Strength

So, this week I finally had my surgery to my shoulder after my accident at the beginning of the year  on January 23rd. 

It has been a tough year for me. A very mixed year. I’ve been in a lot of pain and I’ve been very unhappy at not being able to dance at all.  

I’ve been loving working in year 1 and feeling more settled at my new school entering my second year there, but equally stressed about the effects of having to take so much time off with my injury and surgeries. 

I’ve recently begun to dance again, not Salsa, if I’m honest I’m not sure I’m ever going to be strong enough for that again which breaks my heart, but Sally is teaching Kizomba locally again and as it’s danced in hold, I’ve been able to do it as it doesn’t put much stress on my shoulder. It’s made me so happy to be back and I’ve been in less pain. 

But life is a rollercoaster...... and I don’t recal screaming to go faster!!

Now I’ve had my surgery I’m kind of back to square one, but hopefully with an end in sight. 

I am only the 7th person to have had this surgery which involves a human donor piece of tissue being grafted to what’s left of my tendon and joining it back to the bone ( my tendon had torn clean off the bone ) and whilst they were in there they found I had a second tear which they were also able to repair. The surgeons at Royal National Orthapaedic Hospital Stanmore are amazing and yet again I’ve found myself in the best place for the surgery I’ve needed. It is a postcode lottery out there. I am lucky in many ways. 

Today is day 4 and it’s been a wobbly sort of day. I’m feeling a bit tearful. I hate not being in control at the best of times but this is a real challenge. I am in a forward facing sling for 6 weeks, which are looming long ahead of me. 

Ian has just moved in a week ago and has basically become quite literally my “right hand” man!

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The shortest honeymoon period ever! 😭 

He’s having to do everything for me. I tell you there is nothing more humbling and undignified than having to have someone wash you because you can’t do it yourself.  He’s supposed to be my lover, not my Carer. I want him to look at me with desire in his eyes, not an eye roll because I’m such a nuisance. 😢

And I am very far from attractive, my hairs a mess, living in my PJs atm, no make up, feeling ugly, naked and vulnerable, helpless and hopeless and I’m struggling a bit with it all today. 

I’ll get over it. I really have no choice. 

Each day is a battle for minuscule successes. I am managing to feed myself and write shakily left handed. I managed a one handed weild of a duster earlier and one handedly emptied the dishwasher. I can make a cup of tea or coffee and managed to make a meal for myself this evening,  thanks to my Mum for the food parcels, I had home made salmon quiche with new potatoes, broccoli and peas.    I’ve been left home alone after a visit from my Betty boo and Jo, Luke’s at work and Ian has gone racing. 

I’m walking a very fine line between trying to not be too stubborn while being as independent albeit limitedly as I can. At the same time I have to accept my limitations and accept help gracefully. And I am grateful, so grateful that Ian is once again my rock. Even through my darkest days he makes me laugh despite the tears. He is the kindest, strongest man I’ve ever known, my ⚓️ and I love him more than he can ever know. If we can survive this start of our life living together I think we can survive almost anything life throws at us. I guess that’s what being partners is all about. The rough with the smooth, taking it in turns to be the strong one for the other, the shoulder to lean on. 

It’s going to be an interesting first Christmas together but I am looking forward to 2019 being a little smoother sailing ⛵️

It’s complicated!

Why do some people find it so hard to say I love you? Or I’m sorry?

Is it lack of experience I wonder. Something that was not present to be observed and learned from in their formative years?

Is it a form of self protection because it makes them feel not in control, feelings they don’t want to have to face or deal with because it makes them feel vulnerable?

Is it a fear of not being loved back, even when it is so obvious that they are, but it’s so overwhelming that they just daren't believe it, so they unconsciously sabotage it.....

or that by admitting that they may actually be in the wrong or they fucked up, they may have to examine themselves and their behaviour and make a choice to stick or twist?

Or maybe, they just aren’t .....

Human beings are complicated

Tick Tock

   

Tick Tock 

I’ve never really worn a watch. I’ve owned a few unremarkable ones but never quite got to grips with them. 

My partner Ian is obsessed with them. He collects them and is very knowledgable about them. 

He’s even got me wearing one on loan from him,  in fact it is the first watch he bought. A very retro Tag Heuer first generation F1 watch from approx 1987 which I think his watch man at C S Bedford Jewellers in Ruislip has his eye on as he always comments on it. Says it’s the coolest watch in the shop right now! It’s not particularly girly, or pretty, certainly no bling! but it was special to him and so it’s special to me.

We were there today for several reasons. Firstly because Ian managed to wash one of his very expensive watches in his jeans pocket! As he said “ suitable for diving to 300m but not so good on a spin cycle in Watford. “ Secondly because we were interested in getting my dear departed Dads old watch serviced as Seiko had said they couldn’t get the parts for it. But of course Ian knows a man that can. 

Now, with a little research from Ian we discovered that it was a watch with a story, as many of them have. Due to its rather striking colours it is known as a  ‘Pepsi ‘ but it’s correct tittle is The ‘Colonel 

Pogue’ seiko 6139. Ironicaly my Dads nickname at when he worked at Sky Sports was ‘The Colonel’

Most watches have Motor Racing or Nautical histories but there are also watches with connection to Aviation and in  this case Space Exploration, The watch is named, so the story goes after said Colonel Pogue who bought the watch in 1973 and took it aboard the Skylab mission 4 which was the final manned mission to the United States first space station. He took it aboard as part of his personal belongings and was never formally approved for mission. The NASA approved watch was a Speedmaster, but it was never the less to become the first chronograph watch ever taken into space. 

As soon as I set eyes on this watch it is like instant time travel. Dad wore little jewellery but this watch is iconic of him and I can’t see it without immediate flashbacks. 

So, I’m discovering that watches have both historical and emotional connections but one thing is for certain, even though it’s nice to look back, time keeps marching us forward, to the future, to make new stories. 

Rainy days

Funerals are never easy. They bring back memories of others we’ve lost and take us back to difficult memories.

The funeral of a child though is unimaginable sad. A life cut short in its prime.

Heartbreaking and the circumstances of this particular death harrowing.

Because Jay was 18yrs old and he was chased down by 4 lads on mopeds in an un provoked, pre planned attack whilst on his way out to a party with friends and stabbed multiple times. 

I didn’t know him that well but I taught his brothers and sister and have known the family for 12 years or so. He was just a couple of years younger than my own son.He used to come along with his mum to pick up his brother and stand awkwardly at the door while mum and I chatted. In later years, all grown up in his high school uniform he used to collect his sister.

The pain on his mums face when she followed his coffin into the rammed church was indescribable. No mother should have to bury their child, it’s the wrong order of things. 

A lot of the congregation were his friends, teenagers. A sea of orange faces, bare legs, dressed up to the nines for his send off as if they were going out clubbing one last time.

I was surrounded by rows of young half men sobbing like little boys. 

The pain was so palpable. These young kids trying to cope and come to terms with such an awful thing.

The weather may have been cold and bleak,  suiting the mood but service was beautiful and fitting. 
The coffin left to a drum n base and suddenly the lads in the back row were smiling and dancing, remembering good times.

The readings were lovely, his sister read beautifully, heartbreakingly and when she ended with “I love you like the big blue sky” everyone fell apart. She is 9yrs old.

The whole family has conducted themselves with such poise and dignity in the most truly awful circumstances.

Jason Isaacs was the 18th teenager in London to die of knife crime last year. 

What a sad statistic of our current society.

There has to be more done to educate kids about knife crime, it is out of control.

There seems to be a proportion of society that has no value for life, yet the service today showed just how very valued Jay’s life was.

Watching how his friends have come together to raise awareness over the last few weeks has been inspiring.
The need to do something, anything to keep his memory alive and change the future so other families won’t have to endure the same tradegy.
Keeping his candles lit at his shrine and coming together at the scene of his death,  The Facebook support page Justice for Jay - Jason Isaacs, The organised fundraisers, The 16 bar MC challenge to raise awareness of knife crime to get the message out there that it is not cool and needs to end brings hope, and after an event like this hope is all you have.

#droptheknifevaluelife

It's begining to look a lot like Christmas

I can't believe how fast this year has flown!

This time last year, I had just got together with Ian and I was a bit of a mess waiting for my year 6 cancer check results.
Poor Ian had a baptism of baby dragon fire as my emotions were all over the place, It's always a horrible time and I am on tenterhooks waiting up to 4-6 weeks for results.

I felt that all I'd been through, surgery after surgery, reconstruction, a divorce, starting again just me and the kids in a new home and all the challenges that came with that, finances and loneliness, life was finally turning a corner.  The kids were happy and settled and doing well at Uni and work, I'd found my passion again with my dancing, I was just about keeping my head above water and I'd met the love of my life!
It would just be the law of sod that the rug would get pulled out from under me now!!! Like in the Alanis Morrisette song "Ironic"

But it hasn't been.

1 year on and I have just opened the envelope on year 7s results (all clear) and it's been easier.
For the first time.
Maybe because I have been so busy, maybe because I am finally coming to terms with all that's happened to me and putting it behind me.

My physical recovery has been fine. Months off work after each of my numerous surgeries but the body heals and scars fade. The ones you can see anyway!
My mental recovery has taken a lot longer.....
I'll avoid the 'J' word but it has taken me years to really come to terms with it all. I have done a lot of soul searching, reflecting and gained a deeper personal understanding of myself, how I work, what I need.
Well as much as I can. Cancer is not something you ever "get over" it is always there in the back of your mind casting a shadow, that fear that I am a ticking time bomb but every year it lessens.
For a long time, the fear was crippling. Literally crippling.
I walked around like a deer in the headlights for years coping on the outside but crumbling underneath.
I was never offered any counselling and I really could have used it. My family and friends were my bicycle repair kit.
I think I suffered from undiagnosed depression which I have lifted myself out of but I am left with anxiety which still creeps up on me every now and again and it can be debilitating but I have a deeper understanding of my triggers now.

I'm sorry I haven't had much time for blogging this year, I've really missed my writing. It still helps me to make sense of things.

It has been another busy year of change, Beth moving out, me studying, a new job, building a new life with Ian and I am in a very happy and settled place now. My result letter was the icing on my Christmas cake!
I am looking forward to our second Christmas together,  presents all bought and wrapped, house decorated, plans made, happy days ahead to be shared and now I can relax and enjoy it.

I am acutely aware though that while I am having a good year I have friends who are having a horrible time and are in that dark place that I once inhabited. They are trying to cope with all the shit life can throw at you and it just keeps coming.
One who is dreading this Christmas and tired of fighting, painting that smile on every day while they are in turmoil inside.
It's hard to see the light at times like this and dig yourself out and I feel for her.
The light is there though and I know that she will find it in time and work through it all to happier times with the help of her friends and beautiful family. She just can't see it yet.

So to all my friends having a hard time, it's ok not to be ok and I'm sending you love and light.
Xx

I'm still here!

 

It's been over 5 months since I last blogged but I am still here even if you can't see me. 

I've just been in temporary hiding in my whirlwind of a world. 

Because my world got turned upside down a bit since November and a silly trip to IKEA with Ian. 

Who has an unintentional first date in IKEA for goodness sake?

Well would I ever do anything the conventional way?

Ian and I have been friends (F1) on Facebook for few years and had met a couple of times when he helped me out with electrical stuff but I didn't see this one coming....I don't think either of us did. 

It was a little stressful at the start due to circumstances that were a little out of our control, a few bumps in the road but we've fallen into something that feels very comfortable in just 15 weeks.

I can't believe it is only 15 weeks!!

I am busier than I've ever been trying to juggle my old life, my family and a new relationship but I also think I am the happiest I have ever been. 

He is the reason I smile at my phone like an idiot and giggle out loud.

He's my blue crayon and I've waited a very long time for him.

So here's briefly what I've been up to:

Christmas and New Year was lovely but passed in a blur. 

I had my first ever real Valentines date at the grand age of 47yrs old. 

Beth got her dream West End job and we helped her move out to East London into her first home away from my nest. 

I've been studying since Xmas and after 30 years and 1 failed attempt, I managed to pass my Level 2 Maths exam.

Busy times ahead:

I'm still dancing and am looking forward to a Salsa weekend away in Majorca in May and a Kizomba workshop coming up soon. 

Ian and I have a holiday booked for the Summer and lots of other fun plans booked in between.

And challenges:

Studying for my HLTA

At some point I am going to have to drive to his flat in Watford (eeeeek)

Trying to write my blog regularly again.

And I need to try harder to have some proper down time and look after myself better as I know I'm in danger of burnout if I don't.

Sorry #Crazygang I have missed so many #Wordonthestreet posts, weekends have been busy and I will try my best to keep up with the new F1 season and admin. 

Who knows what the future has in store.....I'm just going to enjoy each step as it happens.

So if you don't see me around as much as you did, I'm still here, smiling at my phone like a love struck teenager! 

Green fingers

 

It is a truth universally acknowledged ...... to quote Jane Austin, that my generally well manicured fingers are anything but green!

My friends will attest that my plant killing powers are legendary. 

Garden or house makes no difference.

I have always had a garden until 3 years ago when I moved into my town house and for the most part enjoyed it. 

I am creative, I can plan out, visualise, colour scheme and shape, I have a good knowledge of plants, and I love a good garden centre but keeping them alive? Not so much. 

I used to do all the planning and planting in our herbaceous borders but after my knee operation left me unable to kneel I found it difficult and I retired to my decking where I took a more managerial role, delegating to my Mum and then Mother in Law.

My problem is remembering to tend them after so lovingly planting them. I'm OCD but ADD which means my attention to detail is second to none but my attention span is rubbish.

It is something my sister is good at and I am not. She is most attentive to her herb and tomato container garden in a way that brings shame on me. 

Nurturing children and giving them strong roots is clearly my forte, same principles I suppose, love, attention, good food and water but I lack the ability to transfer those principles to plants. 

I start off with the best of intentions but I am a shocker for forgetting to water them then panicking and over watering them.

It is feast or famine in my house, survival of the hardiest! 

For example, Mum bought Jo and I a succulent each for Easter which we both put in our respective bathrooms. Mine lasted a few weeks until it turned to pulp. 

My sister was laughing at me and when I was at hers the following weekend I admired her still as good as the day she got it plant perched nicely by her sink.  The next day she rang me and announced that me just being in the same room as it had given hers the kiss of death just 24 hrs later......now that is quite a skill.

Somewhere up there God is shaking his head and thanking himself that I don't have a garden anymore to continue to bi annually sacrifice foliage and flower.

Saying that I really do miss the pleasure of sitting in a garden, reading a book, sipping a cocktail, BBQs and nighttime stargazing. 

*Friends with gardens note, please invite me to come round and share yours more, I promise not to touch anything.

So, I am the owner of a one pot container garden by my front door. 

My last offering, a sunflower has bitten the dust, not I might add by my own hand this time but by a family of snails that moved in and found it most delectable.

I said to my sister this morning that I was thinking about getting a plastic plant to put in it but she told me "that's just defeatist!" and so off I trundled to Homebase and then round to Mums to plant it up.

It looks lovely don't you think? 

How long it will stay looking lovely is anyone's guess.