The reality of life at the moment

I started writing on the evening to Tuesday July 7th and posting on the evening of Wednesday July 8th

​Well well, I’m back again. I’m sitting here on an annoying synthetic velvet sofa in the heat, typing on an iPhone with 6% battery while watching Normal People for the 10 millionth time. As for the sofa, my next one will be linen ideally or maybe cotton or wool. It won’t be sprayed with scotch guard or any toxins. I won’t care if it gets dirty.

Where the fuck have I been? Be warned, I’m in a super sweary mood. Every second word of this entry could be fuck. 

June was pretty good, I’m staying in my lane even though I fucking hate that stupid saying. I’ve been uber careful with my boundaries, mindful if I’ve giving too much and how I feel. When I’m with people, does the atmosphere and feeling feel reciprocal? This actually means I haven’t seen alot of friends. Over my growth in the last few months, I’ve outgrown the majority of ‘my people’. I know this sounds weird and odd. Also thank fuck they don’t read this blog!

Now I still love them, I’m grateful for them, I care for them, I’ll be there for them etc. it’s just that they don’t actually fill my cup anymore, some interactions even take from my cup. This is not fault of theres, I’m the one that’s changed. It’s like the typical break up line when one person, (normally the guy) says, it’s not you. It’s me. Well people, this time it’s me. 

In late May I had the surgery on my nose. It went well, it just took it out for me. This moved into June. But by the end of June I pretty much bounced back. 

For Glastonbury weekend (always the last weekend of June) I stayed in a Shepherds Hut in Wiltshire with one of my oldest UK friends. (I haven’t outgrown her. There are some key things in life. Big things that we both get / understand. We often never even talk about it. We just get it. We get each other). Part of the trip included visiting Stonehenge. It was fun and I found out that there are 4 days a year when you can touch the actual stones. I’m not totally sure why I want to touch the stones but I do! So i will. You can find me amongst a crowd on the autumn equinox at the stones. As I’m writing this I’m know that I drawn to old things, sacred traditions, old buildings, churches, ruins, Forrest, castles and the rest. 

A few hours later, free style typing with one hand while trying to not fall on the tube to work. Seriously not a fan of working in a concrete jungle. Due the heat, all the window blind shutters are closed. If I ruled the world I would make it illegal to withhold sun light from humans in the daytime. All this for air conditioning.

Let me see if I can get back on track.

I’ll probably dip in and out of 5 recent days when I was in Brighton. I seriously had the best days full of easy, and flow. 

This next part will flow. I promise. I saw lots of old friends. One of whom is a very tall faithful reader. We caught up briefly and he asked how I was. I think I gave him the option of how things really are vs the easy answer of good. Actually I probably didn’t even do that. I got straight to it. I do remember using the word bullshit a lot. Anyhow, this is something along the lines of what I said. 

I’m going great, wonderful and fabulous actually. There are still loads of things I’m working on but all in all, life is good. 

The family on the other hand is a bit of shit show. Also they are far, and they are very much indoctrinated in their ideology, mentality, thoughts etc. Trust me folks, they have no interest in my 2 cents and I finally have enough insight to not waste my time. (Hallelujah, Amen, let’s thank the Lord of the  Universe 😉)

My dad started his radiation cancer treatment this week. Last week my sister (who is not coping with her own plate) went to his medical appointment. He has kidney disease, prostate cancer, vascular dementia, and Alzheimer’s disease. The doctor said that my sister was needed at the appointment because the previous appointment in April was shit show. Oops! I forgot something. He also had a stroke in the last 40 years that none of us are aware of. This includes him, he can’t remember and the scans and tests can’t actually say exactly when. 

Long time readers know there is so much sadness and pain in my family. I am acutely aware of how tragic this is. This man, my dad, has done everything for us. His life has been hard. The relationship with his 3 kids is very fragmented, it’s the same as with his own siblings. He’s been divorced for donkeys years. He’s stubborn, fragile and set in his ways. He so easily could have had a stoke and nobody would have even noticed. He’s pretty much lived alone since I was 22 when I left his house. (Older posts will explain that I lived with him after my mom kicked me out at 16 - oh! More fun times). Back to my dad. My sister said last week, he needed help spelling my sister’s name. 5 letters. 

My brother who’s not even 40 has a heart arrhythmia. He was under investigation pre May cruise, and he was in severe pain in the cruise. He chose to not disclose this to any of us and told my mom only once he was back in Canada. He has almost not body fat, he goes to the gym, rock climbs, skates, runs etc. He has the strictest diet too. Like most things, I don’t know what his plans are. I just wish him well. 

My mom Is busy volunteering and planning her trips. She’s emptied her pockets and filled her diary. This year she will have done, 2 cruises and visited, India twice, Australia and the UK. Let’s not forget she was almost dying in January. I had a chat with her sister over the weekend. We are happy that she is happy, we just don’t get it. I met with one of my mom’s very close friends too this weekend. She thinks that maybe my mom’s near death experience had brought on all this travel. who knows?

And then we get to my sister. When I was doing the recap with the friend, I just said that she has been off of work with sever depression since April and it’s not good. On Monday night when I’m heading home after 5 fun filled days… I spoke to my mom. (Note to self - don’t do that again. Finish 5 fun days. Go to sleep with good memories. Deal with real life the next day). Anyhow, my mom said that within the last 2 days she had called the Canadian equivalent to the UK Samaritans. She called the suicide hotline. 

Let’s look at this rationally, calling the helpline is normally a cry for help. I think this is her case. It is also often the last call before someone makes a life ending decision. 

Diversion: I know a lot about suicide, there was my mother attempt, and then my 3 friends who I have spoken about on here. I also at one point wanted to be a Samaritans volunteer. I met with them on an open day. It’s such a noble calling but it dawned on me, it won’t bring Tim, Paul and Mark back. 

So…. On the call my mom said, I’m just for her (my sister) call so say “Bring me”. She is insinuating the Mental Health A&E / ER. The thing is, it doesn’t always work like that. 5 to 6 people die per hour in North America and Europe by taking their own life. I’m sorry to bring the tone sooo low but I think my mom is only looking at this from one side. 

She (my mom) then went on to say that social services are filled to capacity and the waitlist for intense treatment is years. When I asked about paying privately it was 10k and that was immediately discarded. I’m just miffed. I was reminded once more that I shouldn’t call my sister and that she can’t “handle it”.

She (sister) did call me a few weeks when she was having an anxiety panic attack. In 17 minutes I was able to make her feel better, by reminding her that she’s the one that has the power. She can leave my parents to fend for themselves. If you can’t take care of yourself it’s very difficult taking care of others. 

The next day (yesterday) I spoke with my brother to get the low down. He lectured me but I’ll get to that. The treatment center was researched by my sister who then told my mom. My mom then told my brother. No info about the name, details etc was disclosed. Bro then explained that the night before my sister spoke to her therapist online and he gave her suggestions. When I asked my brother what the suggestions were, he said he wasn’t going to tell me. So that it’s, my fucked up family continue to play games of sharing only some things with some people, some of the time. He then lectured me on my tone, his masters degree in marketing makes him an expert. Keep in mind, I wasn’t talking to my sister. I was just asking what’s going on. 

So to maintain the goodness in my life, I have to spend my units wisely. (Tyler Durden in Fight Club explains energy as units - great film. Go watch it).

My family are so tangled in their weave of trauma bonds that the only thing I can do is to pray for them and live my best life. 

If my sister called me, so I take the call? I really can’t handle having the last call with her before she’s gone forever. 

I spoke to Mark 3 days before he died, I also spoke to him 2 weeks before when I asked him if he was going to do it. It Marks case, the meds were increased which is a major contributing factor. 

Oh! And as I was waking into the wood land park where I writing ✍️ now (work day is over). I saw a robin. I see Robin’s all the time. That’s always Mark. (Side note: Tara Swart’s book The Signs is very good)

Do I message my family text group and let my sister know that I’m not calling because I’ve been told not to. If I did that, does that make it about me. Maybe 🤔 

Let’s talk about other things. Over the last few days I started drinking again. I don’t drink for a year. I’ve never had an alcohol problem and if I’ve ever had a bad day, I purposely won’t drink. I’ll also almost never drink alone. I’ve made sooo many rules but that’s also what happens when you have had 3 family members die of alcoholism. 

Drinking is fun when you’re with good people. Ice is good too! Did you know that I only have ice with alcohol, no other drink. 

At work today I left the concrete jungle for lunch. Sadly I had 2 very very very creepy brown men stare at me. I don’t even know how to describe it. It was not flirting, it was creepy and threatening. Thank God it was day light and there were lots of people around. No woman should have to justify her clothing but I will. I was wearing a sleeveless dress that goes to my knees and the neck line was a V neck but high. I was blessed with a rack so wearing any bra means I’ll have cleavage. I was soo upset. I ranted to one of you fabulous readers on a voice message and spoke to 2 colleges in the office. 1 was a a girl who’s my shade and told her to be vigilant, the other was just a manager to vent. He was very sorry for me, he could emphasise but has no idea what it feels like. 

Think I’ll press send on this one and start writing more about last weekend. 

Fun and games, with an A&E visit

Well, hi there, 

Welcome to another edition of the adventures of moi.

For dramatic flair, this entry is being written from the A&E. Sunday night 19:47

It’s been a month! Way more feelings and emotions than this girl is used to. 

A little over 2 weeks ago, I got some new from a friend re the lack of an invitation. This should not and is not a big deal, I was shocked and saddened. I cried for 2 days and internally reevaluated every friendship and interaction I have had. This is very overboard I know. 

Thank god I have a coach. She is a godsend and it’s a privilege that I get to unpick things with her. Pretty much, folks, everything is linked to childhood wounds. Until they are resolved, they show up in many ways. I’ll leave this story here, but all you need to know is I cried A LOT and was VERY sad.

Days later, my mom was in a bad way with her health and in the hospital. She had a few days in the A&E, then home for a day before going in for a procedure and back home. Then she rushed back to the A&E after things got dramatic. This then led to a couple of days in the intensive care unit (ICU). If you’re in the ICU, things aren’t great but I’m mindful of respecting her privacy. She was then discharged to recover and may need an organ removed in the future. 

8 days ago, I received a frantic call from her saying that she wanted to tell me that she loves me and she has this fear of dying. She thought she would die. As an observer, clearly the recent experience she had was very traumatic and triggered. So many people have genuine trauma from hospital experiences. 

Now back to me. Before the call, I was going about my merry business. I saw a fantastic film (which I do want to blog about), The Voice of Hind Rajab, followed by a rare wagyu steak at Flat Iron. 

After the phone call, I ran to the loo. I’ll save the details, just knowing that I ran should explain. A few days later, more issues etc. I eventually had to call in sick at work. We are now on day 8. When it comes to my health, the majority of the time, rest is best. And rest genuinely has worked a a treat. I’m good at resting, I’ve almost mastered it. While resting, I’m hoping my body is healing etc, however, I have had really, really bad cramping throughout. 

This experience so far has been a kick up the backside when it comes to my diet. I need to make big changes to get healthy and to loose this weight. For the last few days, I’ve made healthy wise decisions. I was hoping that my body would be happy with that, and all will be well. 

Unfortunately, again I was back in the painful situation and enough is enough. I know when “the rest” is not working. It’s a Sunday, and not a great day to be unwell but what can you do. At 4pm I knew it was time to seek medical attention; the rest, clean eating wasn’t doing the trick. Instead of fucking getting up and making tracks, I called 111.

I called 111 because I’m pretty sure that I need antibiotics. I was hoping they could prescribe me something maybe. 

There is a part of the brain that thinks I’m not worthy and I don’t want to waste the resources of the National Health Service. I then compare my situation to more severe cases. 

The 111 call lasted 21 minutes, during which they sent me to a pharmacy where I had to go through all the details again, only to be told that they can’t give me antibiotics and I need to go to the A&E. 

So here I am. Now let’s talk about the more important matter/leaning/understanding that came up in my recent coaching session. 

It’s all about parenting the inner child and listening to and attending to those needs. I need to listen to myself more and stop seeking advice and approval from others. I’m still shit at this.

I fucking faffed around for ages with guilt and seeking approval from others. The 2 people I spoke to thought I should go to sleep and wait a few hours for Monday morning to roll around, when I can see my GP. They aren’t wrong, however, by be being here, I’m choosing myself! I’m taking care of me, I’m parenting me.

I’m also grateful as fuck that I live in a country that provides this service to me free of charge. This is where some of my tax-paying money goes. 

Part 2 - written the next day. 

At 23:00, I was seen by a wonderful Emergency Department doctor. She diagnosed me with gastroenteritis. My test results also showed something was up. 

Things take time in a hospital, and I only left 1:30am. During that time, man was I reflecting and counting my blessings. There were many people in pain, distress and fear. I was in a separate room with 6 chairs and an open door. This is where I had an IV drip 💧 of Sodium Lactate. I was also watered and fed. I felt like such a numpty when the beautiful Filipino nurse asked me what I would like to drink. I replied with, what do you have?. She looked at me and said, one 2 things. Tea or coffee. I said tea please and she asked how I would like it. I cheated and had a tiny bit of sugar. She also brought me a chicken sandwich and said they had ham but she thought that I don’t eat ham. (I tell you people, these unconscious bias that we hold runs deep. Just because of my colour, it doesn’t mean I’m Muslim. Do you even know how much I missed bacon 🥓 during my 13 years of veganism). Anyhow, I’m too cool to hold this unconscious bias against this lady who is trying to feed me, help me, heal me. I just replied with, I eat ham too but chicken is good. 👍 I’ll stick to this. 

It was quite a yummy sandwich 🥪 in all honesty. Shame about the ingredients. I’ll post this here but I would love to talk more on that also. 

The drip was taking ages, so eventually, she adjusted the stream, and before you know it, I was done. After that, I attempted to produce a sample but it wasn’t to be. Plan B was to bring it to my local GP once I had the goods. 

My doctor liked me. I know, I can tell, and this does happen to me a lot. The key folks is to be respectful and carry yourself with gratitude and compassion. 

A few hours earlier, I had asked her for a printout of my blood test results. She explained that they weren’t allowed to, but she would. Once more, she said they shouldn’t. Other than saying thank you, I totally left that there. While I had my drip in, she hand-delivered it to me. 

Upon discharge, a nurse or even a healthcare assistant would have removed my IV cannula, but not for me. She came back and removed it herself in the room that I was in. As she was showing me out, we passed the nursing desk, and another nurse asked her if she could remove my cannula. Love how they are checking for the well-being of the patient. Teamwork makes the dream work. 

As I’m typing 💬 these words, I’m thinking 🤔…: man I should be writing to PALS. In my 6000 roles and careers, I actually worked for this NHS trust in the PALS team. PALS stands for patient advice and liaison service. Really, it’s the department that gets the letters of things that have gone very, very wrong. Lawsuits and the rest. 

How freaking nice would it be for the team to get a thumbs 👍 up message? My letter would cover the 6 people I interacted with.

Tuesday update: I'm feeling better

My legs woke me

Have you ever woken up because your hand or arm is numb. Often because you or someone next to you is sleeping on it, and its feels a little dead. That’s happened to me a bunch of times in my life, a simple fix, reposition and go back to bed.

I’ve now been up since 4am with throbbing aching legs. I have a feeling its going to be the final part of Abby Cadabby. I reckon once my legs stop hurting I’ll be better. At least that’s the plan. I took an anti inflammatory and it’s working now. Now I’m just awake with frustration. I wish I could change the leg pain to arm pain or some other body part, but no my legs! I love my legs, I always have. I love them for many, many reasons.

If I were a poet I would write a poem called Ode to my legs. Seeing I’m not I’ll just tell you why I’m a fan of the ol’pins. This is no specific order. They have been good to me, I love walking more than anything and well they are the essential tool, they look good in dresses, shorts, skirts, you get the drift.

Also when I think about the way they feel right now it makes me sad and brings me back to the Camino days.

Currently if I go out and walk more than I should I really suffer the next day, the difficult thing is measuring how much is too much and then balancing that with getting fresh air. Fresh air is the biggest reason I go out. Earlier today, I walked home from the post office and then went to the grocery store. Nothing spectacular, but it must have been too much.

As mentioned in this blog many times before, my last day of the Camino I walked a marathon. 26 miles about 42km. My legs were steel, they were sooooo strong! I so look forward to the day when I’m back on the Camino walking again.

What else, I’m going home in 6 sleeps! Lots of mixed feelings. As mentioned also in this blog I’ve never been home sick confused like I have this year after living away for almost 14 years. When I get back to MTL I would have loved to rediscover the city. I know that this won’t be possible this time, but maybe another time.

I’m going home to rest and get better. I have a plan too! I’m going to sit on my dads couch, drink tea, and watch all of The Wonder Years. I am so excited about this box set being released. Either the family will get it for me for xmas or I’ll get it for me. The other plan is to walk to the St. Lawrence River daily. My dad’s house is 2 blocks away from the river and if you were to add an extra story to our house you could even see the river from where we live. (I know I sound like I still live there) Normally a river would be frozen in December but it’s the rapids, ever flowing, moving and constant. (Providing we as the earths inhabitants’ take better care of our environment)