Thursday, 7 August 2014

Part 27 – July 2014



Arnside Tower
At the start of July I felt as if my virus was on its way out but severely lacked energy and even getting up for a short while made me breathless. Nevertheless, I managed to do quite a lot of work revising my blog.
My partner related to me a strange experience he had at work.  His boss and the useless boy had a slanging match in front of him and he didn’t know what to do it about.  As the altercation was meant to be a meeting involving HR and my partner should definitely not have been witness to, I advised him to tell HR.  He countered that they wouldn’t believe him if he told them what was said.  I agreed, but at least it would then be recorded as a concern. 
By midweek, I decided my virus had gone and tried to get back to normal.   It was lovely and pleasant outside which inspired me to put the washing lines back up (again!)  I did some housework but it was very tiring and I had o go back to bed in the afternoon.  I was not up to going to art class in the evening.  Instead, I made some jewellery.
Weird peg dolly tree
Later in the week I went for a walk round town to look at the festival decorations in the run up to the Tour de Farce ‘Grand Depart’.   What a disappointment!  It left me wondering what was wrong with all the supposed artistic and crafty types round these parts – all talk and no action we concluded.  I could not locate the tree my partner had helped to decorate.  However, I took some photos of rather weird peg dollies hanging from a tree.  The following week I found the tree in question - resplendent in flowers made out of plastic bottles.
In the early evening I was in the kitchen boiling the kettle for a brew and contemplating the view out the window.  I got a shock when my partner came down the steps behind me. It really made me jump.  I had not heard him come in.  I only learnt recently that this is a symptom of PTSD.  I told him this to which he said ‘I know’.  I replied ‘I only found out about that recently so I don’t know how you could know’.
Plastic bottle flower tree
When trying to sleep that night, I tossed and turned for ages.  I felt very tearful with sheer frustration and was worried that I would never shake the virus off if I didn’t get some proper kip. I tried some relaxation and eventually slept but felt very unrested and grotty the next morning and had a stinking headache.  I did get up but wondered why I had.  I felt a bit better after coffee and a bath and managed to drag myself out to the supermarket.  I did not have the energy to carry my shopping home so I booked a home delivery.  A small queue formed as my purchases were being sorted and packed.  A woman in the queue said to the cashier in a very condescending tone.  ‘don’t you think you need another till open?’ Her irritating, passive-aggressive manner made me feel like slapping the toffee-nosed cow!
In the afternoon I went back to bed.  My partner was due home early.  He eventually got home about 9.40 after a day from hell.  An alarm had gone off at work jut as he was due to leave and he had to look after some special needs students. Then he was sick due to food poisoning and the cash machine had eaten his card.  He was understandably very stressed out.  I asked why he hadn’t let me know what was happening but to top it all, his phone had died. On Saturday morning, it took him 37 attempts to get through to the bank to order a new cash card! 
Streets in the Sky
My brother and his partner were visiting and we took them to an event in the big town called ‘streets in the sky’.  It was quite amazing – a literal street above the market hall!  We were taken round all four floors of a house whilst a play was being acted.  It was a great experience even though the acting was a bit melodramatic given the intimacy of the performance.  Afterwards we were asked for feedback.  The Artistic Director asked me to do a piece to video to which I said no, but my brother obliged.  We went for a very nice meal, eating out on the terrace of my favourite restaurant before catching a train back and visiting a couple of pubs.
I bumped into various people I knew who said that loads had been going on in town.  Obviously we had missed it all but I was glad we had gone to the performance.  It was worth it just to see the houses.
TDF - Welcoming sign
On Sunday morning my brother and his partner went out quite early to get a good spot to watch ‘the grand depart’ they texted to say where they were and we headed out to try and find them but gave up and waited for the circus to arrive. Of course when the riders appeared, they whizzed by in a flash!  My photos were all predictably rubbish but I did get one of a helicopter (five in the sky at once, unprecedented!)  I later admired the efforts that friends had posted on social media, from North Yorks via our neck of the woods and down to Sheffield.
TDF - helicopter
When we got home, I was shattered.  Not surprising given the amount of walking and standing about that had been involved over the weekend.  After my brother and his partner left, I collapsed on the sofa.
In the evening we laughed at the local news retrospective of Le Tour de Yorkshire ‘Grand Depart’.  My partner had said it was the end of having to hear people say ‘Le Grand Depart’ in a Yorkshire accent but I said I doubted it; they’d be going on about it for weeks.  

I was hopeful that I would drop off quickly that night as I was so sleepy but despite trying various techniques I just couldn’t.  I had a funny little explosion in my head (I had one the week before as well but as it was just an odd one-off, I didn’t make a note of it).  I wasn’t worried but did wonder about it – was it physiological or neurological?  I did meditation and eventually slept but was still very tired the next morning. 
On the Monday morning I briefly mentioned the mini head explosion to my partner who actually seemed to have never heard of it which made a change.  At my third counselling appointment I took the opportunity to ask her about it but she was clueless.  She said her appointments were full for the next week and I was away anyway so we booked in for the week after and she said we would start ‘processing’ then.  In the meantime, we talked again about how I was and my problems with sleep.  She started down the path of going through all the things I could do to help me sleep. 
I repeated that I had tried them all.  She read some stuff from a book about pretending to be an eagle.  Good grief!  I really do have to watch myself when them counsellor types ask me why I am anxious as they make me feel worse with their daft questions and ‘sleep hygiene’ nonsense.  I did agree to look at my diet to see if there was anything I could add or change to help and to show her my sleep diary next time.
I did some research into what turned out to be called Exploding Head syndrome (yes, really!)  Although known about for 150 years there is very little research on it (probably because it’s most common in women aged 50 plus, like the menopause) and very little GP awareness.  Theories as to causes vary but basically, it happens when neurones misfire owing to not having the correct sequence when going to sleep (http://www.smrv-journal.com/article/S1087-0792%2814%2900022-7/abstract.)
When my partner got home I talked about it and he said he had something similar.  I laughed. In the morning he had reacted as if it was a totally new one on him.  He said he had thought about it since and he gets noises like slamming doors.  I had to concede this was also included in the syndrome along with hearing shouting (which I had back in January but thought it was in a dream) and hearing lights turn off or on (which I experienced the following week).  We also talked about my counselling session and what a waste of time it all was.
My partner had a hard day as well but when I said he needed to be careful he didn’t reach breaking point, he said he was okay and it was just the usual horridness, not like last Friday. 
Again, I struggled get to sleep.  My meditation and breathing exercises failed to do the trick.  I contemplated some of what the counsellor had said and thought again about how they all just address the symptoms not the cause.  Nevertheless, I really needed to turn my mind off at night to sleep and after trying very hard I eventually dropped off.
 
Other light relief came in the form of the world cup semi-finals, the first of which saw Brazil being humiliated and annihilated by Germany 7-1.  My partner watched it on his way home and we texted each other about the madness.  He said they should have got on a bus at half time (and it looked like half the Brazil fans did).  When he got home, we chatted about how on earth they had got this far being so crap.  The second match was less entertaining, with no goals so it ended with the dreaded penalties which the Argies won of course.
Tuesday night was very odd indeed.  Unusually, I went to sleep really quickly but then woke up at least every hour.  The next morning I thought about the therapy lark again and realised that I was very annoyed with the counsellor.  I felt like half of the allotted six sessions had been wasted by her waffling on about relaxation and ‘sleep hygiene’ instead of getting down to helping me deal with my actual problem.  This was so frustrating especially as I was quite hopeful after the first session.  I looked at my sleep pattern again and tried to be a bit more objective about the quality but found this quite hard. 
My mounted print
At the last art class of the term I finished my crap watercolour painting.  We had a glass of wine and arranged to keep in touch over the summer.  They decided to go for a drink the following week when I would be away.   I took my artwork home including the mounted print that I had missed seeing in the exhibition.  I walked back with my art pal and told her about ‘streets in the sky’.  She was incredulous so I showed her my phone photos.  I spotted my walking friend outside the pub on the corner and arranged for her to come round the following day.   
We had a pleasant hour or so sitting outside on the new bench with coffee and biccies and talking about the TDF.  She had gone up the moors to watch it and got quite caught up in the atmosphere (a few people I know have said similar, even non- cycling fans.  I concluded that I had a gene missing as I didn’t get that buzz off crowds unless it was something I was enthusiastic about in the first place).  She was off on another walk with her companion, to chase thunderstorms on the moors which I said was rash.  I tried to advise her on personal safety but she said she knew it all (but didn’t do it). 
That night I took two Temazepam and was asleep really quickly and slept until almost 5 o’clock straight. After that, it was more erratic but at least I had one decent lump.  Unfortunately, Friday night was less good so on Saturday I felt very groggy but had to get up and get ready to catch the train to Kent’s Bank.
Rusty old tractor
It was a first for us to have an English holiday involving public transport and a hotel rather than a car and a tent   It made for quite a different experience with visits to numerous small villages and country inns that we would otherwise have driven right passed.  This made us more aware of the local character (and characters) of the area.  Highlights included an old man going for a walk with two aged dogs (one of which literally creaked) followed by a cat, rusty old tractors and a farmer selling ‘poatoes’.
Illiterate sign
The hotel itself was so pleasant and relaxing that we stayed on an extra night, in spite of my inevitable tiredness.  There was no TV in the rooms (it was currently being installed due to public demand) but there were two television lounges.  On the Sunday night we got back from an evening out just as Extra Time in the World Cup Final between Argentina and Germany was getting underway.  A handful of people were watching the game but the room was eerily silent.  When Germany finally scored, I shouted ‘yes!’ very quietly and thought I heard a murmur behind me but couldn’t be sure.  Later on, my partner said that it was so quiet because most of them were asleep (well, the average age was about 92!)
Gerroff!
On the sightseeing front, we visited Furness Abbey, Holker Hall (both of which are large, well-known attractions) and Arnside Tower (which we were previously unaware of).  The tower is located in a cow field and we got the distinct impression that the farmer really disliked people visiting but had no choice due to it being a public right of way, for which the sign had been taken down.  Mysteriously, the tower looked like a dwelling with several windows and part of a staircase intact but also heavily fortified.  It stood sentinel above a dip in the landscape containing a sliver of water which could have been a river valley at one time.  We imagined that whoever lived there expected trouble back when this was border country.
Brief Encounters’ refreshment room
Inevitably, I was forced to visit Carnforth to see some old roiling stock (as if we hadn’t seen enough trains already).  I had to admit that the heritage centre gave great insight into the history of the railways in that part of the world and the evocative ‘Brief Encounters’ refreshment room looked exactly the same as in the film, including the original samovar.  I bought a copy of 'Bradshaw's Guide’ (as seen on TV) and some liquorice fudge called ‘sacks of coal (delicious!)
We travelled back in the heat on the Thursday afternoon.  Needless to say I was shattered from being away and travelling and could barely keep my eyes open.  I had also been feeling a bit poorly again on and off since the Tuesday.  I decided to take Temazepam that night - I didn’t want to risk not sleeping and hadn’t had any for two weeks - and fell asleep very quickly. 
On the Friday I went out for some essentials and it felt extremely weird.  A cool wind blew in from the east but when that dropped, the air was really warm. 
In the afternoon, I started to feel ill again and spent the weekend in bed which was very annoying.  It started by feeling generally fuzzy and wobbly and then my nose became very runny and itchy.  On the plus side, I totally missed the thunderstorms – god knows how I slept through them with my usual insomnia!  I did feel really fed up though and when the sun peeped from behind the clouds on the Sunday, I said vey peevishly that I didn’t want it to be sunny (as I couldn’t go out and enjoy it) so it went in again; then I was sorry I’d said it.
In the meantime, my partner was liaising with his sister.  Their mum had suffered from Alzheimer’s for some years and was in a care home.  She had gone completely manic and on the Saturday night she hit her head and the carers called an ambulance.  This prompted debate as to whether they would stick to her ‘end of life plan’. 
On the Monday morning my partner travelled over to his home town.   I felt worse again and resigned myself to another day in bed even though it was lovely and sunny.  I kept my mind occupied by sorting my holiday photos and working on my draft blog.  When I came down for lunch I realised to my horror that here was no coffee!  I dragged myself out to the shop for supplies then collapsed on the bed again.
I watched an item on television which said pollen levels were 17 times higher this year.  It made me wonder if my illness was in some way related.  Although I felt very wobbly and dizzy like it was viral, I did speculate that the nasal symptoms could be hay fever.  I took a generic antihistamine pill then fell asleep for an hour.  When I woke up, I realised I had left my ipad on meaning I must have just dropped off suddenly whilst reading (so much for non-drowsy pills!)  I was very groggy but the niggle in my nose had eased off so maybe the pill had helped.
My partner and his sister managed to implement the ‘end of life plan’ for their mum which meant morphine only.  She had turned into a sweary, violent old woman which was of course due to the Alzheimer’s.  My partner had a few bruises and a bite mark from his sisters’ young son but remained as stoical as ever.  He said there was no way of knowing how long it would be until the actual end. 
I agreed and remembered that with my dad it had been about a week once he went onto morphine only.  There must have been a part of her wanting an end though because when she was trying to get up and go and was asked ‘where do you want to go’ she said ‘to the grave’.  He did some reminiscing with his sister about what a weird childhood they had – making themselves a drink when they came in from school (and I don’t mean juice!) He also found time to take a delightful photo of dereliction in his home town. 
That night I took Phenargen as I was still going with the pollen theory and I thought it might help me to sleep too. However, it had totally the opposite effect and I took ages to drop off.
The next morning I got dressed and went downstairs but still felt very wobbly and decided I probably needed to go back to bed.  I added bits from my holiday diary to my blog.  It was quite hard work choosing what to put in but I was pleased with my description of Arnside Tower.  I was glad I that did some descriptive writing while I was away.  I did manage some time out of bed later on and sat out in the sun but I still felt tired and pathetic.
After a fitful night, on Wednesday morning I really struggled to come round and kept drifting off again.  I feebly called to my partner and he said he was having a shower as he had to go.  I assumed he meant going to work.  It was after breakfast that he told me he was going to his home town again.  His mum had not been conscious since the previous night and it looked like the end was nigh.   
After he left I tried to keep occupied with housework but got very tired and out of breath.  I stopped for a rest and sat outside working on redrafting my early blog.  This took lots of brain power so I got mentally as well as physically tired. I also rang my mum.  When I mentioned that my partner’s mum was dying she said ‘how old is she?’ I reassured her that she was older (although in fact she wasn’t but had totally different health issues).  I heard my pal down the road and realised she was sat outside so I popped down for a chat.  She had company and I barely had time to mention my partner’s mum before she was bustling about to get tea on.  She was going away for the weekend but invited me to call her on Tuesday before she went off to Canada.
My partner rang me late to say he was at his home town station and would be home about 11.45.  I asked why didn’t he stay over but he said it was too disruptive. 
Again I had a fitful night and in the morning my partner said he was returning to his home town.  Again I said why didn’t he at least take a shirt and a toothbrush to save himself all the travel.  He kept saying it would be over soon – his mum was hardly breathing at all– but I said he didn’t know that, and he had said the same the day before.  I felt terrible from lack of sleep but tried not to think of myself and when my partner said ‘what’s up’ I hid my irritation.
He had been complaining about having to drink institutional coffee at his mum’s care home so I made up a flask for him to take.  Meanwhile, he was on the phone to his sister again.   He said the end was even more imminent now and he had delayed going because his aunty was there and had been ‘hearing things’ in his mum’s ramblings.  We talked about what a load of old nonsense that was and how people like to romanticise dying, fantasising that someone is going to say something really profound at the end like in the movies.  Real life was rarely like that.  We mused on how odd the whole dying thing was and why people cling on, and whether it is cellular or cerebral.  He also told me more stuff about his weird childhood including his interesting gran who worked in munitions in the war.  I couldn’t help thinking there was a good story in there somewhere!
After he left I kept busy again with chores and shopping but I felt really tired and it was hard to concentrate on doing anything.  In the early afternoon I went for a rest but couldn’t sleep and I had a feeling there would be a text waiting for me from my partner which indeed there was.  His mum died at 3 o’clock.  He said he was waiting for a nurse to arrive to make it official and his sister who was at a ‘beeeutiful singing child concert’.  He rang me later and was understandably very relieved it was over.  He planned to be home by about 6.30 but due to delayed trains he didn’t actually arrive until 10 (them train drivers always skive off early when it’s nice weather!)
I still couldn’t really concentrate on doing anything and watched television.  I got very upset by the Israeli bombing of a UN shelter in Gaza and could barley watch the news.  As I said on social media, when were they going to be brought to account for this blatant war crime? I went back outside to escape the horror and ended up telling one of my neighbours about my partner’s mum. 
When my partner got home we talked about his family and also the Israel/Gaza situation.  He said people were bucketing for money for Hamas outside Leeds train station; the tide was turning at last.  Not that I supported Hamas but as usual, the Israeli government was totally out of order in its disproportionate response and I was sick to death of the West propping them up. 
I took Temazepam and had a better night.  The next morning I heard my partner in the bathroom and called to him.  He said yes I know you’re here and I replied that I was checking he was okay as it sounded like he was being sick.  But he said he was fine.
Later on I went to the supermarket and on the way back I saw the bead shop woman and we had a chat about dying relatives.  I reflected that I had mentioned the death of my partner’s mum to random acquaintances more than to actual friends and realised later that this was subconsciously deliberate to prevent any overly-emotional reactions.
In the afternoon I still didn’t feel up to using my brain much but felt bad not doing anything productive.  I remembered I had kept a magazine from Christmas with some short stories in it which I hadn’t got round to reading.  It was interesting to compare the different writing styles and the use of various devices to build suspense.  My partner was meant to be home early but of course he wasn’t, due to delayed trains again!
Small steps
Over the weekend the weather stayed warm and mainly fine.  We wanted to forget our troubles and enjoy it as we had not been able to during the week.  On the Saturday we got the country bus and walked back down through woods and crags. photo of small steps 
We stopped at various points, for a picnic and a pint an to take in the scenery.  Then wandered into town and went to our old local.  We sat out in the lovely evening sun with a couple of pints and chatted to some friends and acquaintances briefly.  But mainly we talked to each other. 
Inevitably, we talked quite a bit about my partner’s mum and how he really was not upset about her dying – he felt that he had already done the grief thing whilst sat with her in the final phase of her life.  I understood this but did say grief was unpredictable and it could hit again later (as happened with me after my dad died).  
Beautiful balsam!
 I confessed that I had been tempted to visit the pub the previous evening but had decided against it as I would probably have got onto the subject and some people we know would not have understood the lack of grief. 
We went onto the coaching inn for dinner.  There were a group of very drunk people on the next table.  They discovered that their last train had been cancelled.  One of them argued that there must be a replacement bus service but we joined in the discussion to tell them there would not.
Reflections
Sunday started a bit cooler but then brightened up and even though we were achy and tired from the previous day’s ramble, we made the effort to go out.  We walked towards the nearby woods.  We saw an old friend walking her dog.  It had been literally years since I last saw her and updated her on what was going on. In the woods, we pootled about for ages looking for bits of pot, made easier by the low river water levels due to the dry weather.  I showed my partner the path I found with my walking friend a couple of months back.   
View of a wrecked shed
It was steeper than I remembered but the views compensated for that.  We took a different path down.  Unusually, it was slippy due to dryness.  I skidded on a pebble and fell on my arse.   I was so tired and sore that evening. 
Thankfully, I had a reasonable night’s sleep.  Around mid-morning on Monday, my partner’s sister rang to say the funeral would be on Thursday morning and we arranged to travel down Wednesday night.   I booked a room in the hotel where the wake would be held.
In the evening we chatted about the logistics and he showed me images of the Church where the funeral service would be.  He said he was not sure what time it would all be over and it would depend on his dad behaving.  His dad had been in denial about his wife’s condition and even conveniently forgot he was ever married! I said it would probably be okay. 
That night I couldn’t relax and I felt poorly again.  I got up for aspirin and did some relaxation and eventually managed to sleep.   The next morning I felt okay at first.  I kept busy with housework and editing my old blog.  It was hard going and there was a lot of work still to do to turn it into a book!  I re-visited the idea of writing shorter articles to send off to publications in the meantime and really thought this was a good plan.  However, I still did not have the energy or stamina to do it.  I tried to meet up with my good friend down the road before she went off to Canada but she was too busy in the end and said she would text me when she got back.
Mid-morning I started to feel ill yet again but took more aspirin and soldiered on.  In the afternoon I decided to alternate with antihistamines in case it was some pollen-related malady. After taking one in the afternoon, I went for a rest, slept for about an hour (them so-called non-drowsy pills again!) then felt groggy  as well as poorly.
In the evening I mentioned to my partner that I was not feeling well and he inevitably said I didn’t have to go to his home town with him.  I said ‘I knew you’d say that.  I am going.  I don’t want to be ill; I am sick of being ill!’ 
That night I took my last two Phenargen pills and this time I sat up reading until they took effect.  This seemed to work and I was asleep soon after 12 and slept through to 5.30!   As a result, I felt more rested but woozy and still poorly in a very annoying low grade way but was determined to carry on.
I had signed up to a summer painting class: ‘landscape to abstract’.  It  was a bit chaotic at first and most of the group knew each other from the regular oil painting workshop.  During all the dithering I eventually managed to find a seat with an easel.  The tutor talked for quarter of an hour then said ‘go paint’.  I had some source photos on one drive but no wifi key so I couldn’t access them and spent another quarter of an hour looking through books for ideas.  Eventually I picked something at random and slapped paint on a board. 
'Edge of Time' stage 2
The colours started running into each other so I dabbed at it with tissue which took the paint off and I was getting a bit frustrated then I thought hang on; I quite like that!  I sat looking at it when the tutor came round and said it was really good and looked finished.  I told him it was just the base coat!  When the paint had dried I stuck some red blobs on to look like meteorites and decided to call it ‘edge of time’ or ‘fiery death’.  Again, the tutor came round and said it was great and that I had done ‘the boldest painting out of everyone’.  I said that was probably because I didn’t have any pre-conceived ideas about what I was trying to achieve and he said it was very brave. 
It was only about 3 o’clock therefore too early to finish so I added more colours but didn’t like the result much.  The tutor didn’t say so but I could tell he thought I had overdone it.  In the meantime, my partner rang to say he had already left work and I said if I had known, I could have left sooner and got an earlier train. 
Anyway, I got the planned train.  My partner kept texting and ringing about what train I was on.  He had a different time for the Leeds departure and I assured him there would only be one train to Selby.  By the time he got on the train at Leeds it was rammed and we had a tedious journey stopping everywhere.  It was quite a relief to have to get off due to engineering works and get on a nice, empty ‘rail replacement’ bus.  I sat back and enjoyed the flat East Yorks scenery including views of Drax power station and haymaking. 
At the hotel, we were given an attic room (servants quarters again – that’s what you get for always booking the cheapest rate!) but pleasant enough.  We unpacked and freshened up then went in search of a nearby Chinese restaurant that someone had recommended.  It was actually really good.  Then we went to a traditional local pub to meet my partner’s sister.  There was inevitably family and funeral talk and I said again I was sure it would all be okay.  Due to the unique local licensing laws, we were chucked out just before 11 and managed to get a final drink at the hotel bar (just). 
Old streets
I had a terrible night with hardly any sleep.  We got up early and after breakfast I asked my partner to show me more of the area of the city which I knew nothing about.  It was where he grew up.  Back then, it was all cramped terraced houses and workshops.  Of course it had changed a lot since but some of the old buildings still remained.  Strangely, it had always had a posh square with the theatre at one side and the hotel on the other.
Awesome church
We returned to the hotel to meet my partner’s sister and her husband and they all went off to collect their dad. In the meantime, I wandered round a bit more until just before the appointed time.  As I had predicted, it all went very smoothly without any histrionics. 
When I got to the church my partner and his sister were greeting people at the door.  He told me to go and sit anywhere so I sat at the back and perused the order of service and hymns.  He had warned me they were the most ‘hardcore’ ones he could think of but ‘bathing in the wounds of Christ’?  What is that about?
I admired the church deco which was truly awesome – like a piece of southern Europe in the middle of a Northern city!  My partner had said it would be a short mass but it was still an hour long.  After that, I went with the family to the crematorium before returning to the hotel to join the others for a buffet.  I made friends with a young woman who lived quite near us – small world!
We had a long journey home, in the stifling rush hour so of course we were exhausted when we got home.  I went to bed early and thankfully had the best night’s sleep in ages!  Unfortunately, this did not cure me of the lingering virus and I still felt rubbish at the start of August...

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