Dealing with loss

A couple of days ago, there was a comment left to one of my posts that I thought summed up for many the emotions of life with chronic illness entirely.

It seems like whether we lose memory of life or lose the abilities of our previous activities and people in our life the common denominator is, a profound sense of loss.

“A profound sense of loss” really is the overriding emotion that I have had from the start to today. Its intensity varies massively, as it is always accompanied by a myriad of other emotions, but when they die back, what is always left every time is “loss”.

When I first read the comment, I sat for a few minutes and desperately sat trying to find something that I could counter it with. I wanted to find something upbeat and genuinely positive that my health had given me because it has, but that’s my life, what I needed was something that I could say with confidence was universal. Try as I might, I couldn’t find it and I didn’t like that. But then I realised that that is the problem with life, when you detach the personal, what is left, means nothing, because all life, able-bodied or disabled, the personal is what makes it tick.

We are emotional creatures and it is our emotions that make life what it is to all of us. Just as writing a plain list of all our symptoms, really says nothing about what it is like to live with our health. If we each wrote an equally plain list of the elements that make up our daily lives, it says nothing, about what it’s like to live that way. So, yes, it’s easy to say that there is a “profound sense of loss”, but there is also so much more, we only feel the loss, when we look for it. I for one, wouldn’t say that “loss” is the overpowering emotion that I feel, when I look at my life now, compared to what my life was like even 20 years ago. Yes, I have lost much, but I have also gained so much as a person as well. Chronic illness is the most amazing journey anyone will ever go on, and I really hate that word “journey”.

I don’t even need to think about this one, as I know totally if the “me” from 20 years ago sat and read this blog from beginning to end, she would recognise herself as the same person at all. Of course, she would recognise the back history I have shared, but without the slightest doubt, the way I look at life and the world has been transformed by my health. It’s hard to pinpoint all the changes, but I know that I have become far more patient and understand about everything. Probably the oddest one, when I think about it, is the fact that I have far more enthusiasm and a greater positivity about life. As I said, on the surface, that just shouldn’t be the way it is, but it is. It is so back to front, but, when you are forced to look at life because you know you’re dying, well, for the first time you truly understand, the wonderful gift you have been given. The biggest change though actually happened long before the doctors stated my personal clock ticking, in fact, it happened not long after I became housebound.

I was still working but from home, and not having to go through all the preparation needed to leave the house, and undoing it all again, on my return, meant I had spare time. I had the time to actually sit and work on my past life and to forgive all the people who had ever hurt me, and most importantly, to forgive myself for the part I had played in it. I had never really had the time to do any of that, and I hadn’t been willing to make the time either. I have written about it before and I can confirm without a doubt that it is one of the best things I ever did. Once you are at peace with your past, you can start living yours, even if it is a housebound one. When they started my countdown with the diagnosis of COPD, well I was even more glad that I had taken that time, as it was one less thing to deal with, as when that clocks started, you have enough to think about without all that pain, getting in the way. Losing your health, losing your friends, losing your job and losing your freedom, is a huge amount of loss, but it’s also a huge amount of gain if you learn from it all. I can see with ease, that many wouldn’t see the point of learning, because you’re never going to have a new friendship or a new job, but if you learn, you grow as a person, you understand more about life.

I have always said that depression is something that we can avoid, but doing so takes a lot of strength and a determination to find the positive in every situation. It also means not dwelling on the huge amount of loss we have in our lives. That forgiveness I found for the major painful events in my life, is a forgiveness that I have now extended to all those losses. By putting myself in the shoes of my friends who left, I understand how it happens and how there is no intent of causing me pain. Understanding each event that brought us to this point in our lives, and by finding the good in every day, even the ones where your health has won, means that there is always good in our lives. Finding our smile, being able to look at that list of what we have lost and say, “I understand, but this is my life now, not then”, is what will get us through all that is still ahead of us.

I wasn’t born positive, but neither was I born negative. I have learned to be who I am and I still have a lot of learning to do. Giving up is when those losses have won.

 

Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 18/04/2014 – True control

Last night I found myself sat on the settee in real pain, even though I had only taken my meds about an hour and a half before, I was in a pain that I just wasn’t able to relieve. It started in my left side, about in line with my breast and it felt like someone had shoved a rather large and sharp knife into me and they were happily moving it back and forward between my ribs. Clearly it was a spasm, I am beginning to wonder if I will ever have peace again from my intercostal muscles, it is now over a year from the first time I felt it, but feeling it was something I was having ……

Forgotten but not gone, yet

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I was having problems pushing my wheelchair. My grip in my left hand has been weak ever since my arm died and returned, and using my chair, was taking tremendous effort. I ordered some tiny self-adhesive strips of clear rubberised type plastic, that have a serrated upper surface. Their true intention is to be stuck on to the arms of coathangers, so that when you hang a piece of clothing on them, they don’t slip off, but I was sure that they would work for my purpose. They arrived the other day and I set about attaching them, which was actually a lot easier than I expected. My dexterity got in the way of taking them off the sheets they arrived on, but not in attaching them. I sat on the settee feeling rather smug with my results, that was until I sat on my chair. Somehow, I had attached them to the wrong push wheel. They were under my right hand, not my left. I felt so stupid, but I am used to doing things like that, so I hung my head and pushed myself towards the kitchen. I hadn’t actually made it out of the living room when I stopped and did this sort of mental check, that they really were on the wrong side. I was stunned, I was finding moving my chair so much easier, yet they were truly there, under my good hand. It appears that my good hand isn’t actually as good as I thought. Somewhere along the line, I have lost the grip in both of them. Life is like that, well, at least, mine is. I have now added the strips to the other wheel and it is honestly like having a new chair.

Clearly, the strips I have attached, don’t have a strong enough adhesive that would hold them in place for outside use, but if they were attached with superglue, I’m sure they would do the job. It leaves me with a question, one that has been long with me, why don’t they make the inside of the push wheel with a soft cushioned rubber attached, so that anyone can grip it. Actually, I know the answer to that one, it would mean that a chair would cost more. The answer I know without a doubt that I would get from the NHS for my personal problems, is, that I should wear gloves. Sounds simple I know, but it isn’t. For a start, gloves make your hands sweat, they also would have to be taken on and off continually, and with my dexterity, would just be a constant annoyance. Decisions on design of aids for the disabled should be made by the users, not the makers or suppliers. In all honesty, would you put gloves on every time you wanted to go the loo or kitchen, then take them off once there, and put them on again to return? If you answered yes, well I know you wouldn’t. Even if they helped, without a doubt, they would sit unused, more than used. It’s human nature, we’re lazy, we want things done in a fashion that makes our lives easier, not harder.

It appears that my extremities are determined to desert me. The podiatrist has just been to see me this morning, and she was shocked that I hadn’t phoned her to come out sooner. Apparently, I had seven points where my nails were cutting deeply into my skin, I hadn’t felt a thing. My feet were deformed at birth, so all my toes other than my big toe are permanently curled, some worse than others. Having said that, four of the points were on my big toes. Either side of both nails were deeply embedded into the skin. This was without a doubt the longest that she had ever been in my house, it took ages for her to undo the damage. Totally honestly, I had felt nothing until she started slicing into my skin. I thought that the fact that I hadn’t been in pain, was a sign that Adam now drying my feet for me, and putting on some cream, was making a difference. It hadn’t occurred to me that the reason I had been pain-free, was actually because the feeling is almost totally gone. When I did feel her, was when she was pushing some tool that looked as though it belonged in a dentist surgery, deep into the skin on the side of one big toe. Despite her pointing out where the points were, I could only feel three of them, two of them, was mild recognition, the rest are dead.

When you find yourself immobile, the importance of our feet dwindles. They become just something that are attached to the bottom of our legs. Throughout my entire life, I have had an issue with ingrowing nails, or nails that bit their way into their neighbouring toes. So much so, that I didn’t really think anything of it, from childhood on, having painful feet was normal. As I aged, well the problems were compounded by the same desire that most women have, beautiful shoes, I freely admit, that I made them worse, but that is as normal as admitting that I’m human. I think it was somewhere around the day that I knew my stilettoes were being put away for the last time, that I stopped caring about my feet. I encased them in soft black suede knee high boots, both summer and winter, then I forgot them. The less I cared, the worse they got, but I could deal with them, then suddenly, I couldn’t. I couldn’t bend over, or bring my foot up to sit on my thigh, I could do nothing of any good for them. Adam tried, but when I called for the help of the podiatrist, he was told to stop trying to cut them. My feet are now dying, which brings up an array of issues, as if I can’t feel them, then I don’t know how injured they are. If an infection is sitting as deeply in my skin as the nails are, or if worse still, that infection is spreading. My feet are now not just useless but they are now a danger zone.

Her concerns didn’t stop at my feet, she went on to talk about my legs as well. Even she could see what I had spotted the other day when I was in the shower, I am overloaded with fluid. Not walking is causing it to pool which isn’t good. Luckily, I already have Frusemide in the house and by chance, I had taken a dose this morning. I can’t sit with my feet up any longer, it simply isn’t physically possible. The muscles are tightening and that stretched out in front of me position, is something I can feel the pain from. All I can do is wear elasticated socks, and keep taking the medicine. It isn’t quite a full five months since I brought my wheelchair out of the cupboard and gave up trying to walk. Five months and my lower half has given up the ghost. I can’t help wondering what they will be like, in another five.

 

Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 23/03/2014 – Where is my body?

I used to think that it would be impossible for me to live past the age of 20, people of that age seemed so old and so useless that how could I ever land up being like them, mind you I was only about 13 at the time. I know from talking to others over the years that almost everyone has that feeling, not just when they are 13, but on through their lives adjusting their maximum age upwards, as they pass their last horrific age. There seems to be something inborn in us that needs to put a limit to our lives for whatever reasons we have at the time, but mostly because it is our view of being old, of not having the verve and excitement for life that we believe ourselves to have, we just can’t see ourselves as anything less than we are at that moment. You would think…..

 

 

 

 

Joyus

I have for years now, taken enormous pleasure in simply going to bed. It was the one place where my body was cocooned, which meant that the twitches and mini spasms didn’t shudder through my entire body. Even the next stage up, on the scale of spasm, seem to be reduced in their pain and their worst effects were held at bay. I have been lucky for so many years, in the fact, that sleep always appeared quickly, and I slip into a world where pain doesn’t effect me in any way similar to the day. Bed and sleep, have became my joy in everyday life. From just reading those few lines, it’s clear that something has changed, something is now intruding into my rest. In the run up to Christmas, I have written about the bizarre increase and new areas that sensations have been running wild. Yesterday was the first day, they found their way into my rest, in a way, that was somewhat disturbing. It’s normal when I get into bed that I will have some part of me, tingling or filled with pins and needles. Since I have been using my wheelchair, it is my arms, where it was once was my legs. Their upset, was clearly due to the fact that the muscles had been recently used, no awards for working that one out. It is also normal, for my diaphragm to be producing pain, and the change from vertical to horizontal, normally, triggers slowly tightening intercostal muscles. All of which, I can slowly manage with relaxation and drift into sleep, or just rest for a while if that was my goal. Yesterday, both in the afternoon and at my bedtime, lying down, didn’t dull anything, it sent my entire body into bedlam.

I have felt similar things during the day, but never quite as complete, or as intense before. My entire body, and I do mean entire, as I couldn’t find any part of me that was silent, everywhere was filled with different sensations. You name it, other than lightening shots, there was some part of me that was feeling it. The majority was my old friend numbness, followed by tingling, pins and needles and pain. I was in bed for an hour during the day and never, once, managed to shut it all down. I relaxed as much as I could, I worked on taking each part, past relaxed and into what I call sleep, basically, so relaxed that it feels as though they are no longer there. My success rate, for the first time in ages, was poor. I could turn the intensity down, but I couldn’t find any silence and definitely no sleep. I have over the last few weeks, become used to this same problem when I am up and about, but then, there is, at least, distraction. Distraction is something I find effective, even if it’s only an effect on my conscious brain. When you are lying down, in total darkness provided by a mask and with earplugs in, there is no distraction, the whole point of my accessories. Distraction means lack of sleep, so they have to be removed. Also, the reason, that I work through my normally highly successful relaxation techniques, it removes the distraction of my body. It didn’t matter in the afternoon, I wasn’t looking for sleep, just rest. Yes, it meant my rest was more limited than usual, but I did still rest.

Night time was a totally different story. I don’t know how long it took me to find sleep, as when I woke at 4 am to go to the toilet, I couldn’t remember sleep, just my voice constantly saying “relax”. I should have woken with silence everywhere apart from the desperate message from my bladder, but even then, the silence wasn’t there. It was the exact same story when I returned to bed, and then when I woke once more at 8 am, still with only the memory of my voice in my head. It now over 24 hours, since I last remember not have wild messages from every part of me, bombarding my brain. There has been no peace, no time when I haven’t felt the desire for a silence, that just can’t be found. I am growing more and more tired, I know I must have slept, but the benefit of any of it has been lost. My plan, of getting more sleep, seems to be further away with every hour. Right now, I want nothing more than some deep refreshing sleep. There is little point in heading to bed, little point in lying down, when nothing changes, nothing goes away. I am pushing myself to stay awake right now, as I have hope that when the point of total exhaustion is reached, which isn’t far away, sleep will win.

At first, despite the annoyance factor, I found this sensation display, amusing and fascinating. I was beguiled by the range and constant changes all over my body, caught up in the desire to understand. That has worn off. All I want is, a short spell of peace, I’m not even greedy, it’s not like I’m asking for it forever, just when it’s time for sleep. Just to take a step backward, as I can deal with it when I’m awake, we can all deal with anything when we’re awake. The maddening thing is, that I am almost sure that it was the overactivity of the last couple of days, that brought it on. Now, it is the cause of overactivity, because it won’t let me rest. There are times when my health really makes me feel as though I am losing the plot, today is one of those days. I have always done whatever I can do to work with my health, but just occasionally, it makes it impossible to do so. When it takes over in this fashion, you just feel floored. I swear that somehow, every tingle, every spear that prods at me, and every area that feels dead, is draining my energy even further.

I know I will get some sleep. I will be so far past just tired by the time my afternoon nap comes around, that I will sleep, maddening sensations or not. Right now, I have things to do, I have so many things to do. Maybe, I won’t wait, just tidy through what has to be done, then go to bed. Blessed bed, my joy in this ever annoying world. Please don’t take that one thing away, at least not now.

 

Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 28/12/2013 – Painful answers

Yesterday brought Teressa and John here for the afternoon and loads of explanations to the past week. When the doorbell rang I had to unlock the storm-doors for them and as I was turning the key I spotted…..

 

 

 

Think what you want

All I want for next Christmas is a brain, well, I clearly didn’t get one for this Christmas. One simple task, that was all I had to do last night and guess what, it went totally wrong. Mind you, it did introduce me, to the totally new experience, of sitting on the settee, holding a crystal glass filled with frozen peas, sweetcorn and carrots. You guessed it, I burnt myself. All I had to do was take something out of the oven, add a topping and pop it back in and I couldn’t even get that right, despite making sure I was holding a thick towel in my hand. The mistake started 15 minutes earlier, I had placed a bowl holding some camembert into the oven, but as I placed it on the tray, I forgot to take out of it the handle needed to bring it out of the oven. No problem, I thought, as I returned armed with the towel. The first thing I did, was to put the now incredibly hot steel handle on the counter, so it would be cool when Adam came through, to take the cheese out when it was ready. I opened the top of the cheese, removed the covering rind, then sprinkled the topping on. Then I reached over, picked up the handle, so I could put it safely back in the oven. Spot the mistake, yes, I picked up a roasting hot steel handle with my bare hand. Why? I haven’t the slightest idea, I had the towel sitting on the open oven door, but I picked up and clenched a piece of red hot metal. Clearly, it isn’t the best thing to do to any piece of bare skin and I can actually still feel a couple of the points where it made contact. I did the right thing and ran it under the tap for a minute or so, and it felt OK. It wasn’t until about 20 minutes after I had actually eaten the cheese, that it really, started to hurt. I don’t know if my hand had just been dead, earlier, or if my senses were suddenly doing one of their hyper tricks, but it was incredibly painful. Hence, the glass filled with frozen vegetables. Trust me, if you burn the palm of your hand, it is the perfect tool, as it reaches every part of it at once and stays frozen longer than a plain glass.

Memory is one of the dangers of cooking for anyone with brain damage, but it’s now the reason that I don’t normally cook anything. Without a shadow of a doubt, I will either burn myself, or forget an ingredient, or even the fact that was cooking at all, until the smoke spreads throughout the house and finds me. Last night, was a typical show, of how dangerous a cooker really is, when it comes to me using it. I was happy to do it last night as Adam was in the house, what could go wrong, he was there to keep me right. I had forgotten that doesn’t stop my brain from finding some way, no matter how unlikely, to make it go wrong. Looking back, I honestly believe that my feelings were numbed at the time. I have this image in my head, that says there was a delayed reaction, almost, as though it were my eyes and delayed memory, clicking in the facts, rather than my feeling the pain. My poor hands have been beaten, dragged of doors, smashed into walls, burnt and generally mistreated to badly in the last few months, I’m a little surprised, they willingly still do anything for me at all. Yes, they object, the knuckle joints pop out of alignment whenever they choose, and I wake every day, with them so stiff and unable to flex, that getting dressed is a trial, but they still work. With all the sensations now screwed up, my treatment of them has just got worse, because I no longer even know I’m hurting them. I guess that I need to start accepting that cooking is one step too far, but I am really finding that one hard to accept.

I thought that if I stuck, to things that were in the oven, or that I had to sit over, as in the frying pan, well I was safe. The oven is far more forgiving on a mind that forgets anything has been put in it, well, at least for a while anyway. If you frying things, you can’t leave the room, not even for a minute, not even just to do something online. There has been the odd mild burn, a wrist caught on the lip of the pan, or the edge of the oven door, but mainly it’s been safe enough. I didn’t see this one coming, I didn’t even consider it. Even though I know without a doubt, that the lesson of this accident is, either plan better, or just don’t do it at all. I bet you, I will be cooking something again within the next few days. It is without a doubt, one of the hardest things to totally give up. I can go for months without doing it, then I have some bright idea, and I’m off again, wasting more food than I eat. It is part of the problem of being on my own all day long. Adam will do anything for me, if, I let him, but he has to work. It is one of those facts of life, that I think of eating something that needs cooking, when he isn’t around, If you think about it, I am never alone for longer than 4 hours at a time, I could wait, but I never do. The problem is, I used to be a great cook. Part of me, just can’t believe that I can’t do it any longer. It’s that part that taunts me, saying things like “A 5-year-old could do that!”. That’s part of the reason I don’t leave my PC that much, you’d be amazed what a 5-year-old, thinks it can do, that I can’t.

Being an adult, used to be fun, now it’s one big danger zone. Clearly, I’m not ready to give up on the cooker, maybe I should be, but I’m not. I guess it’s like everything else, I will eventually just decide that it’s that time and it will go. You can be lectured by OT’s and family forever, the truth is, we know when the cost is too high, and that’s the point when it will happen and not before. Just as I knew, the time for the wheelchair had arrived, or that I couldn’t climb ladders anymore, no one told me, well that’s a lie, loads of people told me, but I decided, because I’m not as stupid as I look. It still seems to be one of the things that all the medical profession hasn’t quite worked out, we might have brain damage, muscles that don’t work and no balance to talk of, but what brain we do have, is still ours.

 

Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 26/12/2013 – A strange Christmas

I have no idea what was wrong with my yesterday, long before I wrote my post, in fact within an hour of getting up, I was in tears. For no reason at all the tears just kept taking over, I had no control over…..

Hidden threat

I have lived now for more years than I care to remember with the symptoms of MS, with that said, just occasionally, stopping and questioning all that you know. I suspect on the list of symptoms, spasm have to be the best know one that all forms of MS produce. They vary from small and annoying, right the way through to so painful, you’d happily have the offending area, surgically removed. It was the latter that attacked me last night, which after spending the entire day, being annoyed by sensations that make you question your sanity, just didn’t feel fair. Adam was busy in the kitchen. He wasn’t cooking or any of the normal kitchen chores, but putting in yet more time, trying to complete his clear up of what I hope, will soon be his ex-dumping site. He had popped through just after 8 pm and shut the living room door as he was about to start work on his shredding pile, so I was isolated, but happily watching TV. I suppose, I had been sat still for coming up on three-quarters of an hour when, I felt my calf muscle starting to tighten. As I said, they can vary from mild to excruciating, so I quite honestly, didn’t pay any attention to it at all. When the tension started to increase, I did give it a bit of a rub, then a gentle massage, just to see if it would break. The massage quickly changed, into as much pressure as I could possibly apply, this was going to be a stonker.

The pain started in my lower calf and was spreading slowly upwards, as the pain increased. As it got close to the back of my knee, my foot joined in and went into a full arched spasm, basically, I was in agony from my toes to my knee and it wasn’t going anywhere. This is far from the first time this has happened, and I know there is no real way of changing it, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. I landed up sitting on the arm of the settee, twisting my leg in any direction that I could, in the hope of doing something that might help. I was about then, that something jumped into my head, it was a question I have considered many times before. “Is this just a spasm, or could it be a DVT?” I was reasonably sure that it wasn’t, but only because a while ago, I read up on the symptoms, but it is one of those things that does worry me. Not so much that it was a DVT, but that we are all in danger from dismissing something as a symptom of the conditions we live with, when in fact, it is something that could quite easily be deadly. I know that I have written before about finding myself wondering, if I might be having a heart attack, simply because of my intercostal and diaphragm spasms. I have always told myself, that if it were something worse, then surely I would know. After all, I know my conditions well, and I also know my body well, but do I know either well enough, to not make a serious mistake? I know I often think about the worse case scenarios, but I think it is one, that we all should take seriously.

When you look at the lifestyle we are forced into over time, it is totally clear that we could easily be in danger of either of those things. For myself, I am sedentary, not out of choice, but out of a total lack of ability to be anything else. The majority of my life is spent asleep, flat on my back, I can’t actually even roll over, I am a total flat motionless board. I don’t exercise at all, as it is just too much for me, and even dangerous, hence the wheelchair reentering my life. My days are mainly spent sitting more or less motionless at my PC. My diet, isn’t the best, but again, not out of choice, but because I can eat so little and if I move out from a limited range, my body reacts badly. Ask any doctor, I tick all the boxes for a range of other condition, I hope I never have. Last night, apart from the spasm in my foot, my leg was mimicking almost totally a DVT. As is normal, there was mild squidgy oedema in my foot, despite wearing tight travel socks, and my calf was totally solid, thanks to the spasm or was it swelling, hard to distinguish the difference. The only thing that was missing was a change of temperature, where the pain was at its worst. If there had been, well there would have been one other thing I would have then checked, actually, I would have had to ask Adam to, as I can’t see the back of my knee, to see if the skin had changed colour to red. It took over half an hour to die back, which, was mainly due to the much-needed Morphine booster. Even right now, I still have the shadow pain, that is always left behind from a spasm of that nature. My leg, though, is as it has been for weeks, mainly numb, even over the area that is still at times producing actual pain.

Without a doubt, it is another one of those things that we the chronically ill, need to take the time to learn about. We have all in the past, searched online for our symptoms, in the quest to workout, if it could be something other than the norm. Few of us, though, will have spent time learning about those sudden deadly conditions, that ours could mimic. Without a doubt, last night, if I hadn’t known about the heat that is produced by a DVT, I would have been asking Adam to call me an ambulance. Yes, I have had bad spasms before, too many to remember, but this one had an intentness, I’m not used to, that tiny bit of knowledge, stopped me from panicking. It doesn’t matter what we are talking about, but being able to stay calm, means you handle everything better. I was aware, and I knew what to keep checking, if I hadn’t had that knowledge, well, I would have been wasting the NHS, and not to mention, mine and Adam’s time. Clearly, last night made me focus on the most serious illness, but our health can with ease, cover up a lot of milder problems. Which is one of the reasons the loopy sensations I have had over the last few weeks are worrying me. It hasn’t been around long enough yet, but if it continues like this, I am going to have to set up a new routine of checking my body for ulcers, and skin breakdown. I already have three area’s that I have to keep checking and applying antiseptic cream to, as a precaution. There have been several occasions when they have broken down so badly, that I could smell them rotting. I hadn’t felt any pain or even discomfort, the very first thing I knew, was this horrid smell of what I now know was decaying skin.

The further our bodies get from normal, the longer we are unable to live anything close to a normal life, the more we need to learn and the more aware, we have to be of just what could go wrong, and what to do about it. I know there is a huge temptation, especially when you don’t feel your best, to just let life happen. I think most people would agree, that that is probably just what life should let us do, but it doesn’t work that way at all. I, for one, will be spending a little time, just checking online for anything that I might not have thought about, as forearmed, is forewarned, and hopefully also means a more peaceful and healthier future.

Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 24/12/2013 – Family emotions

I have had a phone call from Teressa this morning and just as I expected they won’t be here before 3pm. Adam thought she would arrive before lunchtime but I know what she is like when she gets together……