Taking time out from blogging is starting to open up my life again. There has been a list of things waiting to be done, that I just didn’t have the energy to do. The other day, I started work again on what now feels like a long ago dreamed up list of the things that I need to know to put my mind at rest, when it comes to the subject, of my future. The other week I had broached the subject with Adam, about getting in contact with Social Services in regard as to what help they can and can’t give us. I did write about it, but it took a second discussion and my finding both the email address and phone number, before Adam contact them, at the beginning of this last week. Several phone calls later, and we have managed to arrange for someone, to come here and talk to us. Someone will be coming out to see us, at the end of next week, which just proves what I suspected, nothing happens as quickly as we want. If we had waited until it was to us an emergency situation, we would have been struggling for weeks. The next on the list, well it was, of course, sorting out the issues with the grave that I thought I owned in Aberdeen. Somehow, when my son died, the documents for the actual plot, landed up in my ex-husband’s name. To my surprise and delight, when my daughter took the documents to him, he too was shocked and signed all the papers needed, for the name change to take place. The next step would be really simple for most, but not for me. I had to make a phone call. This time, I knew that it had to be something that I did, and not something I could hand over to Adam.
Despite all of the undeniable facts, that I am heading rapidly in a downwards direction, Adam is still finding doing anything that is connected to my death, extremely hard to deal with. I didn’t need to talk to him about that fact, so I knew that regardless how I hate the phone, I had to make this call. I have to admit, that it wasn’t just this dragging exhaustion, that was stopping me, but also the fact that I somehow had to talk to a stranger, and worse still, one I couldn’t see. Without a doubt, it had to be done on a good day, even then, I knew that I was going to have to work up to the point, when I could actually lift the receiver, and dial the number. I tried a couple of times last week but just couldn’t do it. I just knew they were days when things weren’t as good as they should be, so I waited. I know that might sound pathetic to many of you, but it really is something that is that difficult, for me to do. I eventually managed it on Wednesday afternoon. It lasted no more than five minutes, but I was so glad to hang up and take a breath equal to the one I took before I committed myself to action. They hadn’t mentioned it when I phoned to get the forms, a conversation that found me in tears within seconds of saying “Hello”, but still I wasn’t that surprised to discover there would be a charge of £34 to redo the documents. I actually made it right through the call without a single tear, just a lot of stuttering. I actually can’t remember when I last wrote a cheque, but fortunately, I had had the foresight to put my chequebook where I could and can still see it. Which proves I do have a brain occasionally.
Adam took all the paperwork with him when he went to work, so he could post it for me. That evening, when we were just sat watching TV, he turned around to me and said, “I was thinking when I was at the post office, how weird life is. Just 16 years ago, we were happily living in our first flat together, and there I was posting off documents that referred to your funeral. How has this happened? No one should be arranging their wife’s funeral while she is still very alive.” I thought for one horrible moment that he was unhappy about what I was doing, but it turned out that it wasn’t that close, it was more a case of no matter when it just wasn’t right. As I said to him, though, you just need to watch the TV adverts to see that these days, people are planning and paying for their own funeral all the time, it is becoming more the norm, just as it should be.
Quite rightly, both of us actually still find it a hard subject to talk about freely. We do when circumstance brings the subject up, but it’s not a regular topic of conversation. Like most things, though, the more we do, the easier it seems to get. but no one wants to think about the actual event and all the stuff that surrounds it, it still feels a little like talking about it, means that we want it to happen, which of course, we don’t. I know that when I sit here writing about it, it does read as though I am totally at ease with all of it. I am no more at ease with it, than you are about your own death, it’s just I am the type of person who wants to remove all the added stresses of my death, from Adam. I will never remove the pain he will feel, but if I can make the rest easier for him, then I will. Death is a fact, and it does have to be discussed and I clearly believe that things have to be organised and arranged in advance. If I hadn’t started looking into it a couple of months ago, we wouldn’t have had a single clue, that my son’s grave was in my ex’s name. If that hadn’t been discovered until after I died, it would have caused huge issues. Once I have the documents all correct and legal to use, the next step is to once again, contact the funeral directors, and get it all signed and sealed ready for the date it will be needed.
There is for me a strange comfort in getting all of this organised now. I’m not looking forward to the meeting with Social Services, but it has to be done. We both need to know what they can and can’t do for us, and even just getting the first contact in place, so when things get worse, they are there, no hassle, no assessments, just hopefully a phone call and life will go on. Once that one is done, the next and final one on my list is to contact the hospice here in Glasgow and talk to them about their possible role in my life. Thing are moving slowly, but they are now moving.
Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 29/05/2014 – Out of Control
Another drug is now being prescribed for MS in the UK and once again I have received several really thoughtful tweets from people to let me know about it. I actually had for once beaten them to it as someone mentioned it months ago, of course, I checked it out straight away, only to be once more disappointed as it is for the treatment of relapse-remitting MS and of no use to me at all. Sometimes it nice……