Just show up and watch what happens!

Hi,
well - not had a lot to say really, so haven't! But just so you know, I'm still feeling enthusiastic about my year, if rather surprised at how it's turned out so far!

I'm still waiting to see the specialist about my knee - there was a brief flurry the other week, when I thought I was going back to work, but the GP said I shouldn't really go back until I'd seen the specialist. As far as I know, that's going to be in about three weeks... I'm having another chat with the GP tomorrow - my main concern is that I haven't yet had physio, and the other knee was very sore for a while (until I switched how I used the crutches to support it for a while instead). I've fallen through every gap in the system but - I can't help feeling there is some purpose to it all somehow. Anyway I can't change anything by worrying, so there's no point is there?!

Meantime I've been doing lots of reading and meditating. I grow more and more fascinated by the thought that nothing is solid - I mean, obviously it is, but it isn't, not at the molecular level. Just as I have always been stunned by the fact that all the things I do online which look so real on screen are fuelled by a series of ones and zeros, so my 'real' life is basically a load of energy pulses at various frequencies. On a sub-atomic level we are in constant motion, as are tables, plants, mountains and planets. I find that mind-blowing.

As I've read about meditation, I've been interested to come across the concept of the sound of 'Aaah' as the Sound of God. When I was a little girl, I had a phobia about this very sound - and I could never quite put into words the feeling it evoked in me. If people were chatting and I could see one of them understanding a point and getting ready to say, "Ah! I see what you mean!" I would shiver in terror, but couldn never explain properly as I couldn't say the word. I came to know it as my 'Ah!' feeling but even saying that frightened me.

I wonder now. I wonder if that feeling (as though the whole world was in my chest, spinning around out of control and so big I would explode) isn't a little akin to the feeling people in the Bible had when they were struck dumb by the presence of angels. I wasn't in a place to give it a spiritual interpretation back then, but now I wonder...

For the first time, I am living in an empty nest - my daughters now both live abroad. I was fairly sure I'd be fine, but having never lived alone before (I don't count student digs, where there is always someone around!) I didn't quite know what to expect.

The first couple of days were a little strange, a definite feeling of bereavement and emptiness - but it happened to be when the snow was at its worst and I was pretty literally stuck in the house. As I'm still using crutches and feeling quite disabled in some ways, it was a very strange time, as though Someone was saying, "Your nest is empty, and you are going to have to sit in it all week and think about it!" Which was actually quite a good tactic for me - it's how I used to deal with all my old phobias; I've always faced fear by mentally picking it up by the scruff of the neck and facing it until it holds no more fear. (My theory is that there are two types of people - the ones who react to toothache by booking the earliest appointment possible, and the ones who put off the dentist as long as they can. I'm the first kind - I see procrastinating as prolonging the worry of the inevitable!)

So - I sat in my house (feeling quite trapped, I must admit) and Faced it Out.

And I feel fine. I'm enjoying having my own space. I can be quiet when I want (which is a lot) and I can read, and I can fill the fridge with things I love to eat but wouldn't necessarily impose on my daughters. (Although I have discovered I've developed an allergy to lychees, which is really annoying - since I started with hayfever I have become allergic to some fruits and nuts, fortunately not majorly, but enough to stop me enjoying them).

I went for a walk in the park a few days ago and was suddenly overwhelmed with memories of being there with my daughter, and the time I ran a race there and she popped out of the crowd to take a photo - and I did stop for a cry, but that's okay. I've worked for many years to get in touch with my feelings; I'm not going to stop them coming up or be afraid of them. Anyway some of those tears were for my knee I think! I can't quite imagine ever running again, although I think it's highly likely I shall.

I've always had moments where my heart has been gripped by a sudden nostalgia, when I walk past an Early Learning Centre, for example, or see someone with two little girls in a cafe... in French, 'nostalgie' is 'homesickness' - and I think that's a very good description of those feelings - homesickness for the past. I suspect a lot of the Empty Nest stuff people go through is about realising just how far away that past is, a country they can't ever visit again. We are all refugees, in a way.

And yet - what about the present? The future? I can't help feeling excited about what my life will be in 6 months, 6 years from now... After all, if it's all down to bundles of energy shifting around in some incomprehensibly intelligent fashion, then there is A Purpose to my life, and all I have to do is show up every day and watch what happens!

Just a quick update - I went to the physiotherapist on Thursday, and was given crutches. They're helpful for walking, but they do make me feel pretty disabled in all other ways - I can't carry things or even get in and out of a car without a great fuss! Still, it never harms to gain an understanding of other people, and I feel very lucky that (as far as I know) this is only a temporary blip in my life.

However, there was a surprise for me - the physio found the results of my scan. And although I had 'a classic meniscal tear', in fact there wasn't one in evidence. What they think they've found is a broken bone in my knee! This would explain why it 'feels like a broken leg' as I remarked to the doctor through gritted teeth and sobs a few weeks ago. To be fair to him, nothing in my history would have made him suspect that I really had broken it. It's a but of a mystery, but one that hopefully the orthopaedic specialist will solve in the New Year.

The effect on me has been to make me feel quite brave! Although rationally I know that a lot of injuries are just as, if not MORE, painful than a broken bone, I feel Brave. I was worrying that I was being a bit of a wimp instead of just getting on with it... but now I knwo I've been in legitimate pain, it somehow feels better!

I did ask if I'd done any damage by walking on it and he said no (good to keep the joint moving) BUT the crutches are to help take weight off the leg - so a bit of a mixed message there... anyway I should know more quite soon. The pain is bearable at the moment. And it may well be a matter of just waiting for it to heal anyway, so I can do that right now!

What an interesting year it's turning out to be! I don't think I could have foreseen this...

I hope all your plans for Christmas are going well , and that the snow isn't disrupting any travel plans. We have hardly had any snow, despite being in the North(ish). For once, I don't mind - crutches don't come with snowchains!

Waiting...

Hi,
Sorry to have been away a while, I'm trying to get this knee pain sorted! I ended up going back to the doctor and sitting sobbing in his office, and he was very kind and gave me some different drugs. They don't stop the pain but they do dull it for a couple of hours now and again.

I think they need to research the effect of using a stick on the language centres of the brain! I have begun to use archaic language (such as 'joshing' instead of 'teasing') in what I can only assume is some Neuro-linguistic response to using walking aids!

However - the silver lining is immense. The pain can be almost unbearable BUT! - the sense of achievment when I manage to clean the bath, or have a shower! I've always been one for stopping and smelling the roses - now I can almost watch them unfold as I hobble past!

Soon I shall be having Physio and crutches and then a scan, and then, I imagine, surgery.

So I'll be back here soon with more news!

Where'd the month go?!

That's a reference to the wonderful Michael McIntyre, whose show I saw the other week. He did a whole set about how people can never believe it's October. ("It was just AUGUST! What happened to SEPTEMBER?!")

But it's true. I've let the time fly past this month with hardly a blog, because so much has happened that I've hardly drawn breath.

My daughter had a (thankfully very minor) accident in her car, I performed in the town Arts Festival, was busy at work...

WAS busy at work.

The Leg - more precisely, the Knee - had other ideas. It feels as though a rat with very blunt teeth is slowly gnawing through the bone. I've had a blood test for Rheumatoid Arthritis. I'm hoping it's not that, though I have been ignoring some mild symptoms for the last few years.

I've now had four weeks off work with another sick-note until November 9th. The pain, I explained to the doctor, was about an 18 on a scale of 1 - 10. (And this from a woman who had both her babies without any painkillers at all).

I'm hobbling round like a good'un, and am considering writing to ask if I could be the New Face of Stannah Stairlifts.

The doctor isn't quite sure what's wrong, but I'm beginning to accumulate fluid on the knee and the pain isn't easing at all, quite the reverse. He muttered something about sending me to Someone Who can Do Something.

SO - my challenge in all this is to see how it fits into my wonderful 50th year...

Not difficult, actually, given that life is never predictable and it's perfectly okay in my book to include some hard times in a wonderful year. So what if I LOOK 85 as I limp through the supermarket? I'm still alive and happy to be so!

I've had time to type up most of my poetry, which will make it easier to send to people and put online. I'm thinking about the future, and taking time to read. I'm making the most of this opportunity to rest and just Be. I can't do any housework which involves crouching or bending, as I can't guarantee being able to get back up (my daughter had to help me last time, and I was crying with pain before I managed to stand back up!)

But - there's always the memories of Michael McIntyre to see me through!
So - I'll just see what happens. It's different, that's for sure.

A quick brush with old age...

A few times in my life, I've had illnesses which gave me a glimpse into old age. When I had a middle ear problem many years ago, I wasn't able to walk alone, and needed a friendly arm to help me stand up straight and walk, not stagger, across a room. When I had a near-miss with ME, I held onto the trolley for dear life as I went round the supermarket, on one occasion falling asleep in an aisle...

And this last couple or weeks have given me a taste of those who struggle daily with arthritis. Shortly after I arrived home from Italy, my fingers - all of them - hurt so much that I could hardly write, let alone open bottles and turn taps. I wondered if it was RSI (not a good thing for an aspiring writer) and faced the thought of not being able to drive if it continued. Then my knees began to protest every time I asked them to carry me anywhere. I realised that it coincided with returning to work, and had a stern word with my body, assuring it that I would be in work with or without its cooperation.

And as suddenly as it started, it all vanished. My hands were fine, my knees seemed okay - until my left leg felt as though it had been stabbed. I rested it, put ice packs on it, and necked Ibuprofen. It improved. And then I tripped on a wire and wrenched my knee.

Reader, I expected to look down and see that my leg had come off.

It hadn't. And again it began to improve with a lot of care and none of my three-times-a-week visits to the gym.

Until last night I woke at 4, in pain. And remained in pain until it was time to get up for work. I drove to the doctor's and, bless him, he saw me immediately and has diagnosed an allergic reaction to mosquito bites, resulting in arthroscopic inflammation.

It will pass. Thank goodness. It may be a sign from the Universe that the Villa in Italy idea ought to be shelved, which is no great heartbreak.

It made me think. I had briefly begun to accept that such pain might be a part of ageing, that however much I embrace the thought of Fiftiness, my body will irrevocably complain at times.

And I'm pleased to say, it didn't dampen my enthusiasm for the next decade. Pain can be borne. All sorts of things can be assimilated into our lives and even perhaps learnt from. I've lived with emotional pain for years on end at various times. I have tinnitus, but forget about it so completely that I'm not sure I've ever bothered mentioning it to the doctor.

We can bear all sorts of things in life, if we choose to. That's not to say that we always accept difficult new things straight away, nor indeed that we ought to do so. It's important to acknowledge pain/sorrow/fear/sadness/grief etc, because (in my opinion) this diminishes their power over us.

It may be that one day I shall have to learn to live with pain. Well, what if that's the case? Many have done it before me. I am no more or less courageous than anybody else.

Meanwhile, I'm thankful that my brush with arthritis appears to be almost over. I have renewed sympathy for those who struggle with it daily. And a new perspective on what the future might - might - hold.

All the more reason to relish the present!