How's your day? blog 107 Not all beer and skittles

How’s your day? Blog 107, not all skittles and beer

© Peter A Taylor

I write to share with you how my day is going from a request by my sister over two years ago. Her friends asked how I am and how I keep doing what I do. For those of you have read some of my blogs , they are comments and snippets of my life as I travel the terminal health route and on the way lost my hearing and 80% of my sight. The strange thing is, I continued to live.

 

I understood my role as a writer was to inspire others as this seemed to be the genre I had fallen into by default.

 

My speaking presentations focused on what you can do and not what you can’t  and of course I can’t change my circumstances but I have the choice to change my attitude.

 

Through the past 17 years of constant treatment, being poked at , bits cut off and used as a lab rat, I’ve maintained my ability of resilience to stay positive.

 

My wellness is a full time job and one must be diligent not to let negatives creep under doors or slide in through window cracks. It is most important to avoid depression even when became profoundly deaf and communicated by touch. The vortex will suck the humanity from your very soul.

 

This week my return to the hospital for my 3 doses, one a day proved as tough as usual. A toilet before leaving the house was painful and on arrival at the hospital I had a pinched hernia in my groin. Oh stink, A bit of morphine and a relaxant later, the offending intestine was pushed back behind my abdomen wall and yes, the surgeon agreed it should be operated on. A good result.

 

The next morning as I settled into my windowless room to begin my treatment , yet another blood sample was required. My central port would not produce so I agreed to use my arm. As the nurse prepared to stick me, my face creased and I placed my palm over my eyes as I began to cry silently.

          ‘Oh Donna, what have they done to me,’ I cried in a tired weak voice.  both

Wrapping my other hand in both of hers, so warm and comforting, I regained my composure quickly. This nurse is one of several who have treated me over the last 11 years.

It was a sign I am emotionally and mentally exhausted.

The Registrar arrived and requested the blood for a cross match as my cants were low and I need a blood transfusion. Oh how simple as this explains my set of being. I’m just worn out from the struggle to make the best of what I’ve got. On the final day of treatment now dose 913; the fresh blood followed giving me some colour to my face.

 

As much as I press on in this unknown and uncharted territory I try my best to remain positive, active and productive. It’s not all beer and skittles. I am forever grateful and we thanks each day to my partner for unconditional support and love, the reason why I continue to live.

 

To finish on a brighter note. Checking my garden after the last storm was a surprise. This summer I planted two Swan Plants to attract Monarch Butterflies. All summer I saw them visit my garden but no one sat on my plant. Yesterday I noticed one of the plants had blown over. As I righted it, I noticed the other was severely eaten. To my delight I have four fat striped caterpillars hanging in the rain on tee one bush. Pushing the other into the eaten one will give more chance for the caterpillars to get to the correct size and grow into the astonishing beauties that we all love and admire.