All mothers worry

Teressa phoned me last night. My first thoughts were clearly that she had spoken to her father, but to do that, I was sure that she would have gone to see him. After all, what I want her to talk to him about, isn’t exactly the sort of conversation you have over the phone. To do so would open up the possibility, that between speaking and actually having the forms in front of him to sign the deeds over, that he might just change his mind. No that is a conversation that needs to be had face to face. She was calling for two reasons, one to annoy me, and the other to surprise me. Firstly, yesterday was my birthday, I think birthdays are the most stupid thing that humans ever created. The whole idea, that we celebrate a person once a year, just doesn’t sit right with me. We should celebrate those we love all the time. If we see something we think they would like as a gift, then give it to them, whatever the date is. Why do it, just once a year? It has taken me years to get this through to Adam and everyone else, and everyone, other than my daughter, does just as I ask, ignore, 100% my birthday. The first words out of her mouth were “Happy Birthday Mum.” On the good side, she has stopped wasting money on cards.

The second thing she said was that she is coming up to Glasgow next week to spend a couple of days with me. She couldn’t say exactly how many days, as, her boss hasn’t confirmed the number yet, it could be two or three. She is about to leave Sega, who she has worked for, for years, firstly in San Fransisco and then in London, for a dream job with Microsoft. She will still be based here in the UK, but will be jetting all over Europe in charge of teams in several different countries. This short break, will probably, be her only opportunity to visit for a while, as her main holiday this year is to be spent in Ohio, visiting her husband’s family. Somewhere they were supposed to be last December, but all fell through, thanks to a mistake in timings, John made with applying for his new residence visa. Right now, it looks as though if she didn’t come here next week, it might well be next Christmas, if not longer, before I could even see her again. So I have something to look forward to.

Since her father snuck her out of the country when she was just 12, to live in New Zealand, and I eventually tracked them down, we have had a long distance relationship. We did have one glorious period of 6 months together when she flew home, to spent six months with me when Adam and I got married, before making the desition for work reasons, as there was none in the UK, to return┬áto New Zealand. When she did get back, she phoned me straight away, her dad had returned to the UK in her absence and had said nothing. In the past 16 years, she has been married twice and lived on three different continents and has had a wonderful life. Everyone says that we are like two peas out of the same pod. We look alike, share the same sense of humor and frequently our words could have come from either mouth. We love the same TV programs and totally share our love of technology, especially PC’s. Our one big difference is this love of travel. I haven’t left the UK since I was 12, and I haven’t even left Scotland, for more than two days, in the last 20 years. I have never even owned a passport. I suppose her father had to have something to do with her, although apart from that, it’s hard to see what.

I guess it’s only natural, that as a mother, no matter what the medical world says, that I fear that she too will become ill at some point. It doesn’t matter how often they say that MS isn’t hereditary, I have this constant niggle in the back of my head. I probably wouldn’t be a mother if I didn’t. My family are plagued with autoimmune conditions. From Asthma that requires oxygen on hand 24/7, rheumatoid arthritis, and dozens of other minor conditions, plus a condition I have never been able to remember the name of, that my brother has. Apparently, there are only three people in Scotland with it. It attacks the kidneys and causes his lower body to become totally solid, his legs literary turn into wood, and yes, it is painful. If he is lucky he is just bedbound by fatigue, at other times he has is hospital bound, when it was at it’s worst. Yet again there is nothing they can do. Right now, he is in remission, but there isn’t one of us, who doesn’t have something. My grandmother died from some mysterious illness in the 1960’s, from the little I know, it sounds as though her life wasn’t dissimilar to mine. So yes, I worry about my daughter. So far, the only thing I know she has,┬ájust like me, she has what they now call HMS, I always knew it as double jointed.

I know that I am not a doctor, but when I look at my family and hear stories from others, about their’s, I can’t help but wonder if there is something in our genes, that open up the possibility, of the entire spectrum of autoimmune conditions. If you like, that we have a rogue gene that forms the firing pin, when other factors in our lives match up, they form the bullet. It is those other factors, that determine which particular form, we each develop. So no, none of the conditions aren’t hereditary, just the weakness that makes them possible. Coincidence is something that might explain a couple of people in the same family, but entire families, I believe, is stretching it too far. I guess though, like all parents, all I can do is sit back and just hope.


Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 09/02/2014 – It’s written

It is now a habit for me and one I recommend everyone ill or not also fits into their day, time to just listen to your body. I started it as when this whole mess of illness began things came and went, often they were difficult……