ONE NIGHT IN HOSPITAL and now am home again.I liked it in there and would have stayed – just lying there doing nothing. But they sent me home.It is wet and cold and I am so tired.Aren and Roch brought me dinner. J and P brought me home. I visited with Kaybee and Co. Now I am on Facetime with Eden.I SHALL RESEARCH TONIGHT and if they are opioids – they go in the bin. That won’t be as easy as usual because I am at the limits of the pain I can handle.I am taking some tablets which Dr C said are non narcotic and not paracetamol but looking at the Internet it calls them opioid. They are for the pain.I don’t know anything today. More needles and bloods and canulas.And a whole lot of good people.I am quite happy tonight. Bereft of thought but happy enough.
Today. I picked up the Kid from School. I didn’t think that day would come. Amazing. eh ? Drove to Bello.I went up early because I didn’t want to blow it and I didn’t. I love that Kid.My ankles are thin this week. That means the fluid is down. It also means i can move around. Keep swimming Lynne and resting as much as you need. She was pleased to see me and i was pleased to see her.Now i am Facetiming with the big girls. Just think – 4 months ago i couldn’t walk or talk. This, then, is one sweet day.
Back in 2015, I hadn’t learned what I have now about SEPSIS – including the Medical profession’s lack of attention to the symptoms.
The Doc came and went and left me with some antibiotics. A young doc and a young driver. He said the lump on my leg is something to do with a vein and needs looking at and that I have a wheeze. And infection. Bugger it all – says I.This is sure a Battle which I am not winning. Therefore CEASE BATTLING. Cease absolutely. Surrender to each day. Etcetera. Etcetera. I have kookaburras around and deep darkness.UNTHINKABLY GOOD THINGS CAN HAPPEN EVEN LATE IN THE GAME.under tuscan skies or whatever
He went to bed before me that night. I wanted to stay up and I was getting a new camera the next morning and I was excited. He had a big day planned for the Saturday and he went to bed. By the time I woke up he had gone running – but he didn’t come back. He just didn’t come back.I still can’t breathe when I think of it. I still can’t breathe when I think about seeing the Police Car come up the drive and hoping that may be he had just been hurt. I can still hear Kate scream. A terrible wild howl through the Phone. And the drive up the Valery Road in the police car and then there he was beside the road in the dirt under a sheet with a bang on his head. And I knew he was gone. Knew it was done and over. Everything done and over.AND THE LAST WORDS I EVER HEARD HIM SPEAK TO ME WERE ON THE FRIDAY NIGHT AS HE WENT TO BED“GOOD NIGHT , MY BEAUTIFUL LADY “
And it makes me think what I should have realised before hearing this today: that he appeared in my life as some kind of sage, or wizard – a Gandalf or Merlin – grey-bearded, wise to the world, stepping out from the edge of a grey forest at a crossroads, and, smiling, nudging me gently towards my true way.
He ran almost every morning. Early and a long way. He did it in each place we lived and apparently had done so for many years. This is the road on which he died. Valery Road. He had no ID on him. He loved that after running in cities and towns that required keys and ID.
It meant that there was no evidence of where he lived or his name and the police had to go neighbour to neighbour till they found someone who could tell them where we lived. THEY said they all knew him as the Happy Runner.
He’s on my mind tonight because there is a loud party 2 doors down with a live band. That world is gone to me now but the memories are triggered by the Gig.
UP HERE IN THE FOREST – THAT’S WHERE HE DIED. THAT’S WHERE HIS SPIRIT LIVES NOW.
I do believe I am growing physically stronger and less in need of may hours sleeping. Excellent in its own way but leaving me with even more empty spaces which I don’t know how to fill and more aware of responsibilities which I don’t quite know how to meet as yet.
I have decided on a day at home. An OFF day but I don’t quite know what I want to do. The Pony is off the road as are all my cars. So now, I am deciding how to pass this day. There is a meeting in Bellingen tonight . I shall maybe book a taxi a little later.
In the meantime, however, I am a thinking. Thinking about the years with Izzy when I didn’t have to paddle my own canoe anymore. Now , all the old lessons are being re-learned. I have lost a goodly amount of faith in myself, life and God.
2 years on there is definitely an easing of the pressure of traumatic recovery. I am still jumpy about making mistakes and shaken when things go seemingly amiss. I am not greatly comforted by things which once worked for me but it is gentler even with Pony off the road and some hidden debts lurking.
Just for today, I am a little adrift. So – lets look back.
I used to live on a hill in Bilambil. In a lovely writer’s cottage and Jaybee and the Girls lived over at Kingscliff on the Beach. I drove all over the place in those days and had plenty of good meetings available to me. I thought there were some really happy endings in that period but they were Happy Nows that went off in all sorts of directions as Life does.
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I lived on the Tweed from 2001 to 2009. First with Guy and then, as usual, by myself and then with Izzy. I did some teaching at Tweed Heads School and became Nana. One time, Jaybee came down with tropical pneumonia and was put into Tweed Hospital. That was a rough time.
It was also a time and place of adventure for us. I had so many meetings and good people and we had the children. I had my Mum’s car and freedom.
HERE WE GO. The fifth of the Silverbirds. Follow the links to the other four. The story of a woman in recovery from drugs and alcohol, death of lover and a sepsis pneumonia. Do join me as I begin life in a new town and new home.
Most of all, we seek to help them rise to what for most is the supreme challenge of their lives, by developing and enjoying their unique personalities to the fullest.
– Bernie S. Siegel
Just living life, not enjoying it, is a tread-water posture some of us adopt in our lives. Afraid to get “too involved” in living, we wait for the sorts to occur. We look for a guide, a leader, to direct our path to physical and spiritual survival.
At first, we may be devastated when we realize that no one else can direct us, guide us, or lead us out of the maze of emotions that accompanies a chronic illness. Others can help, but only if we lead. Gradually we’re finding a unique strength within us, one we’d not known before, that enables us to direct our physical and spiritual programs with greater confidence.
I am on a continuing journey to accept the challenges of my life. Allowing my unique personality to surface is the beginning.