.
I clearly remember waking up the morning of our wedding and thinking to myself, I DO NOT want to marry this man. He takes everything from me and gives nothing. The pressure of the money spent, the guests that had arrived in town, the embarrassment it would cause and the fear of being alone squashed these thoughts, I also convinced my self it was just wedding day jitters and I continued through the day with a smile. It wasn't magical. I didn't cry tears of joy on the day. He never even once said I love you or you look beautiful. Later years in counselling he confessed he checked out half way through the day and it was all a load of shit. Nice. And still I didn't divorce him at that point.
I think you have to understand that it's very easy to hear these stories and think what was I thinking and why on earth did I put up with this behaviour. When you are living the situation and it's a day to day experience, you have a different perspective on things. you also have strong emotions. He promised time and time again he would try and would act the way I needed. (Which wasn't that big of a thing, I just wanted a hello how was your day and him to show some affection.)
Our honeymoon was a week after the wedding. My first time away from our daughter besides a night here or there. So that in itself was difficult. The day didn't start well as I stupidly read the arrival time of our first flight as the departure time which meant we missed our once a day connecting flight. I know I'm hopeless. But, I was trying to see the humour in it and we couldn't change the situation so why not laugh about it right? Nope. we still flew to the city and were placed on a flight the following day. My parents lived in the city. Just stay with us they laughed. We'll pick you up and drop you to the airport tomorrow it's not that far. Yes, that's awesome! would be my response. Again Nope! We had to stay in a shitty motel, with a window that wouldn't open and aircon blasting all night. Yes, he refused to stay at my parents who had only a week earlier forked out about 15 grand for our wedding.
The next morning he woke up sick. we finally arrive at our honeymoon. I was so excited, but the whole thing was a disaster, one of those, it didn't look like this in the brochure experiences. again, I saw the funny side. He decided he was going to go to bed. and sleep. So I sipped the complimentary champagne and ate some cheese. alone.
we fought a few times on the honeymoon and over all had a really shit holiday. Day three I was in tears missing our daughter and he told me to get over it. Clearly he wasn't missing her.
A few weeks after the honeymoon we discovered I was again pregnant. After everything that had happened the first time, it was in my eyes a chance to do it like everyone else and experience everything normally. that was really exciting for me. Our daughter was still the perfect child and my little best friend I was overjoyed at creating another human like her. (I did by the way, just for the record!)
I was around 6 months pregnant with a sizable belly due to having gestational diabetes. Dad was visiting and staying in the single bed in the spare room. husband had been at work all day and came home with the usual arrogance that had become normal to me. He was giving one word answers to my father and ignoring my daughter instead watching the tv. Before bed my daughter started vomiting, she was still in a cot at this stage. It was just one of those yucky bugs but due to her age I didn't want to leave her alone in her cot in case she chocked on her own sick or got worse. Normal I'd have thought for a parent. I just figured she would seep with us. He protested strongly and said there was no way she was in our bed as he had to work the next day and wouldn't sleep with her. The poor darling husbands sleep was obviously more important right?!
He proceeded to tell me he'd blow up a mattress for me. So I spent the night with a really ill kid sleeping on a shitty air bead which rested every movement of mine onto tiles underneath. He and his mother saw no problem with this behaviour at all. For fear of starting a massive fight dad didn't say anything at the time, He wishes he had now.
We decided that the house we had was to small so bought some land and proceeded to build a new home. I loved every minute of building and would do it 10 times again given the chance. we moved into the house in November two weeks before I had my second (Spoiler alert) daughter. Busy time of year for tradesmen I know but heck, I'm a whale and have a 2 year old so a little bit of help wouldn't go astray. I managed to unpack and set up the entire house alone before having her. Nesting hormones were obviously in overdrive.
I had a complicated birth and stayed in hospital around 6 days. It was Saturday night and bub was being really difficult. the nurses had taken her to give me a break and given me some pain killers for, well, the pain! It was around 3 am when I awoke to a blaring siren and a voice over the speaker system calling code something. Petrified my instinct was to get my baby. I waked out of my room and the emergency fired doors had closed. Without checking them (Like a sane person would have) I went back to my room and cried. I was in my defence full of drugs and hormones. I called the nurse. everything was fine someone had accidentally opened a door which tripped the alarm. they returned my baby and fed me tea and toast. I didn't sleep again. I waited till about 6:30am and rang my husband in tears. I told him what had happened and just said it's time for me to come home. I just want to come home could you please come and get me?
No way, I've got to work was his response, I tried again to explain how upset I was and that I wanted to go home, he could just drop me home then go to work. pleading with him at this point, he told me to fuck off and he'd come and get me when he was ready. Well that was enough for me, he'd already hung up on me so I dialled mum and dad and told them if they didn't get me now I'd call a taxi. They were there in ten minutes.
After leaving hospital, My other daughter fell ill that afternoon. Doctors confirmed she had hand foot and mouth (impetigo) not serious to her but potentially fatal to a new born and I could pass it onto her so my daughter was quarantined at my parents for a week. It felt like she was dead (dramatic and I mean no disrespect to anyone as I'm aware it wasn't that drastic but with a new born and hormones and her lack of ability to talk on the phone and a husband that was being an ass that's how it felt) She became so ill with mouth ulcers she ended up at the hospital. She came good not long after that and was finally home. My parents had recently quit their job/life in the city to come home and support me as they could see how bad things were in my marriage.
I can't even remember the exact reason why anymore but another fight and bout of silence lead me to need some space from him and move to my parents with my two kids as I knew he wouldn't leave if I asked him to give me some space. So I gave him a very detailed letter about my concerns of our relationship, kindly told him that without a change this couldn't continue. after about 4 days he reluctantly promised to change and work towards things getting better. He didn't beg me to come home or make a grand gesture of any sorts. It was a really sad existence for me in this marriage.
By this point, I had hardly any friends as he had managed to find fault in all of them and turned me away from them. Some being great friends which I will never have again and feel very sad about.
Life kind of just plodded along. I was so busy with the kids and so accustomed to his shit that most of the time I ignored it. This really made things worse I think now looking back. He didn't like that I was a strong person and didn't need him or bow down to him. I spent most of my days with the kids at my parents just to get away from my life. we were living in a small outer town of where I live now and to where my parents are so once we were at mums we were there for most of the day. I'd arrive home not long before him and so the house wan't always as neat as it could be, he'd attack me verbally about being a slob and lazy and if I wasn't going to keep HIS house clean I should go to work instead of him and he would do it.
I'm pretty certain now that I was heavily depressed but him not caring one iota about me and me battling with two kids and really him acting like a third i didn't really notice.
I fell pregnant again. I had really conflicting feelings about it. Of course I wanted this baby, who wouldn't after having two amazing ones already. Our relationship was already shit though and hanging by a thread in my eyes. He was working away in another town as there was no work here so our relationship was spasmodic at best. We had lengthy discussions, no that's not true, I had lengthy monologues and he would insert a few words here or there as to having this baby. But to simplify it, If we have this baby, shit has got to change. No one is happy right now living the way we are and I refuse to bring a baby into this family if it won't change. If we choose not to have this baby, that's it. No more kids. We don't get to pick and choose when is convenient to have kids. I'm happy he chose to say we would try and fix things and I'm fairly sure I couldn't have gone through with an abortion but it all needed to be said for him to understand the gravity of the situation.
So he promised, and i think he tried for a little while but here's the thing. You can't make someone change. If they want to change and try to be a better or different person for you or anyone, it has to come from them. forcing them or giving an ultimatum doesn't work.
My boy was a cesarean after such a rough trot the last labour and to avoid any more damage to my lady parts. It all went smooth and he was a healthy 9 pound. I chose to tie my tubes at this point as three pregnancies was enough for my body.
We played nice for some time and then the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) happened. We couldn't keep up with the mortgage payments on our house and reluctantly sold it. We moved back into town and into an older house. My youngest was 6 months. In order to pay for that house, husband started working away again. From then till Christmas he was home every 2nd or 3rd weekend. This was his undoing I guess. I realised very quickly that I was more than capable of doing this adult thing and be a parent on my own. The kids were happier when he was away as we couldn't fight all the time. Christmas saw him home for a few weeks. The day before my sons birthday we had a ridiculous fight and he was accusing me of being all sorts of nasty things as far as mental illness goes and saying I was a bludger because I wouldn't put my kids in child care to work. I had strong opinions about this as far as my own kids go (not everyone can afford this luxury i know) and he was in agreement with me at the beginning of our relationship. Pretty sure his parents had a good hand in changing his mind. anyhow, that was it for me. I was done. The strangest part about the day is I wasn't even that angry. I wasn't insanely crying or screaming at him to leave. I was calm and told him straight to his face. You need to leave. I am done with you and this marriage. I refuse to be treated this way anymore and and I won't be.
Simple as that. in a very complicated way.
I have not once at any moment since then thought perhaps I did the wrong thing divorcing him. That is a very comfortable thing for me. It has caused other problems of course with the kids. But divorcing this man was the best decision I've made to fix the worst decision i made.
This is a good thing. Although this may come across as a sad tale, I've learnt some invaluable lessons about people, relationships and myself.
I'm still trying to figure out how to put these lessons to good use but hey, I'll get there eventually.
So I met my husband when I was 16. We dated for around a month and it didn't go anywhere from there. We lost contact till i was 21. We bumped into each other through mutual friends at a concert. He tracked me down and asked me to dinner. At this point in my life I had really on had 2 boyfriends, was very interested in having one and starting a family etc. (Not as soon as it did all happen)
I knew from a very early age that I wanted to be married and have kids. I wasn't looking to shack up with the first man I met but I was in love with love and wanted it to be part of my future. I, like most girls, dreamt of a man that would hold my hand, constantly tell me he loved me. Support me in my dreams as I would in his and really, be a successful team together in this game of life.
My husband when I met him, was a tradesman, owned a house at 22, came from a seemingly nice family that were comfortable like my own. It only took about two weeks for him to ask me to be his girlfriend. It was right before Christmas and I lived in a share house. My parents were moving out of town and I was going to rent there house but I needed to find someone to help share the rent to offset their rent.
It had been around 5 weeks and he suggested that it was silly if we both were paying for places and said he should move in with me. He told me he loved me, wanted to have my children. It was full on from the start. Don't think for a moment that I wasn't hesitating about this and that I didn't see how soon it was all happening. I debated with myself that I should wait, I don't know him that well. However, lack of a suitable flatmate caused me to say yes to him. So, he moved in.
Things were pretty smooth the first month or so. It was my birthday that weekend and we were heading up to see my parents. I'd had a rotten day at work and, I know this but can't control it always, I have a short temper. I get over things just as quickly as they bother me though. So we had some little squabble about him not having things ready to go that I'd asked. I snapped, he snapped then we set off for a 6 hour drive. I went about things as if it wasn't a big deal, because to be honest, it wasn't. He didn't share the same view. about an hour into the drive when i realised he was being very short with me I asked him what was wrong. Nothing. again I probed. this resulted in him almost shouting that nothing was wrong and referring to me as a dickhead. We spent the next 5 hours with him giving me the silent treatment and me holding back tears.
The rest of the weekend was awkward and uncomfortable. He was rude to my parents and didn't want to involve himself in anything.
Now, you would expect me to say that I came home from the weekend and broke up with him. But as you are aware we were married so that obviously didn't happen. I'm a forgiving person and was still trying to figure him out i guess.
The rest of the year was a roller coaster of tip toeing around his moods and silent treatments. Work kept me busy. I also felt somewhat trapped by the fact we lived together. It wasn't as simple as just breaking up and not seeing each other again. (thought 21 year old Ellie).
After Christmas had just passed I found myself pregnant. we had talked about having kids etc. and both agreed we wanted to. We weren't trying but we weren't that careful about not becoming pregnant either.
We had a last holiday together before baby. We went to a little island which was so beautiful for the first few days. He explained that there is some epic fishing spot around the head of the island and to get there we only needed to kayak across the bay and walk around the rocks. Don't forget I'm around 3/4 months pregnant. We kayaked to the rocky part. They were indeed rocks, above a 2 meter drop straight down to deep water with waves crashing against the wall of rock at the bottom. The ledge, sort of carved i guess, to navigate around a big corner and reach this 'epic' spot was as wide as two feet placed tightly together.
I don't do heights on a good day. I balked. Said there was no way I could do it. I offered to stay on the small beach like area and hang out till he'd finished fishing. He started abusing me and calling me all names and that I was stupid for being scared nothing was going to happen. This was the whole reason he wanted to come on the holiday etc. I by this point was in tears. He stomped back to the kayak and I cried while paddling the whole way back across the bay. I think it was two days before he spoke to me again.
Obviously you know what we went through before the baby, with his stroke as I've already posted that story so I won't bore you with it again. Things were very tense between families and us after that ordeal but our daughter was sensational and just the sunshine in my life.
I hated the idea of having a child together and having to call him 'my boyfriend'. I suppose I'm a little old school that way. So looking back now I'm pretty sure I put a fair bit of pressure on him to get married or at least be engaged. But to explain, I loved him, our daughter and the dogs. I wanted us to be a family properly to show that love, not because I cared what people would think. In my mind, if we had a kid together and he loved me, doesn't it only make sense that he would want to marry me and be proud to say I'm his wife?
we got engaged and were happy enough for a while, that wore off a little as everything does though. The tension around my parents who would often come and stay to see us (probably their granddaughter and not us! but I'll let that slide) was just horrible and draining on me. the silent treatment would go on for days. He would not try with our daughter or me. I kept waiting for him to be engaged in our life and love coming home to us at the end of the day rather than being surly and complain he should be fishing not working.
Sympathy and empathy towards him after everything he went through was something he played on big time. I felt proud of him for going through what he did and being okay. proud of us. Not a lot of people come out the other end after such a traumatic experience but we did. So I forgave his misguided approach to our relationship and fatherhood.
I clearly remember waking up the morning of our wedding and thinking to myself, I DO NOT want to marry this man. He takes everything from me and gives nothing. The pressure of the money spent, the guests that had arrived in town, the embarrassment it would cause and the fear of being alone squashed these thoughts, I also convinced my self it was just wedding day jitters and I continued through the day with a smile. It wasn't magical. I didn't cry tears of joy on the day. He never even once said I love you or you look beautiful. Later years in counselling he confessed he checked out half way through the day and it was all a load of shit. Nice. And still I didn't divorce him at that point.
I think you have to understand that it's very easy to hear these stories and think what was I thinking and why on earth did I put up with this behaviour. When you are living the situation and it's a day to day experience, you have a different perspective on things. you also have strong emotions. He promised time and time again he would try and would act the way I needed. (Which wasn't that big of a thing, I just wanted a hello how was your day and him to show some affection.)
Our honeymoon was a week after the wedding. My first time away from our daughter besides a night here or there. So that in itself was difficult. The day didn't start well as I stupidly read the arrival time of our first flight as the departure time which meant we missed our once a day connecting flight. I know I'm hopeless. But, I was trying to see the humour in it and we couldn't change the situation so why not laugh about it right? Nope. we still flew to the city and were placed on a flight the following day. My parents lived in the city. Just stay with us they laughed. We'll pick you up and drop you to the airport tomorrow it's not that far. Yes, that's awesome! would be my response. Again Nope! We had to stay in a shitty motel, with a window that wouldn't open and aircon blasting all night. Yes, he refused to stay at my parents who had only a week earlier forked out about 15 grand for our wedding.
The next morning he woke up sick. we finally arrive at our honeymoon. I was so excited, but the whole thing was a disaster, one of those, it didn't look like this in the brochure experiences. again, I saw the funny side. He decided he was going to go to bed. and sleep. So I sipped the complimentary champagne and ate some cheese. alone.
we fought a few times on the honeymoon and over all had a really shit holiday. Day three I was in tears missing our daughter and he told me to get over it. Clearly he wasn't missing her.
A few weeks after the honeymoon we discovered I was again pregnant. After everything that had happened the first time, it was in my eyes a chance to do it like everyone else and experience everything normally. that was really exciting for me. Our daughter was still the perfect child and my little best friend I was overjoyed at creating another human like her. (I did by the way, just for the record!)
I was around 6 months pregnant with a sizable belly due to having gestational diabetes. Dad was visiting and staying in the single bed in the spare room. husband had been at work all day and came home with the usual arrogance that had become normal to me. He was giving one word answers to my father and ignoring my daughter instead watching the tv. Before bed my daughter started vomiting, she was still in a cot at this stage. It was just one of those yucky bugs but due to her age I didn't want to leave her alone in her cot in case she chocked on her own sick or got worse. Normal I'd have thought for a parent. I just figured she would seep with us. He protested strongly and said there was no way she was in our bed as he had to work the next day and wouldn't sleep with her. The poor darling husbands sleep was obviously more important right?!
He proceeded to tell me he'd blow up a mattress for me. So I spent the night with a really ill kid sleeping on a shitty air bead which rested every movement of mine onto tiles underneath. He and his mother saw no problem with this behaviour at all. For fear of starting a massive fight dad didn't say anything at the time, He wishes he had now.
We decided that the house we had was to small so bought some land and proceeded to build a new home. I loved every minute of building and would do it 10 times again given the chance. we moved into the house in November two weeks before I had my second (Spoiler alert) daughter. Busy time of year for tradesmen I know but heck, I'm a whale and have a 2 year old so a little bit of help wouldn't go astray. I managed to unpack and set up the entire house alone before having her. Nesting hormones were obviously in overdrive.
I had a complicated birth and stayed in hospital around 6 days. It was Saturday night and bub was being really difficult. the nurses had taken her to give me a break and given me some pain killers for, well, the pain! It was around 3 am when I awoke to a blaring siren and a voice over the speaker system calling code something. Petrified my instinct was to get my baby. I waked out of my room and the emergency fired doors had closed. Without checking them (Like a sane person would have) I went back to my room and cried. I was in my defence full of drugs and hormones. I called the nurse. everything was fine someone had accidentally opened a door which tripped the alarm. they returned my baby and fed me tea and toast. I didn't sleep again. I waited till about 6:30am and rang my husband in tears. I told him what had happened and just said it's time for me to come home. I just want to come home could you please come and get me?
No way, I've got to work was his response, I tried again to explain how upset I was and that I wanted to go home, he could just drop me home then go to work. pleading with him at this point, he told me to fuck off and he'd come and get me when he was ready. Well that was enough for me, he'd already hung up on me so I dialled mum and dad and told them if they didn't get me now I'd call a taxi. They were there in ten minutes.
After leaving hospital, My other daughter fell ill that afternoon. Doctors confirmed she had hand foot and mouth (impetigo) not serious to her but potentially fatal to a new born and I could pass it onto her so my daughter was quarantined at my parents for a week. It felt like she was dead (dramatic and I mean no disrespect to anyone as I'm aware it wasn't that drastic but with a new born and hormones and her lack of ability to talk on the phone and a husband that was being an ass that's how it felt) She became so ill with mouth ulcers she ended up at the hospital. She came good not long after that and was finally home. My parents had recently quit their job/life in the city to come home and support me as they could see how bad things were in my marriage.
I can't even remember the exact reason why anymore but another fight and bout of silence lead me to need some space from him and move to my parents with my two kids as I knew he wouldn't leave if I asked him to give me some space. So I gave him a very detailed letter about my concerns of our relationship, kindly told him that without a change this couldn't continue. after about 4 days he reluctantly promised to change and work towards things getting better. He didn't beg me to come home or make a grand gesture of any sorts. It was a really sad existence for me in this marriage.
By this point, I had hardly any friends as he had managed to find fault in all of them and turned me away from them. Some being great friends which I will never have again and feel very sad about.
Life kind of just plodded along. I was so busy with the kids and so accustomed to his shit that most of the time I ignored it. This really made things worse I think now looking back. He didn't like that I was a strong person and didn't need him or bow down to him. I spent most of my days with the kids at my parents just to get away from my life. we were living in a small outer town of where I live now and to where my parents are so once we were at mums we were there for most of the day. I'd arrive home not long before him and so the house wan't always as neat as it could be, he'd attack me verbally about being a slob and lazy and if I wasn't going to keep HIS house clean I should go to work instead of him and he would do it.
I'm pretty certain now that I was heavily depressed but him not caring one iota about me and me battling with two kids and really him acting like a third i didn't really notice.
I fell pregnant again. I had really conflicting feelings about it. Of course I wanted this baby, who wouldn't after having two amazing ones already. Our relationship was already shit though and hanging by a thread in my eyes. He was working away in another town as there was no work here so our relationship was spasmodic at best. We had lengthy discussions, no that's not true, I had lengthy monologues and he would insert a few words here or there as to having this baby. But to simplify it, If we have this baby, shit has got to change. No one is happy right now living the way we are and I refuse to bring a baby into this family if it won't change. If we choose not to have this baby, that's it. No more kids. We don't get to pick and choose when is convenient to have kids. I'm happy he chose to say we would try and fix things and I'm fairly sure I couldn't have gone through with an abortion but it all needed to be said for him to understand the gravity of the situation.
So he promised, and i think he tried for a little while but here's the thing. You can't make someone change. If they want to change and try to be a better or different person for you or anyone, it has to come from them. forcing them or giving an ultimatum doesn't work.
My boy was a cesarean after such a rough trot the last labour and to avoid any more damage to my lady parts. It all went smooth and he was a healthy 9 pound. I chose to tie my tubes at this point as three pregnancies was enough for my body.
We played nice for some time and then the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) happened. We couldn't keep up with the mortgage payments on our house and reluctantly sold it. We moved back into town and into an older house. My youngest was 6 months. In order to pay for that house, husband started working away again. From then till Christmas he was home every 2nd or 3rd weekend. This was his undoing I guess. I realised very quickly that I was more than capable of doing this adult thing and be a parent on my own. The kids were happier when he was away as we couldn't fight all the time. Christmas saw him home for a few weeks. The day before my sons birthday we had a ridiculous fight and he was accusing me of being all sorts of nasty things as far as mental illness goes and saying I was a bludger because I wouldn't put my kids in child care to work. I had strong opinions about this as far as my own kids go (not everyone can afford this luxury i know) and he was in agreement with me at the beginning of our relationship. Pretty sure his parents had a good hand in changing his mind. anyhow, that was it for me. I was done. The strangest part about the day is I wasn't even that angry. I wasn't insanely crying or screaming at him to leave. I was calm and told him straight to his face. You need to leave. I am done with you and this marriage. I refuse to be treated this way anymore and and I won't be.
Simple as that. in a very complicated way.
I have not once at any moment since then thought perhaps I did the wrong thing divorcing him. That is a very comfortable thing for me. It has caused other problems of course with the kids. But divorcing this man was the best decision I've made to fix the worst decision i made.
Friday, 23 October 2015
"I DON'T THINK…" THEN YOU SHOULDN'T TALK SAID THE HATTER."
Forced sobriety certainly sifts through your friends pretty damn quickly.
Illness scares people away.
People aren't intentionally mean or hurtful.
I am sick physically most days and mentally others.
Don't stop inviting me places because I often cancel. Don't stop calling me because I sometimes don't answer. Please be patient with me as I need you right now.
Its not you its me. REALLY!
It's hard to have a chronic illness that no one can see. It's hard to smile when you are in pain.
It's hard to go out and enjoy yourself when you are always worried about being sick.
It's even harder to do this alone.
Call your friends when you think of them. Text them, send them a message on Facebook.
A quick hello or I'm thinking of you can change someones entire day.
This has been a public service announcement. Please note, no animals were hurt in the making of this post.
Illness scares people away.
People aren't intentionally mean or hurtful.
I am sick physically most days and mentally others.
Don't stop inviting me places because I often cancel. Don't stop calling me because I sometimes don't answer. Please be patient with me as I need you right now.
Its not you its me. REALLY!
It's hard to have a chronic illness that no one can see. It's hard to smile when you are in pain.
It's hard to go out and enjoy yourself when you are always worried about being sick.
It's even harder to do this alone.
Call your friends when you think of them. Text them, send them a message on Facebook.
A quick hello or I'm thinking of you can change someones entire day.
This has been a public service announcement. Please note, no animals were hurt in the making of this post.
Monday, 19 October 2015
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE AN EMOJI
Dear diary,
I know, its been a while since I've put pen to paper hasn't it?
But you have to understand, life with an iPhone is so much easier than writing in a diary every day.
It allows me to use emojis (these little symbols that express exactly how your feeling, a sad face when you are sad, a scrunched up face when you feel like you have made a mistake, and my favourite, a smiling poo!)
But, and this is hard for me to write, i smashed the screen.
It was an accident, I swear!! The guilt i felt inside was unmeasurable and alas, the damage was not only on the surface.
Siri, my friend, well, her voice went all masculine, like a man trying to be a women but you can still tell she's a man.
Its been 5 hours and 38 minutes since I departed from my iPhone, or as I prefer to call it, 'my life'.
I miss the updates when all my lives in candy crush have been restored, the sweet whistle it makes when I have a message, oh and to hear an alert again when I match with someone on tinder. The sound is ringing in my memory… trling…ing…ing..ing.
If I was texting you, my diary, this is where I would insert a sad smiley face with a tear.
I don't know how long my dearly beloved will be away getting fixed, or if for that matter, it can be fixed. (again sad smiley face x2)
The next week will be a test of character, will I cope, I honestly don't know!
I'm trying to stay strong. Only time and perhaps a new shiny iPhone will heal my pain.
I can't write anymore as its to upsetting.
hopefully, you will hear from me again, if my heart heals.
I know, its been a while since I've put pen to paper hasn't it?
But you have to understand, life with an iPhone is so much easier than writing in a diary every day.
It allows me to use emojis (these little symbols that express exactly how your feeling, a sad face when you are sad, a scrunched up face when you feel like you have made a mistake, and my favourite, a smiling poo!)
But, and this is hard for me to write, i smashed the screen.
It was an accident, I swear!! The guilt i felt inside was unmeasurable and alas, the damage was not only on the surface.
Siri, my friend, well, her voice went all masculine, like a man trying to be a women but you can still tell she's a man.
Its been 5 hours and 38 minutes since I departed from my iPhone, or as I prefer to call it, 'my life'.
I miss the updates when all my lives in candy crush have been restored, the sweet whistle it makes when I have a message, oh and to hear an alert again when I match with someone on tinder. The sound is ringing in my memory… trling…ing…ing..ing.
If I was texting you, my diary, this is where I would insert a sad smiley face with a tear.
I don't know how long my dearly beloved will be away getting fixed, or if for that matter, it can be fixed. (again sad smiley face x2)
The next week will be a test of character, will I cope, I honestly don't know!
I'm trying to stay strong. Only time and perhaps a new shiny iPhone will heal my pain.
I can't write anymore as its to upsetting.
hopefully, you will hear from me again, if my heart heals.
Tuesday, 13 October 2015
ALL MY FRIENDS ARE INSECTS
I have always been really good at over thinking, yes I hear what your saying, ADHD, anxiety, these are both highly contributing factors. Be that as it may, It doesn't help me NOT do this!
If I've not heard from a friend for sometime, I automatically jump to the conclusion that they must hate me or I must have done something wrong.
* Let me interject for a moment to deliver some important information. I have a bad habit of blurting out information that I shouldn't when I start to get anxious or nervous it has led to a few, shall we say "issues" in the past so, that is most likely the reason i jump to this conclusion.
Someone once said to me, 'If you think someone is cross with you then, you are usually right and they are'. I wish she had never said that to me. Its not true all the time. I seem to be paranoid for nothing sometimes. And yes well then sometimes they are mad and I have flapped my jaw and deserve the onslaught I have coming. I will always own my mistakes and be the first one to admit and apologies (usually in the same breathe) when I am in the wrong. I HATE when I have done nothing at all and it is not my fault and I cop the blame. Anyway...
So, over thinking leads to little dramas and scenarios in my head. (Please tell me I'm not the only one that does this as it would make me feel a hell of a lot better!) I begin to surmise why they may not be happy with me, what it is I could have said or done. Once Ive decided on the most likely reason, I then imagine that person confronting me. this is never in a nice calm manner with thought and deliberation on their part. It is always a fierce attack, worse than any way in which i actually believe they would behave. For reasons unknown, I always think of worst case, I suppose then I am completely prepared for whatever happens. (I'm pretty sure nothing I've dreamt up in my head has ever come to fruition by the way). Next thing to do is practise how I would react. What would my rebuttal be? (I'm also pretty sure that I'm a lot braver in my head than reality as it would seem)
Does this sound a little bit crazy? I hope it makes sense as this is constantly going on inside my head. ALL THE TIME!!!! Once I've satisfied myself that I have the situation under control and that if it were to happen, I'd have full control of the situation. I mull over it again and again for at least a week or two until the problem sorts itself out entirely with no need whatsoever for my little plan of attack to be forced into action. Or of course, a new scenario all together raises the stakes and takes the for position over the previous one. ahhhh I'm exhausted just writing that let alone living it.
And so the cycle continues. again, and again, and… yup you guessed it… again!
The only thing I can keep doing and saying to myself for reassurance is…
*Those who were disappointed in the lack of insects in this blog, it's a song title by a little band that goes by the name of 'Weezer'. Look them up, you never know, you may just love them. just quietly, they're pretty great.
If I've not heard from a friend for sometime, I automatically jump to the conclusion that they must hate me or I must have done something wrong.
* Let me interject for a moment to deliver some important information. I have a bad habit of blurting out information that I shouldn't when I start to get anxious or nervous it has led to a few, shall we say "issues" in the past so, that is most likely the reason i jump to this conclusion.
Someone once said to me, 'If you think someone is cross with you then, you are usually right and they are'. I wish she had never said that to me. Its not true all the time. I seem to be paranoid for nothing sometimes. And yes well then sometimes they are mad and I have flapped my jaw and deserve the onslaught I have coming. I will always own my mistakes and be the first one to admit and apologies (usually in the same breathe) when I am in the wrong. I HATE when I have done nothing at all and it is not my fault and I cop the blame. Anyway...
So, over thinking leads to little dramas and scenarios in my head. (Please tell me I'm not the only one that does this as it would make me feel a hell of a lot better!) I begin to surmise why they may not be happy with me, what it is I could have said or done. Once Ive decided on the most likely reason, I then imagine that person confronting me. this is never in a nice calm manner with thought and deliberation on their part. It is always a fierce attack, worse than any way in which i actually believe they would behave. For reasons unknown, I always think of worst case, I suppose then I am completely prepared for whatever happens. (I'm pretty sure nothing I've dreamt up in my head has ever come to fruition by the way). Next thing to do is practise how I would react. What would my rebuttal be? (I'm also pretty sure that I'm a lot braver in my head than reality as it would seem)
Does this sound a little bit crazy? I hope it makes sense as this is constantly going on inside my head. ALL THE TIME!!!! Once I've satisfied myself that I have the situation under control and that if it were to happen, I'd have full control of the situation. I mull over it again and again for at least a week or two until the problem sorts itself out entirely with no need whatsoever for my little plan of attack to be forced into action. Or of course, a new scenario all together raises the stakes and takes the for position over the previous one. ahhhh I'm exhausted just writing that let alone living it.
And so the cycle continues. again, and again, and… yup you guessed it… again!
The only thing I can keep doing and saying to myself for reassurance is…
BE A NICE HUMAN.
*Those who were disappointed in the lack of insects in this blog, it's a song title by a little band that goes by the name of 'Weezer'. Look them up, you never know, you may just love them. just quietly, they're pretty great.
Thursday, 8 October 2015
INSANE IN THE BRAIN (GOING INSANE, GOT NO BRAIN)
this week is mental health week in Australia.
A fantastic week bringing mental heath into the spotlight and making it OKAY to talk about, recognise and understand the workings of many diseases, disorders and common problems.
I myself suffer from Bipolar and adult ADHD. This is not something I advertise but am always happy to talk about and tell people.
There is a great stigma behind mental health, one which is not really helpful to people like myself that live everyday as a struggle as it is.
I have great days, and not so great days. I love life, it offers so many opportunities, this however, doesn't stop the anxiety and depression from constantly derailing what should be a simple task such us cleaning the house, cooking dinner, catching up with friends.
Today i feel horrible. I want to crawl under the sheets and just cry. Why? your guess is as good as mine to be honest. I could feel it creeping up on me the last coupe of days.
ill try and explain: (Try, i said try as its not always that simple)
Imagine its a balmy summer day, suns shining and your happy going about your business. You can feel something in the air though, an uneasy feeling, a storm brewing in the distance. You may even be able to see the dark clouds and smell the rain in the air but its a long way off. A storm like this is always following me. ALWAYS. But as unpredictable as the weather can be, so is depression and anxiety. Sometimes a storm settles, passes you by with only some light rain and slight chill in the air, but for the most part you can keep your plans and life isn't effected. Other storms, well, its time to batten the hatches and take cover. A storm will always pass but its never an exact science of how long it will last and what damage it will cause before it does. You can't ignore thunder and tightening. its scary and chaotic. Its also very, very lonely. even if there is someone right by your side.
Ive had storms that can last a week, or just a few days. the severity of the storm isn't dependant on the time either. the damage each storm does is as i said, unpredictable. But, I clean up after each storm and try to act as though it never happened. For the most part this works. Others may not even have noticed the storm. But i do, I feel its effects for a long time.
I think for me, the scariest part is feeling it coming, I know its coming and there isn't much I can do about it. I know it can't last forever but what if this one does, and thus continues the stupid cycle of anxiety and depression.
I do my best not to let it impact on my kids. I can usually hold it together till they are in bed then i can let it all flood over me. Nigh time is the worst. Feeling as though i am the only person in such a vast population. Its a very daunting thought.
I have a great deal of support around me of family and friends. I hardly ever tell them whats going on as friends usually don't want to hear it, or don't know what to do when you tell them. But without them knowing, they are my happy place. My comfort zone. I know that I'm safe with them and that's enough for me.
Life will continue and I will always fight against the storm. It'll take more than a few claps of thunder and rolling clouds to dull my sparkle.
A fantastic week bringing mental heath into the spotlight and making it OKAY to talk about, recognise and understand the workings of many diseases, disorders and common problems.
I myself suffer from Bipolar and adult ADHD. This is not something I advertise but am always happy to talk about and tell people.
There is a great stigma behind mental health, one which is not really helpful to people like myself that live everyday as a struggle as it is.
I have great days, and not so great days. I love life, it offers so many opportunities, this however, doesn't stop the anxiety and depression from constantly derailing what should be a simple task such us cleaning the house, cooking dinner, catching up with friends.
Today i feel horrible. I want to crawl under the sheets and just cry. Why? your guess is as good as mine to be honest. I could feel it creeping up on me the last coupe of days.
ill try and explain: (Try, i said try as its not always that simple)
Imagine its a balmy summer day, suns shining and your happy going about your business. You can feel something in the air though, an uneasy feeling, a storm brewing in the distance. You may even be able to see the dark clouds and smell the rain in the air but its a long way off. A storm like this is always following me. ALWAYS. But as unpredictable as the weather can be, so is depression and anxiety. Sometimes a storm settles, passes you by with only some light rain and slight chill in the air, but for the most part you can keep your plans and life isn't effected. Other storms, well, its time to batten the hatches and take cover. A storm will always pass but its never an exact science of how long it will last and what damage it will cause before it does. You can't ignore thunder and tightening. its scary and chaotic. Its also very, very lonely. even if there is someone right by your side.
Ive had storms that can last a week, or just a few days. the severity of the storm isn't dependant on the time either. the damage each storm does is as i said, unpredictable. But, I clean up after each storm and try to act as though it never happened. For the most part this works. Others may not even have noticed the storm. But i do, I feel its effects for a long time.
I think for me, the scariest part is feeling it coming, I know its coming and there isn't much I can do about it. I know it can't last forever but what if this one does, and thus continues the stupid cycle of anxiety and depression.
I do my best not to let it impact on my kids. I can usually hold it together till they are in bed then i can let it all flood over me. Nigh time is the worst. Feeling as though i am the only person in such a vast population. Its a very daunting thought.
I have a great deal of support around me of family and friends. I hardly ever tell them whats going on as friends usually don't want to hear it, or don't know what to do when you tell them. But without them knowing, they are my happy place. My comfort zone. I know that I'm safe with them and that's enough for me.
Life will continue and I will always fight against the storm. It'll take more than a few claps of thunder and rolling clouds to dull my sparkle.
Wednesday, 30 September 2015
A STROKE OF MISFORTUNE (THE WHOLE STORY) part II
Its dark now, I'm travelling down the highway with my partners parents. My parents have met the helicopter at the hospital. So far, he is still stable and alive.
As we are about 1 hour away from the hospital my phone rings, the sound is a shrilling echo in what is otherwise a silent car. I began to feel that flush in my face and the rush of blood in my ears. This could be a call I don't want to answer. This could change the game… forever.
"Hello, Linda speaking" I say with trepidation in my voice.
Its the doctor at the hospital. He has just performed a minor surgery on my partners head. He explains that at this stage, the blood from his bleeding vein (in the top centre part of his head) has built up and caused pressure and swelling to the brain. this in itself can be damaging. In order to release the pressure and drain the blog they have drilled a small hole the size of pencil, inserted a tube and drained the blood. For now the drain will stay in place and continue to keep the pressure at a minimum by draining any excess that may appear. He has tolerated this procedure. is still in a coma and at this point has shown no significant signs of any more severe bleeding.
Now we wait.
Would you believe me if I told you that the same neurosurgeon that saved my brothers life only 9 months early had just performed the surgery my partner. It was to raw and early to reflect on this as a positive or not but i suppose at the very least, a small amount of relief registered somewhere in the maze of my mind that he had a great doctor, and, this is good.
After what felt like a lifetime, I know i keep saying that but seriously, longest day of many to come!
We arrive at the hospital. Please don't forget that I'm almost 7 1/2 months pregnant. sitting uncomfortably in a car for three hours. I'm exhausted but more wide awake than ever, I hurt and want to go to sleep and pretend its a bad dream but i also want to run as fast as i can to his side.
My parents meet us at the door of the hospital and we have to fiddle around for our ID as its late at night and have to go through the security to enter the hospital. My mind is screaming at this man. ' You have got to be kidding me, look at me, the only threat i pose is to the seats i may rest my rump on causing them to break under the weight of my baby body!! Let me go, i need to see him, touch him, feel him breathe and hear his heart pump before i will believe he is still alive'
The all to familiar procedure of ICU begins. Call through to the nurse and say who we are and who we need to see. The nurse buzzes us through the doors. Hand sanitary lotion is not a suggestion in ICU. It has the most distinct smell. One to this day still takes me right back there with sadness.
I can't explain well the feeling of looking at your love, your life lying in a bed, tubes in their mouth, cords dancing around their body, but i will try. If it weren't for these "intruding objects" you would just think they were asleep. But they are not. they are unconscious. He had his head bandaged like a child would do to their teddy bear if they were playing nurse. the eerie darkness of the night was illuminated from the lights of the machines breathing for him. The calmness of sound was interrupted loudly but beeps from the machines every other moment. I touched his face. I cried.
The next four days were critical, he was monitored for pressure in his brain, brain activity, and vital signs of ice in general.
I spent most of each day either by his side or just outside the ICU in the waiting area.
I remember the waiting area more clearly from my brothers accident than the actual ICU unit itself. You can only have 2/3 people in ICU with a patient at once. This is where my parents stayed whilst I kept the spirits of family members going in the wait room.
Its an unusual place to be. Obviously no matter what is wrong with you, if you are in the ICU, its serious. Some people are there knowing its the end. The elderly are eased gently from this world whilst a young boy lays their fighting with everything he has to stay in this world.
Peoples moods are unpredictable. Everyone deals with stress and sickness differently.
My family.
We pep each other up, keep things light and positive, bring solace from a laugh. We are strong and band together like a family should. You may think it odd to laugh or joke about things at such a time as this, but the relief that comes from a laugh is so strong and needed.
We of course were respectful of others and never made anyone feel that we were being insensitive to the situation. You would however be surprised how often a giggle or smile from a person is then sought after by others so they to may join in and release their tension.
At one point over the four days there were about four different groups of people in this waiting area and someone had said something (I forget as it was so insignificant) that caused a ripple effect of laughter. Within minutes we were all in fits of laughter, tears of laughter and sadness combined in that one moment to bring relief to everyone. its a moment that has stuck with me and always will.
If you can't cry, laugh i say, then cry and then, laugh some more!
As we are about 1 hour away from the hospital my phone rings, the sound is a shrilling echo in what is otherwise a silent car. I began to feel that flush in my face and the rush of blood in my ears. This could be a call I don't want to answer. This could change the game… forever.
"Hello, Linda speaking" I say with trepidation in my voice.
Its the doctor at the hospital. He has just performed a minor surgery on my partners head. He explains that at this stage, the blood from his bleeding vein (in the top centre part of his head) has built up and caused pressure and swelling to the brain. this in itself can be damaging. In order to release the pressure and drain the blog they have drilled a small hole the size of pencil, inserted a tube and drained the blood. For now the drain will stay in place and continue to keep the pressure at a minimum by draining any excess that may appear. He has tolerated this procedure. is still in a coma and at this point has shown no significant signs of any more severe bleeding.
Now we wait.
Would you believe me if I told you that the same neurosurgeon that saved my brothers life only 9 months early had just performed the surgery my partner. It was to raw and early to reflect on this as a positive or not but i suppose at the very least, a small amount of relief registered somewhere in the maze of my mind that he had a great doctor, and, this is good.
After what felt like a lifetime, I know i keep saying that but seriously, longest day of many to come!
We arrive at the hospital. Please don't forget that I'm almost 7 1/2 months pregnant. sitting uncomfortably in a car for three hours. I'm exhausted but more wide awake than ever, I hurt and want to go to sleep and pretend its a bad dream but i also want to run as fast as i can to his side.
My parents meet us at the door of the hospital and we have to fiddle around for our ID as its late at night and have to go through the security to enter the hospital. My mind is screaming at this man. ' You have got to be kidding me, look at me, the only threat i pose is to the seats i may rest my rump on causing them to break under the weight of my baby body!! Let me go, i need to see him, touch him, feel him breathe and hear his heart pump before i will believe he is still alive'
The all to familiar procedure of ICU begins. Call through to the nurse and say who we are and who we need to see. The nurse buzzes us through the doors. Hand sanitary lotion is not a suggestion in ICU. It has the most distinct smell. One to this day still takes me right back there with sadness.
I can't explain well the feeling of looking at your love, your life lying in a bed, tubes in their mouth, cords dancing around their body, but i will try. If it weren't for these "intruding objects" you would just think they were asleep. But they are not. they are unconscious. He had his head bandaged like a child would do to their teddy bear if they were playing nurse. the eerie darkness of the night was illuminated from the lights of the machines breathing for him. The calmness of sound was interrupted loudly but beeps from the machines every other moment. I touched his face. I cried.
The next four days were critical, he was monitored for pressure in his brain, brain activity, and vital signs of ice in general.
I spent most of each day either by his side or just outside the ICU in the waiting area.
I remember the waiting area more clearly from my brothers accident than the actual ICU unit itself. You can only have 2/3 people in ICU with a patient at once. This is where my parents stayed whilst I kept the spirits of family members going in the wait room.
Its an unusual place to be. Obviously no matter what is wrong with you, if you are in the ICU, its serious. Some people are there knowing its the end. The elderly are eased gently from this world whilst a young boy lays their fighting with everything he has to stay in this world.
Peoples moods are unpredictable. Everyone deals with stress and sickness differently.
My family.
We pep each other up, keep things light and positive, bring solace from a laugh. We are strong and band together like a family should. You may think it odd to laugh or joke about things at such a time as this, but the relief that comes from a laugh is so strong and needed.
We of course were respectful of others and never made anyone feel that we were being insensitive to the situation. You would however be surprised how often a giggle or smile from a person is then sought after by others so they to may join in and release their tension.
At one point over the four days there were about four different groups of people in this waiting area and someone had said something (I forget as it was so insignificant) that caused a ripple effect of laughter. Within minutes we were all in fits of laughter, tears of laughter and sadness combined in that one moment to bring relief to everyone. its a moment that has stuck with me and always will.
If you can't cry, laugh i say, then cry and then, laugh some more!
Monday, 28 September 2015
AN OPEN LETTER TO A DUDE IN A TRUCK
Dear Old Dude in the truck that slowed to an almost stop, just to whistle at me and take off again as I was mowing my lawn,
I want to explain to you how this made me feel. Just a warning, this won't be short or dumbed down for your simple mind.
I am an single independent women (yes, cue Beyoncé) I have three kids which I raise all on my own. They are inside the house right now. (Destroying it no doubt) I'm embarrassed for you that they would have seen this display of degradation towards me, their mum.
I have a chronic illness which leaves me in pain and very tired, but, I want to set a good example for my kids and show them that I can look after them and do everything I need to regardless of my illness. I want to teach them that nothing in life should stop you. What I don't want to teach them is that by doing a normal everyday chore you will be subjected to mindless badgering from a dirty old man.
If I were a man mowing the lawns you wouldn't have given me a second thought. It's not that unusual for a women to mow the lawns is it? Really?
So why do you feel you have the right to whistle at me with a seedy grin when I'm in my own home doing something that is so mediocre to trillions of people in the world. I, unlike most men that take care of the lawns, do not get to go inside and sit down when I'm finished. I have to tackle the mayhem that only three unsupervised children can cause in 40 minutes. I won't have a break later in the evening as I will then have to cook dinner. After dinner I will be cleaning up, bathing children, reading stories and fighting in the never ending bedtime battle. ON MY OWN.
So why do you feel you have the right to whistle at me with a seedy grin when I'm in my own home doing something that is so mediocre to trillions of people in the world. I, unlike most men that take care of the lawns, do not get to go inside and sit down when I'm finished. I have to tackle the mayhem that only three unsupervised children can cause in 40 minutes. I won't have a break later in the evening as I will then have to cook dinner. After dinner I will be cleaning up, bathing children, reading stories and fighting in the never ending bedtime battle. ON MY OWN.
Again, your whistle baffles me, I was not parading around in skimpy tight clothing, I'm sweating and puffing with a blotchy red face as I push the mower through the grass that should have been cut weeks ago, but wasn't as I was unwell and simply to busy. I'm wearing a dirty old T-shirt and am rather disturbed to think you find this sexy.
I think you are the reason women find it hard in this world to do simple things without hesitation. You are the reason women feel uncomfortable in their own skin. Your stupid whistle sets women back so far from where we have come.
I will not stop being amazing because of your whistle, I will not stop teaching my three children that women can do anything a man can do, I will not stop teaching my son not to degrade women.
Im sure you would feel ashamed if I could stop you and tell you this, put a story to what you see as just a chick to whistle at. I hope you don't have a son or daughter that learns from your behaviours.
Sincerely
The chick you whistled at.
DEAR SMITHS CHIPS...
I'd like to take a moment from my day and share it with u Smiths chips.
I have three kids under 10, it's the first week of school holidays. The weather is inclement so the kids are tearing up the house. My nerves are on edge. I spy the box of chips on top the fridge. Quickly check where the kids are and steal away in the laundry with my mouth watering as I ever so quietly open a lunch size packet of twisties. (My favourite!!) as much as I'd love to savour this moment and enjoy ever morsel of this tiny packet slowly, I can't. Remember the kids I mentioned. So I tilt the packet, hovering just above my open mouth ready to gauge myself in delight. I take the first crunch... Wait, there is no crunch. I chew again, the same disappointment fills me with sadness. They are stale. To explain how this destroys my world I would need more time. But any mother who has had to hide to eat a treat would completely understand. My love for twisties in that one moment has been destroyed.
I have three kids under 10, it's the first week of school holidays. The weather is inclement so the kids are tearing up the house. My nerves are on edge. I spy the box of chips on top the fridge. Quickly check where the kids are and steal away in the laundry with my mouth watering as I ever so quietly open a lunch size packet of twisties. (My favourite!!) as much as I'd love to savour this moment and enjoy ever morsel of this tiny packet slowly, I can't. Remember the kids I mentioned. So I tilt the packet, hovering just above my open mouth ready to gauge myself in delight. I take the first crunch... Wait, there is no crunch. I chew again, the same disappointment fills me with sadness. They are stale. To explain how this destroys my world I would need more time. But any mother who has had to hide to eat a treat would completely understand. My love for twisties in that one moment has been destroyed.
I'm not sure how this will effect my relationship with twisties from here on... Only time will tell I guess. I'm willing to try but I'm hesitant at the least.
Regards
Disappointed mother of three.
Disappointed mother of three.
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
A STROKE OF MISFORTUNE (THE WHOLE STORY) part I
I have briefly written about my ex husbands stroke already. I think i'd like to tell you the story in depth now.
It was a usual morning for John and I. He works as a wall and floor tiler, that means he's up and off to work by 6:30 am. The usual kiss me goodbye while i'm asleep. I'm about 32 weeks pregnant, I have no need to get out of bed this early. So around 9 o'clock I heave my belly out of bed. I have this great idea that I should get some exercise (crazy I know) so I decide to go for a walk around the block. This is before the days of iPhones so I had no need to take my brick of a phone with me and left it.
By the time i wander back from my energetic stroll, I have 7 missed calls on my phone from my mother in law. I immediately called her and she said John is at the local doctors and isn't able to walk or something, she wasn't quite sure what was going on and was heading there now. I jumped in the car with her and we drove to the doc about 15 minutes away.
John had been working at a house about 300 metres up the road from their doctor who was also a family friend. His brother who walked with him had dropped him to the doc as he was feeling really unwell. at the time his bro dropped him he felt nauseous and off balance but that was about it so he went back to work.
When Johns mother and I arrived there was an ambulance out the front. This was concerning to say the least. As we entered the practise, they knew who we were and took us straight to where john was with the ambo's.
Still without a cue what was happening, I got to the doorway to find John laying on his side on the stretcher vomiting, All of a sudden his right arm flopped hard beside his body without his control. At this sight I burst into tears and backed away from the door. It wasn't a moment later that they wheeled him to the ambulance. One of the ambo's pulled me aside and questioned whether John had taken any drugs to my knowledge. My answer was no. We had dabbled in things here and there in the past but it was most certainly not something he would have done.
The ambulance was off and his mother and I were left surmising what on earth could be wrong as we drove back home. We were saying to each other that he must have pinched a nerve and would be in hospital at least the weekend so I went home to grab an overnight bag for him and would meet her at the hospital.
We arrived at the emergency department and in that short time, John had lost all control of the right side of his body. He was still awake yet quite aggressive and confused about where he was and why. By this stage his father and brother had arrived. We were all by his bed when the doctor came to see us with the most devastating news. John was having a stroke. A very large and severe stroke. John was still very unsettled, I was told to move to his right side so that he didn't accidentally lash out and hit my belly. It was so scary seeing him like this. He couldn't be reasoned with or settled. The doctor had said he'd passed his other patients onto different doctors and John was his main priority. He was doing everything he could do find a bed in a major city hospital as there was no neurological ward or surgeons here and John needed immediate medical attention or he would die.
Within around 15 minutes John had simmered down and (what we thought) had fallen asleep. When the doc came to check we were relieved and said he's settled down and sleeping. No actually, We were dead wrong. He had slipped into a coma. We had to leave the ER while they induced him further so that they could control the coma and insert breathing tubes etc. Now we waited.. 5/6 hours in fact until they could find a hospital with a bed.
In the meantime, my parents lived in the city and I had called them early on when I still thought john had just pinched a nerve (How wrong I was). Without alarming me, they realised that something serious was happening and I would need some support so they had began driving up the coast to me (around a 5 hour trip). When we received the diagnosis of the stroke I had called mum and dad who were nearly at the closest town with a major hospital. I said don't drive any further as he will either be sent there or to the city so they would either meet us there or turn back to the city.
As I said after around 5/6 hours later, time kinda of stood still as you could imagine, they had a bed. It was in the hospital mum and dad had stopped. around 3 hours drive away. The same hospital my brother had been in after his accident. John was prepared to be airlifted and we would follow by car.
We had to say our goodbyes as the helicopter had arrived and he was ready to go. This could of been the last time I saw him alive. No one knew the damage the bleed had caused or the rate it was bleeding into his brain. His parents are not very good at showing physical emotion. They patted his arm and said see you soon mate. (I understand they were very upset but wouldn't you want to kiss your child goodbye knowing it may be the last time you may ever get to!). I kissed his forehead told him how much baby and I loved hi. I said you are going to be okay, you are strong and we will get through this together. I will seen you so very soon.
I walked with the him to a certain point at the helicopter pad until i wasn't allowed any further. I went to my car and sat and watched it take off. I was in shock and couldn't even cry. I was repeatedly saying out loud to none in particular as I was alone, "I can't do this again, please please, not again"
It was all to familiar, the helicopter, a brain injury, death so close and almost imminent.
It felt like my brother all over again and only 9 months later.
It was a usual morning for John and I. He works as a wall and floor tiler, that means he's up and off to work by 6:30 am. The usual kiss me goodbye while i'm asleep. I'm about 32 weeks pregnant, I have no need to get out of bed this early. So around 9 o'clock I heave my belly out of bed. I have this great idea that I should get some exercise (crazy I know) so I decide to go for a walk around the block. This is before the days of iPhones so I had no need to take my brick of a phone with me and left it.
By the time i wander back from my energetic stroll, I have 7 missed calls on my phone from my mother in law. I immediately called her and she said John is at the local doctors and isn't able to walk or something, she wasn't quite sure what was going on and was heading there now. I jumped in the car with her and we drove to the doc about 15 minutes away.
John had been working at a house about 300 metres up the road from their doctor who was also a family friend. His brother who walked with him had dropped him to the doc as he was feeling really unwell. at the time his bro dropped him he felt nauseous and off balance but that was about it so he went back to work.
When Johns mother and I arrived there was an ambulance out the front. This was concerning to say the least. As we entered the practise, they knew who we were and took us straight to where john was with the ambo's.
Still without a cue what was happening, I got to the doorway to find John laying on his side on the stretcher vomiting, All of a sudden his right arm flopped hard beside his body without his control. At this sight I burst into tears and backed away from the door. It wasn't a moment later that they wheeled him to the ambulance. One of the ambo's pulled me aside and questioned whether John had taken any drugs to my knowledge. My answer was no. We had dabbled in things here and there in the past but it was most certainly not something he would have done.
The ambulance was off and his mother and I were left surmising what on earth could be wrong as we drove back home. We were saying to each other that he must have pinched a nerve and would be in hospital at least the weekend so I went home to grab an overnight bag for him and would meet her at the hospital.
We arrived at the emergency department and in that short time, John had lost all control of the right side of his body. He was still awake yet quite aggressive and confused about where he was and why. By this stage his father and brother had arrived. We were all by his bed when the doctor came to see us with the most devastating news. John was having a stroke. A very large and severe stroke. John was still very unsettled, I was told to move to his right side so that he didn't accidentally lash out and hit my belly. It was so scary seeing him like this. He couldn't be reasoned with or settled. The doctor had said he'd passed his other patients onto different doctors and John was his main priority. He was doing everything he could do find a bed in a major city hospital as there was no neurological ward or surgeons here and John needed immediate medical attention or he would die.
Within around 15 minutes John had simmered down and (what we thought) had fallen asleep. When the doc came to check we were relieved and said he's settled down and sleeping. No actually, We were dead wrong. He had slipped into a coma. We had to leave the ER while they induced him further so that they could control the coma and insert breathing tubes etc. Now we waited.. 5/6 hours in fact until they could find a hospital with a bed.
In the meantime, my parents lived in the city and I had called them early on when I still thought john had just pinched a nerve (How wrong I was). Without alarming me, they realised that something serious was happening and I would need some support so they had began driving up the coast to me (around a 5 hour trip). When we received the diagnosis of the stroke I had called mum and dad who were nearly at the closest town with a major hospital. I said don't drive any further as he will either be sent there or to the city so they would either meet us there or turn back to the city.
As I said after around 5/6 hours later, time kinda of stood still as you could imagine, they had a bed. It was in the hospital mum and dad had stopped. around 3 hours drive away. The same hospital my brother had been in after his accident. John was prepared to be airlifted and we would follow by car.
We had to say our goodbyes as the helicopter had arrived and he was ready to go. This could of been the last time I saw him alive. No one knew the damage the bleed had caused or the rate it was bleeding into his brain. His parents are not very good at showing physical emotion. They patted his arm and said see you soon mate. (I understand they were very upset but wouldn't you want to kiss your child goodbye knowing it may be the last time you may ever get to!). I kissed his forehead told him how much baby and I loved hi. I said you are going to be okay, you are strong and we will get through this together. I will seen you so very soon.
I walked with the him to a certain point at the helicopter pad until i wasn't allowed any further. I went to my car and sat and watched it take off. I was in shock and couldn't even cry. I was repeatedly saying out loud to none in particular as I was alone, "I can't do this again, please please, not again"
It was all to familiar, the helicopter, a brain injury, death so close and almost imminent.
It felt like my brother all over again and only 9 months later.
Tuesday, 24 March 2015
RAISING HELL… WAIT, I MEAN A BOY, YES… RAISING A BOY part II
I will refer to this as my sons Poo Stage.
Why because that's exactly what it was. A stage where it was all about poo.
He's a sensitive little dude. He is your typical boy. He would bash and bang toys no matter what they were, his sisters would dress him up like a princess and he would roar like a lion in a pretty sequin pink ensemble.
The first time the POO occurred, I put it down to age and intrigue. I think most parents have a story of at least one of their children paying with poo. This became a infatuation with my dude.
I would smell it first. Now lets just explore this for a moment. You know how you can smell dog poo if someone has stepped in it?, it has a distinct odour, not a pleasurable experience at all. Now think about baby/toddler poo. It's also a distinct smell. One of horrifying magnitudes at times.
With that smell in mind, once it's detected it cannot be ignored, nor should it.
Finding the source of the smell is usually quite simple it is a protruding nappy which has rudely interrupted your morning coffee. Usually a simple fix of changing it, disposing of it and move on with your day. My dude, although toilet training, didn't feel it was appropriate to just poo in his nappy and either take it off or cruise around till it was changed.
wait for it…. He decided, god knows why, to SMEAR the poo up and down his legs and his arms.
I will let that last sentence sink it for a moment, focus on the word SMEAR and arms and legs.
Dry reaching was definitely unavoidable at this point. The first time this happened I had that moment of What the F do I do now. I was quite astounded that he wasn't fazed by the situation. In fact he was smiling. again, What the actual F???
Okay so the only conceivable thing to do was to dump him straight in the shower. Once he was "de pooed", I would then set to work on the carpet, he was quite a messy poo artist so he did get it everywhere.
I calmly explained all the reasons to him why this was not a smart idea with strong emphasis on the fact it will possibly make him very sick.
The next time it happened, he was caught mid smear behind the couch. he had pooed on the carpet then proceeded to pick it up and begin the big poo paint. kill me NOW!!!
It started to become a regular thing. I couldn't understand how he was okay with the smell or the texture. I can only think it must be like smearing peanut butter all over your arms and legs. it was just as hard to wash off, I needed to rub it off in the shower. Tears forming from the sight and smell and from the utter gravity of what my boy was doing was not normal.
We started seeing a child psychologist. He was somewhat alarmed at these happenings also yet seemed to find it (although at the extreme end of the scale) quite a obvious reaction to his environment. It was about a tactile sensation that he could control. He couldn't control where he went what the rules of life were or his emotions, yet he could control his poo and where it was placed. Good one son!
At this point I distinctly remember saying can't he have some form of tidy OCD or an obsession with trucks like most boys? Poo! it had to be Poo!!!
Eventually he stopped doing this. I can't say I didn't try loads of different things to deter this behaviour however I'm pretty sure he just got over it on his own. That was a by far one of my lowest points of being a single mum so far.
Poo, why did it have to be poo, seriously!
As a side note, first time, second time, anytime parents, please don't be deterred from having kids by this story. It was horrifyingly yuk! But, it was a phase, granted not a widely popular one of toddlers but it was what it was. He is now 5, at school, brilliantly minded! socially confident and above all and most importantly, no longer plays with poo! kids are weird! but we love them anyhow right!
poo! bloody poooooo!
Why because that's exactly what it was. A stage where it was all about poo.
He's a sensitive little dude. He is your typical boy. He would bash and bang toys no matter what they were, his sisters would dress him up like a princess and he would roar like a lion in a pretty sequin pink ensemble.
The first time the POO occurred, I put it down to age and intrigue. I think most parents have a story of at least one of their children paying with poo. This became a infatuation with my dude.
I would smell it first. Now lets just explore this for a moment. You know how you can smell dog poo if someone has stepped in it?, it has a distinct odour, not a pleasurable experience at all. Now think about baby/toddler poo. It's also a distinct smell. One of horrifying magnitudes at times.
With that smell in mind, once it's detected it cannot be ignored, nor should it.
Finding the source of the smell is usually quite simple it is a protruding nappy which has rudely interrupted your morning coffee. Usually a simple fix of changing it, disposing of it and move on with your day. My dude, although toilet training, didn't feel it was appropriate to just poo in his nappy and either take it off or cruise around till it was changed.
wait for it…. He decided, god knows why, to SMEAR the poo up and down his legs and his arms.
I will let that last sentence sink it for a moment, focus on the word SMEAR and arms and legs.
Dry reaching was definitely unavoidable at this point. The first time this happened I had that moment of What the F do I do now. I was quite astounded that he wasn't fazed by the situation. In fact he was smiling. again, What the actual F???
Okay so the only conceivable thing to do was to dump him straight in the shower. Once he was "de pooed", I would then set to work on the carpet, he was quite a messy poo artist so he did get it everywhere.
I calmly explained all the reasons to him why this was not a smart idea with strong emphasis on the fact it will possibly make him very sick.
The next time it happened, he was caught mid smear behind the couch. he had pooed on the carpet then proceeded to pick it up and begin the big poo paint. kill me NOW!!!
It started to become a regular thing. I couldn't understand how he was okay with the smell or the texture. I can only think it must be like smearing peanut butter all over your arms and legs. it was just as hard to wash off, I needed to rub it off in the shower. Tears forming from the sight and smell and from the utter gravity of what my boy was doing was not normal.
We started seeing a child psychologist. He was somewhat alarmed at these happenings also yet seemed to find it (although at the extreme end of the scale) quite a obvious reaction to his environment. It was about a tactile sensation that he could control. He couldn't control where he went what the rules of life were or his emotions, yet he could control his poo and where it was placed. Good one son!
At this point I distinctly remember saying can't he have some form of tidy OCD or an obsession with trucks like most boys? Poo! it had to be Poo!!!
Eventually he stopped doing this. I can't say I didn't try loads of different things to deter this behaviour however I'm pretty sure he just got over it on his own. That was a by far one of my lowest points of being a single mum so far.
Poo, why did it have to be poo, seriously!
As a side note, first time, second time, anytime parents, please don't be deterred from having kids by this story. It was horrifyingly yuk! But, it was a phase, granted not a widely popular one of toddlers but it was what it was. He is now 5, at school, brilliantly minded! socially confident and above all and most importantly, no longer plays with poo! kids are weird! but we love them anyhow right!
poo! bloody poooooo!
RAISING HELL... WAIT, I MEAN A BOY, YES... RAISING A BOY part I
When my son was between the ages of 1 and 3, He wasn't the easiest child to grace this earth. He had amazing meltdowns, wouldn't get dressed, eat his food unless it was perfectly the way in which he wanted, this was a guessing game for me as he didn't actually share with me how he wished his food to appear, just what he didn't like about it.
My ex husband and I split the day before my little dudes 1st birthday. Not the greatest timing I admit but when is the right time for an event such as this. From that day the kids began the roller coaster ride of living between two parents, two houses, two sets of rules. They would and still do, stay with their father for the weekend every fortnight. Their father can and does see them between these visits from time to time, more so now than in the beginning.
Giving your 1 year old, along with a 3 and 5 year old, to someone else for two nights and three days is not natural or normal. Regardless of the fact it was their father. If my parents had them, I could call and it would be on my terms and my rules would be followed. But you see when you no longer wish to have a person in your life yet are forced to, you loose the right/power/control (whatever you wish to call it, its the same thing). I was a mess for at least the first six months of all this happening.
Why did I allow them to go you may wonder? He is their father. He is not a bad person. My children were not in a bad environment. They were not (to the best of my knowledge) in any immediate danger.
This is all sensible and seems to be the way things are commonly handled when families break apart. Try though, to explain this to a 1 year old. I have stayed at home with all of my children. I have sacrificed having a job/career, a life outside of nappies and play school. My son had been away from me at best for a night and that was only up the road with my parents. He didn't understand why he had to go with his dad all of a sudden and not see his mum from Friday afternoon till Sunday afternoon.
I would hazard a guess that majority of kids reactions when they arrive back to mum (or dad, whoever the full time career may be) is to be quite sticky.. no not from the sugary treats they have bee bribed with, I mean good luck even attempting to go to the bathroom without them. They have missed you! Extra cuddles, kisses and attention is needed. (For the parent too).
My boy did not react as such. He would appear to be almost angry and resentful towards me. It was as if I was being punished for sending him away. It broke my heart, many times.
As he grew a bit older and perhaps more aware of the situation he became quite aggressive. He would hit me and bite me, scream at me and refuse any form of affection I offered. This would last a day or two and then he would settle back down and be my adoring boy cuddly as anything again till the next stay at his dads.
I figured it was a phase. A very hard one, but given time he would adjust and except the situation for what it was. Surely as he grew in age he could start to comprehend that I was not sending nor pushing him or the girls away from me. Quite the opposite happened. The aggressive behaviour got worse and would stretch out from one to two days to a week, then to the point he was never happy.
He became withdrawn. I had to battle every single thing with him. He would refuse to even leave the house or go anywhere. Of course he had to because the girls had school and I needed to go to the supermarket etc. I lost count of the amount of times I had to pin him down just to get clothes on him and then drag him to the car reluctantly while the neighbours were probably on the phone to docs!
My boy would shut down from around thursday evening, knowing that Friday he would be going to his dads. Time spent with his Pa (my father) was about the only thing he was happy about. Pa became a sanctuary to him, his safe haven, reliable and never changing. He also saved my sanity! Pa is amazing with all kids, the girls adore him like nothing i've ever seen. He plays an important role with my boy though, he teaches him to be a kind and polite, intelligent male. Something perhaps his father is needing to also be taught!
I had tried sending my son to preschool for a while when he was nearly 4. It was horrible. He would get so upset about leaving me that I had to lie to him and not tell him where we were going. That was the straw that broke the camels back for me. This kid is hurting so badly inside and all he wants is his mum, here I am sending him away to strangers. So I canned that after about 5 weeks of crying and screaming every day. Guess what? It was the best decision I've made so far for him. We began to have special days to break up the cycles we were in. To break what I can now look back and see was some pretty extreme anxiety. W had mummy days where I did no house work or chores, we chose together what to do and would do it. some days it was sitting on the couch watching a movie. Other days were more adventurous at the beach. then we had Shopping days and town days. Once he had a pre planned idea in his head of what would be happening that day he was okay about it. (Not perfect, the tantrums were still happening, but better)
There is a stage i've not spoken about just yet… I think it deserves an entire post of it's own, I also don't won't to over whelm any parents to be all in one blog, so I will leave a "To Be Continued" right here and post part 2 as soon as I can.
My ex husband and I split the day before my little dudes 1st birthday. Not the greatest timing I admit but when is the right time for an event such as this. From that day the kids began the roller coaster ride of living between two parents, two houses, two sets of rules. They would and still do, stay with their father for the weekend every fortnight. Their father can and does see them between these visits from time to time, more so now than in the beginning.
Giving your 1 year old, along with a 3 and 5 year old, to someone else for two nights and three days is not natural or normal. Regardless of the fact it was their father. If my parents had them, I could call and it would be on my terms and my rules would be followed. But you see when you no longer wish to have a person in your life yet are forced to, you loose the right/power/control (whatever you wish to call it, its the same thing). I was a mess for at least the first six months of all this happening.
Why did I allow them to go you may wonder? He is their father. He is not a bad person. My children were not in a bad environment. They were not (to the best of my knowledge) in any immediate danger.
This is all sensible and seems to be the way things are commonly handled when families break apart. Try though, to explain this to a 1 year old. I have stayed at home with all of my children. I have sacrificed having a job/career, a life outside of nappies and play school. My son had been away from me at best for a night and that was only up the road with my parents. He didn't understand why he had to go with his dad all of a sudden and not see his mum from Friday afternoon till Sunday afternoon.
I would hazard a guess that majority of kids reactions when they arrive back to mum (or dad, whoever the full time career may be) is to be quite sticky.. no not from the sugary treats they have bee bribed with, I mean good luck even attempting to go to the bathroom without them. They have missed you! Extra cuddles, kisses and attention is needed. (For the parent too).
My boy did not react as such. He would appear to be almost angry and resentful towards me. It was as if I was being punished for sending him away. It broke my heart, many times.
As he grew a bit older and perhaps more aware of the situation he became quite aggressive. He would hit me and bite me, scream at me and refuse any form of affection I offered. This would last a day or two and then he would settle back down and be my adoring boy cuddly as anything again till the next stay at his dads.
I figured it was a phase. A very hard one, but given time he would adjust and except the situation for what it was. Surely as he grew in age he could start to comprehend that I was not sending nor pushing him or the girls away from me. Quite the opposite happened. The aggressive behaviour got worse and would stretch out from one to two days to a week, then to the point he was never happy.
He became withdrawn. I had to battle every single thing with him. He would refuse to even leave the house or go anywhere. Of course he had to because the girls had school and I needed to go to the supermarket etc. I lost count of the amount of times I had to pin him down just to get clothes on him and then drag him to the car reluctantly while the neighbours were probably on the phone to docs!
My boy would shut down from around thursday evening, knowing that Friday he would be going to his dads. Time spent with his Pa (my father) was about the only thing he was happy about. Pa became a sanctuary to him, his safe haven, reliable and never changing. He also saved my sanity! Pa is amazing with all kids, the girls adore him like nothing i've ever seen. He plays an important role with my boy though, he teaches him to be a kind and polite, intelligent male. Something perhaps his father is needing to also be taught!
I had tried sending my son to preschool for a while when he was nearly 4. It was horrible. He would get so upset about leaving me that I had to lie to him and not tell him where we were going. That was the straw that broke the camels back for me. This kid is hurting so badly inside and all he wants is his mum, here I am sending him away to strangers. So I canned that after about 5 weeks of crying and screaming every day. Guess what? It was the best decision I've made so far for him. We began to have special days to break up the cycles we were in. To break what I can now look back and see was some pretty extreme anxiety. W had mummy days where I did no house work or chores, we chose together what to do and would do it. some days it was sitting on the couch watching a movie. Other days were more adventurous at the beach. then we had Shopping days and town days. Once he had a pre planned idea in his head of what would be happening that day he was okay about it. (Not perfect, the tantrums were still happening, but better)
There is a stage i've not spoken about just yet… I think it deserves an entire post of it's own, I also don't won't to over whelm any parents to be all in one blog, so I will leave a "To Be Continued" right here and post part 2 as soon as I can.
Thursday, 19 March 2015
AUTO PILOT ISN'T ALWAYS TO BE TRUSTED
so unfortunately my ex was in my head today for reasons that I don't need to go into, it did however make me upset and I figured what better way to get rid of the feelings than blog right?!
I was 6 months separated. I had no interest what so ever in ever getting back together with my husband and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual. we got/get along well enough so no big deal.
The kids were 18 months old, 3 1/2 and 5 1/2 years old. I randomly met a guy through mutual friends.
He was so dreamy! He was a pilot, tall dark and handsome. He had two kids himself similar ages to my eldest two. So you know, he got it. Or so I thought. Anyhow, throughout my marriage I was quite neglected. My ex was not a touchy feely person, he wouldn't even hold my hand at home alone! I am a touchy feely person. I hug and kiss my friends always, even when I'm hanging out with them, I love a cuddle or linking arms etc. And, to me showing affection is showing the world you love the people around you but more importantly its showing that to them!
So along comes this guy, he's about 6 years older so he was a little more mature compared to the ex. He chased me, showed me he was interested yet was always a gentleman about it. I fell head over hills for him pretty quickly, he seemed to do the same. A few things didn't immediately add up though. and I guess being naive isn't even an excuse. After seven years of a torturous relationship I was willing to ignore the red flags and figured that it would be okay.
The biggest red flag was his ex wife. She had it in for me from day one. He had cheated on her. At the time of meeting him, he had fully disclosed this yet he said it was a once off with a random. (turns out there were at least 5 different women and they weren't all once offs or strangers!) After about 6 months, we started to integrate kids with each other and from there introduced the kids to each other. Long story short they got along fabulously well, to the point they all called each other brother and sister and wanted us to be married. The ex wife on the other hand, who lived in a hippy commune (without even a working toilet), was telling the kids I was a horrible person and not to talk to me etc. Basically anything nasty you could think of she was doing, including hitting on him and trying to get him to stay over at her house. He did on a few occasions. Now I am not that naive. I was furious about all this. The thing that really hurt was that he never supported me. Never stood up for me against her. It caused many fights and always ended with I should be the bigger person and ignore her. In the end I was the crazy one according to him. I did find texts on his phone accidentally (sort of) that proved other wise.
There were other things like a chick he was dating before me would send pictures and inappropriate texts. He said I was stupid and she meant nothing and didn't know why she would still be texting. (ridiculous we lasted beyond this point really). The problem is, I loved him dearly. He told me I was the one for him and that one day we would get married. We talked about the type of house we'd live in. He was close with my parents. He was Mr. Charisma. Could sell ice to Eskimos this man! He had me charmed beyond words and I just couldn't see straight when it came to him. Or i didn't want to is probably more accurate. Things got worse we were fighting more often. He had all but hidden me from his family playing down our relationship yet was practically living full time at my house with the kids and i.
I eventually got sick of arguing and feeling like the nut job he made me out to be and broke it off. Within 2 weeks we were sort of seeing each other again, its hard when you love someone. Then I found out he'd already run back to the chick that was texting throughout our entire relationship and was also seeing another chick he apparently was just friends with. I am almost positive this shit was happening when we were together. He was always away sporadic being that he was a pilot so there was plenty of opportunities.
After finally stepping away from the bastard and having some perspective, I realised he had constantly lied to me, he was for lack of a better term, a pathological liar! He believed his own stories, which always changed.
I am still deeply hurt from this relationship. I mourn the person I loved, but that person doesn't, and never did, exist. I don't know how to get closure from those feelings. I am so hard on the guys I now meet. I am so wary of falling for someone again who is only going to lie to me. It won't stop me loving, I want to love, it will just take its time I guess. Not only did he hurt me, he hurt my children! Although it may sound like I haven't mentioned this, it's only because that's the deepest hurt of all and I'm not sure writing about that is a good thing. Those scars are held very very close to my heart and are still fresh and raw.
I don't understand how a person can do this to another. I hope to meet an amazing man one day that is satisfied with me the way I am. Who doesn't feel the need to lie to me. A strong man that will walk by my side and put his arm around me because he is proud to show the world we are together. A man that can hold me up when I don't have the strength to hold myself up anymore, but lets me hold him when I am strong and he is not.
Blah Blah Blah, it's all sappy I know. You may now go and vomit.
thanks for letting me get that off my chest though!!!
I was 6 months separated. I had no interest what so ever in ever getting back together with my husband and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual. we got/get along well enough so no big deal.
The kids were 18 months old, 3 1/2 and 5 1/2 years old. I randomly met a guy through mutual friends.
He was so dreamy! He was a pilot, tall dark and handsome. He had two kids himself similar ages to my eldest two. So you know, he got it. Or so I thought. Anyhow, throughout my marriage I was quite neglected. My ex was not a touchy feely person, he wouldn't even hold my hand at home alone! I am a touchy feely person. I hug and kiss my friends always, even when I'm hanging out with them, I love a cuddle or linking arms etc. And, to me showing affection is showing the world you love the people around you but more importantly its showing that to them!
So along comes this guy, he's about 6 years older so he was a little more mature compared to the ex. He chased me, showed me he was interested yet was always a gentleman about it. I fell head over hills for him pretty quickly, he seemed to do the same. A few things didn't immediately add up though. and I guess being naive isn't even an excuse. After seven years of a torturous relationship I was willing to ignore the red flags and figured that it would be okay.
The biggest red flag was his ex wife. She had it in for me from day one. He had cheated on her. At the time of meeting him, he had fully disclosed this yet he said it was a once off with a random. (turns out there were at least 5 different women and they weren't all once offs or strangers!) After about 6 months, we started to integrate kids with each other and from there introduced the kids to each other. Long story short they got along fabulously well, to the point they all called each other brother and sister and wanted us to be married. The ex wife on the other hand, who lived in a hippy commune (without even a working toilet), was telling the kids I was a horrible person and not to talk to me etc. Basically anything nasty you could think of she was doing, including hitting on him and trying to get him to stay over at her house. He did on a few occasions. Now I am not that naive. I was furious about all this. The thing that really hurt was that he never supported me. Never stood up for me against her. It caused many fights and always ended with I should be the bigger person and ignore her. In the end I was the crazy one according to him. I did find texts on his phone accidentally (sort of) that proved other wise.
There were other things like a chick he was dating before me would send pictures and inappropriate texts. He said I was stupid and she meant nothing and didn't know why she would still be texting. (ridiculous we lasted beyond this point really). The problem is, I loved him dearly. He told me I was the one for him and that one day we would get married. We talked about the type of house we'd live in. He was close with my parents. He was Mr. Charisma. Could sell ice to Eskimos this man! He had me charmed beyond words and I just couldn't see straight when it came to him. Or i didn't want to is probably more accurate. Things got worse we were fighting more often. He had all but hidden me from his family playing down our relationship yet was practically living full time at my house with the kids and i.
I eventually got sick of arguing and feeling like the nut job he made me out to be and broke it off. Within 2 weeks we were sort of seeing each other again, its hard when you love someone. Then I found out he'd already run back to the chick that was texting throughout our entire relationship and was also seeing another chick he apparently was just friends with. I am almost positive this shit was happening when we were together. He was always away sporadic being that he was a pilot so there was plenty of opportunities.
After finally stepping away from the bastard and having some perspective, I realised he had constantly lied to me, he was for lack of a better term, a pathological liar! He believed his own stories, which always changed.
I am still deeply hurt from this relationship. I mourn the person I loved, but that person doesn't, and never did, exist. I don't know how to get closure from those feelings. I am so hard on the guys I now meet. I am so wary of falling for someone again who is only going to lie to me. It won't stop me loving, I want to love, it will just take its time I guess. Not only did he hurt me, he hurt my children! Although it may sound like I haven't mentioned this, it's only because that's the deepest hurt of all and I'm not sure writing about that is a good thing. Those scars are held very very close to my heart and are still fresh and raw.
I don't understand how a person can do this to another. I hope to meet an amazing man one day that is satisfied with me the way I am. Who doesn't feel the need to lie to me. A strong man that will walk by my side and put his arm around me because he is proud to show the world we are together. A man that can hold me up when I don't have the strength to hold myself up anymore, but lets me hold him when I am strong and he is not.
Blah Blah Blah, it's all sappy I know. You may now go and vomit.
thanks for letting me get that off my chest though!!!
Tuesday, 17 March 2015
JERKING ALL THE WAY THROUGH TOURETTE SYNDROME
I think growing up I always felt different. Never quite fitted in. My father and brother have Tourette Syndrome. I believe I have some elements of it in a mild manner. Neither of them swear (yes the stigma produced from Deuce Bigalo is still there). They have motor tics and vocal tics.
Today there tics are a lot less obvious than they were when they were younger. Obviously I didn't grow up with my dad but i did with my brother. It was at the least to say, hard.
My mother recalls that from the moment my bro was born he was hard work. The baby that never slept. Was never settled and content. As a toddler he was obsessed with any and all electronics, from the TV to the PowerPoint. He didn't go to sleep with a blanket or fave soft toy like most kids, he slept with a double adaptor! (For those who don't know, that's what you plug into your electrical outlet to allow more power points). So yeah, he was far from the norm from a very young age.
Although successful now, and happy. It wasn't always that way. Growing up, he hated me. Or that's how it felt. I was an easy going kid. bubbly and active. Always wanting to play with someone. My entire street was full of boys except one girl who was such a nancy she was scared of butterflies. I played with the boys when I was allowed. But that's the thing, i was never allowed. I was sworn at from a young age told to piss off. that I'm an idiot and that he wouldn't play with me. It didn't stop me, id tag along anyway if i could. I learned pretty quickly how to keep up with the boys on my bike. They would always manage to run away from me and loose me though.
It is interesting reflecting back now as an adult, I know most kids are this way with younger siblings, my own kids are. But it was different, it was like he had a seething hatred for me. It was only when he wanted something that he was nice to me. The next door neighbour and him talked me into spending all my pocket money at the local milk bar on lollies and ice creams! I was eager to please if it meant i would be able to hang out with them. Mum busted them! pretty sure the wooden spoon came out that day!!
I look at him now and find it bleeding obvious that he also has Asperges. Not that he has been diagnosed as there is no point, but it does make me understand things differently. My brother still treats me in a similar manner to this day. Perhaps a little less childish but not much.
Think about his perspective for a minute though, here's a kid that cannot keep his head arms and basically his body from jerking around in constant movement. He cannot sit still like a normal kid. He makes noises and sounds that he can't control. The pressure inside you when you try to control it is unbelievable and inevitably you make the movement anyhow but ten times worse as it is realising the built up pressure of trying to control it. I'm not going to lie, he had it tough and was picked on.
Dad worked long days and only had Sundays off. He too suffers from these body tics. Socially for both of them, to leave an environment where they felt safe and comfortable having their tics was a strain. People don't always mean to be rude but often they are. The self consciousness of knowing people were staring and wondering whats wrong must have been horrible. I have never felt embarrassed or ashamed of either of them for their tics. This did mean however, mum and dad had a very small social circle and would rarely go anywhere. We didn't have people over every weekend like I do, as kids we didn't have family friends outside of school friends. Even then neither my brother or I had many friends.
Tourette Syndrome is still not very well researched. It is known that it's a condition of the brain where the sparks lets say, function differently than you or I. They are not sick, they do not need to be treated as though they are broken. It is not a mental impairment. In fact you will find the opposite, a lot of people who have this syndrome are regarded as highly intellectual. Of course the physical side of it can be hard to manage and their are cases of people that have unbearable tics that effect their daily life. For this there is treatment and it's amazing!
So although I sympathise for my brother a great deal and wish that he hadn't been dealt this card in life, I can't change that. I do however feel as though I got a raw deal too. I made weird sounds at school and had little movements. I was picked on for it and made to feel as though I was retarded or strange. People didn't bother to get to know me. I came home at the end of the day to my brother. Not a friend, a sibling that I could stick together with and make it okay. Just another jerk in the path of my life.
I know this sounds harsh, and I am not having a whinge and asking for you all to feel sorry for me, I'm just calling a spade a spade. I have the most amazing and supportive group of friends in my life now and I am conscious of how my kids treat each other. At this point there have been a few slight signs in the kids that may suggest they could have tourettes but for the most part they are happy healthy normal kids. I hope they never have to experience the crap I did. I hope they are always a team and stick together. I am a very different mother than mine was, not better or worse just different. Perhaps that will make a difference. perhaps not.
SPOS (SINGULAR PARENT OVERDOSE SYNDROME)
I haven't posted in a while, life has been testing me a little at the least to say.
5 Yr old boy
I Answer to… nothing.
I Drop everything everywhere that is inconvenient to mum, including down the toilet and blocking it.
I know EVERYTHING. Don't believe me? just ask me!
I will eat anything as long as it is cereal of a chocolate form in a green bowl with milk.
If Skylanders and Mindcraft were real life I would be winning at both. (they are not!)
My hygiene is questionable
Yes I came home from school with yogurt stains on my bottom and no, I had no good explanation for my mum.
7 Yr old girl
Everything is either going to make me CRY or SCREAM!!!!!
I want you to walk me into school but as soon as i find my friends i want you to leave me alone!!
Homework, no way ho zah!!!
I ride horses all day Saturday and don't feel tired or sick but ask me to go for a walk and I've been struck with bubonic plague and cannot move. Seriously!
9 Yr old girl going on 19
Hormones
I will not hold your hand or kiss you in public
Hormones
I'm pretty sure I am amazing and that you should treat me accordingly
Hormones
When asked to do chores I will find the most long arsed procrastinating way to do such chore and whinge the entire time doing so.
I will, I repeat, I will answer back
5 Yr old boy
I Answer to… nothing.
I Drop everything everywhere that is inconvenient to mum, including down the toilet and blocking it.
I know EVERYTHING. Don't believe me? just ask me!
I will eat anything as long as it is cereal of a chocolate form in a green bowl with milk.
If Skylanders and Mindcraft were real life I would be winning at both. (they are not!)
My hygiene is questionable
Yes I came home from school with yogurt stains on my bottom and no, I had no good explanation for my mum.
7 Yr old girl
Everything is either going to make me CRY or SCREAM!!!!!
I want you to walk me into school but as soon as i find my friends i want you to leave me alone!!
Homework, no way ho zah!!!
I ride horses all day Saturday and don't feel tired or sick but ask me to go for a walk and I've been struck with bubonic plague and cannot move. Seriously!
9 Yr old girl going on 19
Hormones
I will not hold your hand or kiss you in public
Hormones
I'm pretty sure I am amazing and that you should treat me accordingly
Hormones
When asked to do chores I will find the most long arsed procrastinating way to do such chore and whinge the entire time doing so.
I will, I repeat, I will answer back
Sunday, 22 February 2015
A STROKE OF MISFORTUNE
A friend suggested I have a look at an account on instagram called Yoga girl. She is amazing. the reason though was not the yoga. She lost her best friend/soul mate/sister from another mother. At exactly the same time her friend was gone in a car crash she collapsed at an airport with a ruptured appendix. She tells her story with emotions and heart. You can feel her loss and pain and it hurts to read in a good way.
When I was 32 weeks pregnant with my first kiddie, My partner suffered a stroke. He collapsed at work and was rushed to hospital without them knowing what had happened yet.
We spent 7 hours in emergency waiting for a bed in a city hospital. He had suffered a massive bleed in his brain and had lapsed into a coma which was further induced to keep him stable.
Eventually a bed was available and he was airlifted down the coast to the hospital.
I was stuck three hours away. We followed down in the car all the while the doctors were calling me and keeping me updated with his condition.
By the time i made it to the hospital, they had completed surgery and trained the blood from his head. He was stable yet still in a coma and the outcome of damage from the stroke was yet to be known.
The doctor that performed the life saving surgery was the same doctor that only nine months earlier had saved my brothers life after serious head trauma from an accident (I have already written of his story in earlier posts)
Once my partner was finally aroused from his coma, he had no speech problems thankfully. His memory was atrocious and he was completely paralysed down his right side.
In short he was to recover as best he could before they performed brain surgery to cut out the vein that had burst causing the bleed. This was around 4/5 weeks.
He had brain surgery planned for the 5th and baby was due on the 10th. Not knowing how well he would be after the surgery I did not want to take the risk of him missing the birth.
The doctors induced me and my daughter was born in 5 hours in the 1st. A blissful 4 days with her was had by us all, then the surgery.
He came through really well and only had the right leg to continue to work on in physio.
There are a multitude of emotions that went along this journey with me, I will detail them one day. today is not the day. I am not in a frame of mind to go back to this place, it was hard, lonely and scary, the feelings continued long after the incident.
I have no great lesson for you that has come from this event in my life. I don't believe there is one to tell. It happened, It was shit, It still is shit and makes me cry. But I am here I survived as did he. I wouldn't say either of us are the same as we were before that happened yet none of us stay the same anyway so perhaps it wouldn't have altered our path regardless.
Moments in life test you and your reaction can sometimes surprise yourself. I know I am strong, stronger again after a moment such as this.
When I was 32 weeks pregnant with my first kiddie, My partner suffered a stroke. He collapsed at work and was rushed to hospital without them knowing what had happened yet.
We spent 7 hours in emergency waiting for a bed in a city hospital. He had suffered a massive bleed in his brain and had lapsed into a coma which was further induced to keep him stable.
Eventually a bed was available and he was airlifted down the coast to the hospital.
I was stuck three hours away. We followed down in the car all the while the doctors were calling me and keeping me updated with his condition.
By the time i made it to the hospital, they had completed surgery and trained the blood from his head. He was stable yet still in a coma and the outcome of damage from the stroke was yet to be known.
The doctor that performed the life saving surgery was the same doctor that only nine months earlier had saved my brothers life after serious head trauma from an accident (I have already written of his story in earlier posts)
Once my partner was finally aroused from his coma, he had no speech problems thankfully. His memory was atrocious and he was completely paralysed down his right side.
In short he was to recover as best he could before they performed brain surgery to cut out the vein that had burst causing the bleed. This was around 4/5 weeks.
He had brain surgery planned for the 5th and baby was due on the 10th. Not knowing how well he would be after the surgery I did not want to take the risk of him missing the birth.
The doctors induced me and my daughter was born in 5 hours in the 1st. A blissful 4 days with her was had by us all, then the surgery.
He came through really well and only had the right leg to continue to work on in physio.
There are a multitude of emotions that went along this journey with me, I will detail them one day. today is not the day. I am not in a frame of mind to go back to this place, it was hard, lonely and scary, the feelings continued long after the incident.
I have no great lesson for you that has come from this event in my life. I don't believe there is one to tell. It happened, It was shit, It still is shit and makes me cry. But I am here I survived as did he. I wouldn't say either of us are the same as we were before that happened yet none of us stay the same anyway so perhaps it wouldn't have altered our path regardless.
Moments in life test you and your reaction can sometimes surprise yourself. I know I am strong, stronger again after a moment such as this.
Thursday, 29 January 2015
TINDER….
So apparently I just had a "move" put on me through Tinder and Facebook!
This is just plain creepy in my eyes.
So yes I have a Tinder account. Selfies and all. I've met a few guys on there in the last maybe 8 months. They have been nice and we have chatted and exchanged numbers long before we met up or have had friends in common. Even though nothing has quite worked out, I have been fortunate enough to not have any bad experiences… unless this counts.
So there is a guy on Tinder who has popped up quiet regularly and for some reason I keep swiping no. He's not ugly or weird, he doesn't have any fishing pics, FWD pics or a selfie with a tiger. trust me, there are far to many tigers on Tinder for my likings and they are not attractive.
There was just something about his photo that didn't appeal to me. So that's all good, no harm done.
Just the other day I received a fried request on Facebook from this random guy I've never heard of and with only one mutual friend, Its the guy from tinder! I questioned it. I sent him a message saying do I know you? His response was 'Oh sorry I thought I knew you but obviously not sorry!'
I checked the messages again and had missed the earlier one saying "Hey my tinder account is playing up so I thought we could chat through facebook"
Here's my concerns...
A: I have never had anything to do with you on tinder
B: How on earth did you find me on facebook with only my first name and a pic to go by
C: You are a freeky stalker and have creaked me out so even if I thought you were decent before... I certainly don't now!!!
So I text my friend, our one and only mutual facebook friend to get the low down. He said he works with him and hes okay. Apparently its the new move to get chicks chatting to you! Had we have already chatted on tinder this maybe would fly... maybe!
so he has got no response on tinder then stalked me on facebook and then lied about it all to get me to message him???
this dude must be hard up... amiright?
anyway! good lesson to learn, be very cautious on social media! especially dating sites
This is just plain creepy in my eyes.
So yes I have a Tinder account. Selfies and all. I've met a few guys on there in the last maybe 8 months. They have been nice and we have chatted and exchanged numbers long before we met up or have had friends in common. Even though nothing has quite worked out, I have been fortunate enough to not have any bad experiences… unless this counts.
So there is a guy on Tinder who has popped up quiet regularly and for some reason I keep swiping no. He's not ugly or weird, he doesn't have any fishing pics, FWD pics or a selfie with a tiger. trust me, there are far to many tigers on Tinder for my likings and they are not attractive.
There was just something about his photo that didn't appeal to me. So that's all good, no harm done.
Just the other day I received a fried request on Facebook from this random guy I've never heard of and with only one mutual friend, Its the guy from tinder! I questioned it. I sent him a message saying do I know you? His response was 'Oh sorry I thought I knew you but obviously not sorry!'
I checked the messages again and had missed the earlier one saying "Hey my tinder account is playing up so I thought we could chat through facebook"
Here's my concerns...
A: I have never had anything to do with you on tinder
B: How on earth did you find me on facebook with only my first name and a pic to go by
C: You are a freeky stalker and have creaked me out so even if I thought you were decent before... I certainly don't now!!!
So I text my friend, our one and only mutual facebook friend to get the low down. He said he works with him and hes okay. Apparently its the new move to get chicks chatting to you! Had we have already chatted on tinder this maybe would fly... maybe!
so he has got no response on tinder then stalked me on facebook and then lied about it all to get me to message him???
this dude must be hard up... amiright?
anyway! good lesson to learn, be very cautious on social media! especially dating sites
Sunday, 25 January 2015
Seeking Social Filter: Inquire Within
So my friends love vinyl, records for those of you that are unsure of the term vinyl.
We went to our local bar this arv whilst our two friends took over the decks and played our fav tracks. We listened, drank cider and sang along, LOUDLY!
I was so excited to go this arv that when waiting to be picked up from home I saw a car pull up at the house and assumed without much checking that it was the girls, I stepped out of the house down the driveway and as loud as possible i busted out a big "well hi there ladies!" waving my arm as though i was directing an aeroplane! It wasn't the! in fact I've no idea who it was. I mumbled something to the effect of oh sorry your not my friends which may have made it worse and scurried back inside.
It's similar to when someone is smiling and waving, you return the gesture only to find that it's not you they are waving at but the person behind you. Cue red face.
Ever since I was young people have intrigued me, I love people watching, humans are fascinating creatures right? I've had this bad habit longer than I can remember. I will be at the supermarket with someone, and people further along in the isle are either doing something weird or having a Barney (fight) etc, I am fixated on them while the person I'm with is perusing the contents of the shelf next to me, either the people are conscious of my attention or the commotion is over and I turn to the person next to me only to find with great dread, they are no longer there. Nope not in sight at all. Completely moved on. Which leads me to realise I have been standing there, alone, gawking at these poor people like I am Judge Judy doing her Friday night grocery shop and about to sentence them to counselling sessions for being poor human beings in society!
I am great at embarrassing myself! Saying the first thing that comes into mind and then having to try and back peddle to mend my social error. My friends say my brain doesn't have a filter. I wonder if I was born this way, or if it can be fixed! Then again, me with a filter would just be plain boring! No-one wants that now do we.
Thursday, 22 January 2015
1am thoughts...
The things going through my brain right now, in no particular order…
- Tomorrow is Friday! Wait, it's already Friday, but in order for it to be Friday I must sleep after Thursday and wake up on Friday. It is still Friday now anyway.
- I must have a script filled tomorrow or I will die… okay that's an exaggeration.
- My cat is getting really fat, can cats go on a diet?
- I wish the wind would stop blowing the blind against the curtains.
- Is anyone even reading my blogs? Why is no one following my blog yet?
- I have to get up at 6am… that's 5 hours sleep roughly if I go to sleep… NOW.
- If the big bang created the world… then who created the universe? who created the vast infinity of space in the first place?
- How excellent are iPhones, I love you iPhone!
- I really must mow the backyard tomorrow if it doesn't rain.
- Okay 4 hours and 48 minutes sleep, ready and sleep… NOW.
- Nope still awake.
- I read about this breathing technique that puts you to sleep in ten seconds.. or was that makes you pass out? well… either way right?
- I should paint my room one day soon.
- What was that random bumping noise in the house which can surely only be explained as someone coming to murder and kill me!!! oh, it's just the cat!
- He really is fat.
- I wonder what my ex boyfriend is doing right now… sleeping I guess.
- Stupid thought, who cares what he's doing the cheating bastard.
- hrmmmm I hope the next time I run into him I'm wearing that great new dress I bought the other day! It really does make my legs look good.
- I should go to that shop again and see if they have any cardies to go with it for autumn.
- What shoes would match?
- Shit, must make sure kids school shoes fit before next week.
- Uniform shop is open tomorrow, have to buy girls new shirts.
- Oh god, school. waking up making lunches and repeat again for 10 weeks.
- Seriously though, how greats sleeping in!
- 4 hours and 22 minutes… go to sleep!!!
This is how my brain taunts me at night, and why I am awake at 1 am. It may or may not be my ADHD.
Go F*#& your self(ie)
What happened to the good old boy meets girl, boy asks girl out etc etc, we all know the way this goes. Is it okay to look at a persons picture, their 45 words or less description and decide on the spot if you will swipe left or right. Dating is hard, sometimes scary and sometimes awesome. Now it's reached a whole new level thanks to apps!
I don't think i'm ugly, i'm of reasonable height and try to look after my figure (Please note I said try, I can't help it if the couch swallows my bum somedays). I have reservations about myself as does everyone but how do you put your best
I have that friend that is always, and I mean always, taking "selfies". I wonder what her mind says to her somedays… I'm on the couch, selfie, I'm waking the dog, selfie, I'm eating, selfie, my hair looks good in this light, selfie… selfie of her taking a selfie, and don't even get me started about the selfie stick!! Somehow with all this selfieing, she always looks great. Me on the other hand, well… I don't have a clue as to how to take a selfie without looking sightly constipated. It takes skill to hold the camera phone backwards and find the button to press on the other side. I managed about ten 'constipated' shots before I realised I could use the front camera. I'm aware of my stupidity, it doesn't need to be said!
I took one sitting near the window thinking it would be a nice light, checking the photo I realise my neighbour chose exactly the same time to walk to his letterbox, in his bath robe and underwear. The robe was open.
Bedroom, it overlooks my back garden, no neighbours in sight. Do I sit on the bed or stand. Is it weird to be just standing in your bedroom? Is sitting on the bed implying more than I want it to?
This is becoming ridiculously harder than it should be.
Bathroom, no. Ive seen the chick that didn't flush before her selfie! Laundry, what was I even thinking, they are looking for a girlfriend not a maid. Kitchen, thats safe surely. So I finally got a selfie that is not great but it will do!
Now to figure out how to load the damn thing to the app.
Now to figure out how to load the damn thing to the app.
Tuesday, 20 January 2015
Accidents are sometimes just accidents… Part III
This part of the story will seem faster than the others, partly because someone suggested should reduce the see of my blogs but mostly because t went so fast from here.
Once aroused from his coma, Billy started to, I want to use the word improve but that would probably be somewhat misguiding, gain back his … life, for lack of a better term.
Mum was down at the cottage and the phone rang, dad said you better get up to Billy's room right now. Immediately thinking the worst after such a horrific past 5 weeks, mum dropped everything and bolted to the ICU. When she entered the room, Billy was sitting up in a chair!!! He looked over to her and said "Hi ma". The significance of this was not something that can be put into words. He was alive. Able to talk and sit up. He knew who she was.
I later that day received a phone call from dad asking if I wanted to speak to Billy. I was unsure of what to expect. The conversation was brief. It was also similar to talking on the phone with a hung child. I hung up and cried. The good sort of crying.
It seemed like every day Billy would improve further. He had to learn how to walk, talk, eat, and function as a human being once again. Like a sped up infant of sorts. It had been established that Billy hadn't sustained any permanent injury physically that was obvious. His brain was functioning and responding also. It was still a matter of time though to see if the developments would continue. He could progress only to a certain mental stage if the brain was injured.
Once moving about better, Billy was transferred to a rehab centre. It wasn't long after that he was sent home in the care of my parents. From here my parents did everything they possibly could to help him improve daily. Improve he did. He manned to secure his drivers licence, and within three months was heading back to the city to return to work. Now don't get me wrong, he wasn't anywhere near 100% but he was getting there. My parents moved with him to the city and dad would go to work with Billy everyday and help him with the manual parts of his job and also driving as Billy would tire easily. Within time there was simply no need for dad and I think he may have been sowing Billy down!
The doctors say he is a walking miracle. He was always different than everyone else growing up. Whether or not that is the key to his recovery or not who knows. Perhaps his brain works differently than others. Perhaps it just wasn't his time to go so to speak.
I am a believer to an extent that things happen for a reason, the reason isn't always as obvious as we would like or perhaps it's not for us but intended for someone else. A lot of people were involved and affected in different ways regarding Billy's accident. He has did not finch or have some life altering moment of clarity. He got back to his plan and got on with life. He is now a very high achiever in his field of work and is doing fabulous things. So perhaps we all went through this moment in our life in order for it to help someone else. Or sometimes, Accidents are just… accidents.
Once aroused from his coma, Billy started to, I want to use the word improve but that would probably be somewhat misguiding, gain back his … life, for lack of a better term.
Mum was down at the cottage and the phone rang, dad said you better get up to Billy's room right now. Immediately thinking the worst after such a horrific past 5 weeks, mum dropped everything and bolted to the ICU. When she entered the room, Billy was sitting up in a chair!!! He looked over to her and said "Hi ma". The significance of this was not something that can be put into words. He was alive. Able to talk and sit up. He knew who she was.
I later that day received a phone call from dad asking if I wanted to speak to Billy. I was unsure of what to expect. The conversation was brief. It was also similar to talking on the phone with a hung child. I hung up and cried. The good sort of crying.
It seemed like every day Billy would improve further. He had to learn how to walk, talk, eat, and function as a human being once again. Like a sped up infant of sorts. It had been established that Billy hadn't sustained any permanent injury physically that was obvious. His brain was functioning and responding also. It was still a matter of time though to see if the developments would continue. He could progress only to a certain mental stage if the brain was injured.
Once moving about better, Billy was transferred to a rehab centre. It wasn't long after that he was sent home in the care of my parents. From here my parents did everything they possibly could to help him improve daily. Improve he did. He manned to secure his drivers licence, and within three months was heading back to the city to return to work. Now don't get me wrong, he wasn't anywhere near 100% but he was getting there. My parents moved with him to the city and dad would go to work with Billy everyday and help him with the manual parts of his job and also driving as Billy would tire easily. Within time there was simply no need for dad and I think he may have been sowing Billy down!
The doctors say he is a walking miracle. He was always different than everyone else growing up. Whether or not that is the key to his recovery or not who knows. Perhaps his brain works differently than others. Perhaps it just wasn't his time to go so to speak.
I am a believer to an extent that things happen for a reason, the reason isn't always as obvious as we would like or perhaps it's not for us but intended for someone else. A lot of people were involved and affected in different ways regarding Billy's accident. He has did not finch or have some life altering moment of clarity. He got back to his plan and got on with life. He is now a very high achiever in his field of work and is doing fabulous things. So perhaps we all went through this moment in our life in order for it to help someone else. Or sometimes, Accidents are just… accidents.
Sunday, 18 January 2015
Accidents are sometimes just accidents. Part II
Recap: My brother Billy has had a car accident. Brain trauma as a result. He is in a coma and we have been by his side.
After 2 days of being at the hospital with Billy, my boyfriend has arrived to take me home. Billy is in I guess for lack of better term, like the news says, a serious but stable condition. I have to go back home to work. I am an advertising manager at a real estate company in town. Although my bosses were more than understanding, there is no one else to do my job so I must return home.
My mother and father are staying around the corner from the hospital at this point as we have absolutely no idea how long etc Billy will be there. Leaving someone in this condition is a very hard thing to do. Even if it's to get a cup of coffee and fresh air. How do you know that the minute you leave something won't happen. He should have someone he knows with him when he wakes, what if he doesn't wake and, in fact, he passes away. Again, shouldn't we be there when this happens. Conflicting feelings really hurt.
Driving home in a car on the highway, away from your critically ill brother after he has just had a car accident was a very traumatic experience. The thoughts that enter your mind are not nice. I kept imagining the accident as I had formed it from the information we were given. I kept feeling his panic and then his pain, then my own pain as the emptiness inside my body couldn't be filled with any relief. He wasn't alright, and he certainly wasn't lucky to escape without injury. At this point, it was a matter of breathing when i needed to and attempting to function as each moment passed.
I called mum as soon as I waked in the door to let her know we had arrived safe. Because really, we didn't need a family discount of two patients in the same hospital did we! Billy is still as he was before I left.
Days went by and nothing changed. The doctors began taking to my parents about different scenarios. He has had extreme swelling from the head trauma. His body had begun to swell.
The next few weeks I cannot describe in detail or, perhaps not even in order. They were a blur and I felt so far away. My parents moved into one of the on site cottages for family that didn't live in town. They spent each day by Billy's side. As a result mum had to resign from her new job which was easy to do given the circumstances but heartbreaking as she was beginning a new career, a new chapter in her life and was loving it. Of course she has no regrets or ill feelings towards anyone in particular just anger at the cruelty of life and timing i guess.
What followed in the next few weeks may have been harder for my parents than the initial accident, although that would need to be clarified with them. Billy, still in a coma, needed a tracheotomy (the cut in your throat and a breathing pipe inserted), his brain still had serious swelling and the doctors began to talk about the strong likelihood of him being either brain dead or near vegetative state. In this position they had options, none of which you would call even mildly positive.
Option one: Turn off the machines. Let him go, make peace with a very sick human who seems not to have a fair or easy road ahead of him let alone a future for them without involving a heavily cared for son.
Option two: A new method they were trialling at the time, without any data or statistical evidence that it even works. Go to surgery, remove a decent size of skull around his forehead area. This would allow more room for the brain that is swollen to expand reducing the pressure inside the brain at the moment. Outcome being, it would help the brain tea and the swelling would reduce… So they hoped.
Option three: Do nothing at this moment other than what is already being done. Continue to monitor him and wait and watch.
Before I give you the option they chose, picture them. Living by the side of their 24 year old sons bedside in ICU.
Now if you have never been to an ICU (happy for those who say they have not) It isn't like a normal hospital room. It isn't like emergency. It is rooms with glass windows so that the patients can be monitored and visible at all times. You have a nurse that has one or two patients depending on the care needed and the severity of the patient. There are machines everywhere. It is not a happy place to be. People are either very ill or dying. The staff however are amazing and I can never express to them my gratitude and awe I have for them.
This is the space they have lived in for weeks. They know the staff and the staff know them. This doesn't really help though does it as you don't get some miracle cure that they were keeping a secret for the people they like. It does help though to talk. My family are talkers, and are very good at it!
Mum and dad, faced with their options, spoke to everyone they could to gather information and respected opinions but in the end what it came down to was; no one else can make this decision, it was entirely up to them alone.
Option 1 at this point was not an option. And I am very pleased that was the case. Option 2 was a tricky one. The concept was simple and in theory it made sense. Yet here is a guy that's had his head smashed and crushed and, who knew what damage was to come from it. Does it really make sense to make another big whole in his already fragile skull. Would it in fact even work? what if the brain continued to swell and more pressure arose from this, too much pressure. Perhaps the skull was still protecting the brain regardless of the pressure.
Option 3 at this point in time was the only one that made any sense. If Billy wasn't going to survive it wouldn't be because we either pulled the plug so to speak, or because we allowed doctors to knock more holes into his head than was already there. So that is what they decided. Option 3. More watching and more waiting.
At some point, as I said I am unsure of the time line of all this, Billy after lying on his back for so long, began to develop fluid on his lungs. The nurses would roll him and do what they could to try and remove it but when a man is flat on his back not moving at all there is only so much that can be done. As a result, he acquired an infection in the chest. The brain swelling and trauma all of a sudden become the secondary concern, this is now what was threatening his life.
I can imagine what your thinking, really? like he needs that! And yes I distinctly remember some very unladylike words escaping my mouth at no one in particular.
I believe this was eventually cleared up after some very heavy steroids and anti biotics were given to him.
We are roughly at around 4 weeks of being in a coma. I'm am 100% sure there are a million more things that went on and happened that even I wasn't told about, not for any other reason than the fact things changed so quickly. What was a problem in one hour may not have been a few hours later and so I tended to be told what was happening at that moment in time rather than a report of everything.
I am making an assumption here as I am not completely sure, but, it makes sense with an educated guess, that the swelling managed to reduce. It was time to try and wake Billy, Bring him out of his coma. Their wasn't any specific expectations nor was there reason to believe he wouldn't wake.
Before I tell you this part I think as a side story, and for those of you who have certain beliefs, this is an interesting tale. My grandmother was very close with my brother. After our sea change, my brother hated our new town and new people. He also suffers from Tourettes like my father, and I personally believe their is a great possibility of asperges yet this has never been diagnosed nor has there been a need to. It does explain his character though. Billy doesn't like change, he is a creature of habit. A year after the big move he decided he would return to the city and live with our grandmother. Finishing school with his friends and going onto university there. So as you could easily conclude, my grandmother and him were extremely close. His accident took a very hard toll on her not unlike my parents. For some time my parents more so my father and I had been taking a strong interest in spirituality and the possibilities that go along with it. We attended weekly group meditation and made some great friends whilst gaining knowledge that seemed to make sense to us.
A now family friend, but then more of an acquaintance of ours, was a soothe Sayer (tarot cards, photos, objects and crystals were her tools). My grandmother contacted her and sent through a recent photo of Billy. I'm unsure of what she was hoping to hear from this friend and although i have my beliefs, to me the beliefs lay more in the area of reincarnation and afterlife rather than tarot readings and star signs etc.
Anyhow, unbeknown to us at the time, my grandmother had a reading done from Billy's photo. Our friend was aware of the situation and was happy to oblige. The result was her friend and her seeing both the same thing from his picture. A smile and a thumbs up.
When my grandmother phoned my parents and explained this to them, it hurt them. Badly. their response… Did she not understand the gravity of the situation. Our boy is so sick and we don't even know if he will survive let alone be fine! We don't need this right now, we need to focus on him and getting through each day. It was from there dismissed.
So as i was saying before, it was time to wake Billy. Of course I had been down and back a few times in this four week period to visit him but more than anything to see my parents. In my view, they were looking after him, I needed to look after them.
Even though Billy was in a coma, it was medically induced further so that he wouldn't come in and out of arousal and to allow his body and brain to rest. In order to bring him out of the coma they explained they would reduce the medicine that was sedating him and assess him from there. This is certainly not like the movies, the patient does not flutter their eyes a few times and awaken with a smile on their face surrounded by 10 family members with way to much makeup and very high hair.
I wasn't at the hospital when this happened so I am telling you this part second hand yet it is from the mouths of mum and dad so it is reliable i assure you!
As the medicine was reduced, the nurse, (who incidentally was also named Billy, although he was very short in stature and my Billy is over 6 foot, so they were aptly and endearingly named Big Bill and little Bill) would come in and out of the room attempting to wake Big Bill.
He would rub and beat on his chest whilst yelling his name, as you would to someone you fear may be unconscious. This may sound brutal but there was some serious drugs in Billy's system and it would take that just to get a flinch.
Mum said it reminded her of trying to wake him when he was a teenager and it was lunchtime and he was still in bed. My own kids are not yet teenagers but I'm sure those of you who have teenagers can certainly relate.
The first few times little Bill tried, big Bill murmured and sort of reacted like someone had woken him from a really good dream and he didn't want to open his eyes. This was positive. The next time after some more of the medicine had worn, Big Bill woke a little more and wait for it… raised his hand slightly and gave us a thumbs up!!! Yup, that just happened!
Now, take from that what you will. I can assure you our friend had never met Billy and Billy never was known for always giving a thumbs up. I am not saying this is evidence of anything or was it some Divine intervention. In fact what it was to us is probably private. and not something that needs to be focused on. All I can say is that it did give us hope. More than we had had the previous four weeks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)