Hospital Musings

Thankfully (and I don't say that lightly), I have never had to spend much time in hospitals. Other than a blood test or fifty (OK, slight exaggeration, but actually not that much) and a cast for a fractured ankle back in the day, I've never been in hospital myself. I've visited my Dad a few times over the years during his three hip operations, but I don't really remember spending as much time at the hospital as I have done this time. Maybe it's because I'm a bit older and have been visiting of my own accord, or perhaps I've been more observant this time around, but I have definitely seen a glimpse of how stressful and/or depressing spending lots of time in a hospital can be. I know my Dad is definitely ready to come home now, as evidenced by his lack of appetite with the hospital food, but his ability to wolf down loads of the home cooking my Mum brings when she visits, and his recent penchant for cracking even sillier jokes than usual and commenting he must be going a bit cuckoo. :o)

Here are a few little observations I've made during my numerous visits this past week and a half:

• Hospital toilets are hit-and-miss.
  This may seem like a trite observation, but when you're in the place for a few hours at a time, you'll inevitably need to go. Also, when you're particularly tired and getting somewhat bored, you start to notice completely insignificant things. Some I went in were pretty dire; Bigger Sis had been in them before me and thankfully warned me off a particularly heinous cubicle. However, another one I went in was completely lit with UV light, which felt disturbingly like I was using the bathroom of some trying-to-be-trendy club. It was also rather more disturbing that there was a digital display on the wall with the number '134' lit up in red, accompanied by a notice which explained:
  

  "Green light - minutes until next inspection
  Red light - minutes inspection overdue"

  Um...that would be slightly overdue then. A chart on the door had the times of cleaning inspections and a signature for each time, every two hours.
  Last clean signed for? 7.30pm.
  Time when I was in there? 6.05pm.
  Um...that would be a little inaccurate then. You know you're spending too much time somewhere when you start analysing how accurate the toilet cleaning times are.
  
  
• Having a member of the medical profession as a family member makes you:
  a.) painfully aware of any inadequacies in treatment, and
  b.) feel very awkward when such inadequacies are pointed out by said family member in a very direct way to the actual medical staff.
  As much as I appreciate and don't disagree with my Mum's medical knowledge (which gives her high expectations of the standard of care) and the fact that she is very protective of her family, I have never found a hospital floor so interesting as when she was brutally quizzing a doctor on his questionable explanations of treatment.
  
  
• Some hospital staff are way better than others.
  For example, aforementioned doctors who fob people off with crap explanations for their medical decisions; nurses with bad attitudes who talk over the patient and then proceed to argue in front of them with their colleagues who have simply asked for an explanation of what medication they have administered and why; nursing assistants who move so slowly that if you needed the toilet and asked for a portable urinal, it would probably be quicker to order one on the internet than wait for them to go and fetch one.
  
  
• I'd be a very bad patient.
  Stubbornness runs in my family; I can totally see myself in my Dad. He's stubborn as hell and generally doesn't like being told what to do, won't make a fuss even when he's uncomfortable or unhappy, is independent and likes doing his own thing as and when he wants to. I'm praying I never have to spend much time in hospital. God help the nursing staff if ever I do...
  
  
• Hospital canteens do great cake and custard.
  A guilty pleasure that takes me straight back to primary school. Yes, you can get takeaway. And the canteen is open till midnight! I might have to make a detour there when I'm next coming home late...
  
  
• Shop and canteen staff vary in their genuine friendliness.
  One guy looked like the Bangladeshi version of Diego Maradona, and was quite delighted when my Mum pointed this out to him, engaging us in friendly banter and giving my Mum the NHS discount (cake and custard and a discount? Woo hooski!) and then saying "Hello madam," when he later saw us in the corridor. Another guy was extra friendly to us when he found out Mum was from the same country as him. He let me and Big Sis off 16p when we didn't have enough change (or 'country-person discount' as I like to call it), but when I went there later on my own and had my guard down, he tried to chat me up, asking for my number as if I owed him that for the 16p he wouldn't let me pay back. (No, he didn't get it.)
  
  
• This list has got rather long and pointless and isn't really about hospitals any more.
  I told you spending too much time in these places makes one notice stupid things that would otherwise seem completely insignificant. I can only imagine how my Dad must feel. Hopefully he's coming home in the next couple of days. I really hope so. Mostly so that he can get better in the comfort of his own home, but additionally so I won't be tempted to write any more ridiculously random blog posts.
  

Curltastic

I should have learnt from the incident with the scissors. But I'll admit, I was being a bit harsh on my Mum's hairdressing skills. I never usually like my hair when it's just been cut or curled. I need a few days or a week or so for it to calm down and me to get used to it and then I usually love it. In addition to the scissors, my Mum also has curlers. Danger! So she permed my hair for me, as she has done several times before now. I much prefer having curly-ish hair to my usual 'straight with an annoying obstinate kink' locks. I am also fantastically lazy and can think of a thousand more exciting things to do than spend time styling my hair in the morning (namely sleep), which is what I'd have to do to get my hair how I like it, if my hair was au naturel. Since I much prefer having hair that I can just wash and leave be, curling it works for me. So I am not complaining. I asked my Mum to do my hair and she willingly obliged, even though it takes ages and she doesn't even request payment for it. My Mum has skills. But until the curls have calmed down and it has grown out just a tiny bit, the truth is that I look a bit like Kate Humble.











Only with much darker hair. And a bit more beige, obviously. This is not such a bad thing I suppose. Maybe this would be more accurate:


The crazy bush woman look is back, baby.

The Week in Review #3

Wowza. I don't know where this week went. I am absolutely shattered. It is late and I should be catching up on the several hours I am now lacking in sleep, but instead I am up, listening to a sermon about the law of God on DVD and trying to remember exactly what my existence consisted of this week! Dazed and confused.

OK, so my week (if I remember it) in review:

1. I lost my memory. I honestly don't remember half of this week, at least not in detail. My days have mostly consisted of getting up late, going to work (just about) on time, leaving work a little early, going straight to the hospital to see my Dad, trying to get a bite to eat on the way to or from the hospital and then going home, trying to relax for a bit and sleeping much later than I should have. By Tuesday, it felt like it should be Friday, which could only lead to 3 days of disappointment until it actually was Friday.

2. I had a rubbish work week. I didn't go to work on Monday; I was feeling under the weather and couldn't face it. I just needed a rest. When I went back to work on Tuesday, I realised that Monday had been a payment deadline and my absence meant I had missed handing in some forms that really should have been submitted in order for some payments to go through on time. The day kinda went downhill from there. I was feeling down about some other stuff and the combination made 2 and 2 equal 54. I picked myself up a little but just couldn't get motivated about being there. On Thursday, after a nice conversation with my Boy the night before, I went in feeling positive and chirpy. Mid-morning someone from another department called me and berated me about something I hadn't done. She literally told me off, non-stop for about 2 minutes, not even giving me the opportunity to explain, defend myself or apologise, before she hung up. I felt about 8 years old and honestly was close to tears. I so don't get paid enough for this.

3. I had a couple of good moments in an otherwise crap work week. After the telling-off episode yesterday, I had my weekly one-to-one meeting with my boss. I knew that I was partly at fault for not getting this thing done sooner, but the reaction seemed to exceed the severity of the problem. My boss got somewhat defensive on my behalf. She ended up sending an email that was firm but fair, not really taking or apportioning blame, but making it clear that we are understaffed, that I am taking on responsibilities that are above and beyond my current grade, and that any other such complaints or comments should come through her. I know she's my boss and she's supposed to do that, but it was nice to have someone stick up for me for a change.

After the restrained excitement of learning that my Boy was planning to come and see me in January, I realised my statement of "just let me know what dates you're coming and I'll book them off at work now, it's not a problem," was maybe a little hasty. When I got back to work I realised his planned trip was right on what is probably the biggest deadline I have to deal with all year. Oops. This year it fell during my second week in this job and I didn't know what hit me. We were processing over 400 applications, checking eligibility, collating their documents, scanning said documents, saving the files and getting all the eligible applications to departments for short-listing, within a week or so of the deadline closing. I couldn't really see how taking 3 days off work during that week would be allowed, but I had decided we needed to plan ahead either way to streamline processes and spread the work out over the next month and a half, rather than leaving so much till the deadline hit. But my boss came through for me again. She was pretty cool about it. This may have something to do with the fact that she wasn't here this time last year, but I am glad she is so laid-back at times. I also love the fact that she is well aware that life comes before work. I hate bosses that are overly obsessed with their jobs and expect the same crazy dedication from everyone else. As soon as she said it would be OK, I put it straight on my leave card. I want it in writing, before anyone can change their mind!

4. I had moral support in bucket loads. My colleagues and I started a little tradition a few months ago. Every pay day (once a month), we order pizza for lunch, delivered to our office. We call it 'Pay Day Pizza' and you'd be surprised at how much joy it brings, no joke. Pay day was Monday of this week. Pay day and Pizza on a Monday! Just what you need. Only problem was I was off sick. My lovely workmates waited till I came back to work on Tuesday to order pizza. I thought it was really sweet of them. It may also have been because then the cost was split 4 ways instead of 3. But I'm going to stick to the former, so humour me. :o)

Pizza aside, Tuesday was an otherwise not-so-good day. In urgent need of moral support, I emailed my friend. After an encouraging reply, she told me to meet her for a quick drink after work, because she wanted to give me a big hug! So I did and she did, as promised. We sat in Starbucks, hot chocolate and chai tea latte in hand and had a nice chat. I had to rush off to visit Dad after that, so I think we only had about an hour, but I felt so much better. I really am grateful for great friends. She continued to check up on me through the week, sending me quick emails to say hi and see if I was OK, and then lovely long essays (lol) in response to my paragraphs of ranting and advice requests. We got a bit soppy and expressed how glad we both were that we have stayed in touch since I left my old workplace. Sometimes you make a great friendship with a person in a specific circumstance, but when that situation changes, the friendship falls off too. That hasn't happened with us and I think I may have made a friend for life. That girl rocks.

The Mrs. gave me her own brand of moral support, which was no-nonsense but lovely as usual, but also included huge doses of laughter. She never fails to crack me up, even when she has her own difficult stuff going on. We spoke, we laughed, we dissected, we cussed, we analysed. She ain't my Mrs. for nothin'. Love her.

5. I remembered that boys will be boys. I think I probably give my Boy a bad rap on here. He is lovely and understanding and knows how to deal with my shocking moodiness (haha). But sometimes, girls and boys just have different ideas on moral support. He asked how I was and I told him I had been feeling really tired and run-down and that my Doc had told me I'm low on iron. His response? "So get more iron." Thank you for that ground breaking advice, Doctor. The next day he ended our phone conversation by joking about something that I didn't find funny, especially because of my sensitive mood. The day after, he was in a stupid mood and was being silly when I needed some TLC. In fairness, he wouldn't really have known how I was feeling since I didn't explicitly express it, but when you're having the first proper conversation you've had all week, it's hard to start it with "I'm feeling crap, I'm unable to laugh and be nice right now, I need you to fuss over me." It seems a little self-indulgent sometimes.

Anyway, after us talking for a while and me trying to feel happier but instead feeling that I was just tolerating his silly mood, I felt really down for no specific reason. I tried to go to sleep but lay there in tears, partially out of inexplicable sadness and partially my frustration at feeling such sadness for no identifiable reason. I ended up calling him again and for a change, instead of expecting him to psychically deduce my mood and act accordingly to cheer me up (!) I actually told him how I feel and what I needed him to do. Within 10 minutes he had calmed me down, made me feel better, helped me to focus on the positive things and wished me sweet dreams, with me feeling much happier and more relaxed. I went to sleep being reminded why he means so much to me. I know sometimes us girls want a guy to just know how we're feeling, or what we need at a particular time, but I'm realising how silly it can be to get annoyed with them if they don't just 'get' it. If you never tell them, how will they know? I've been told that generally men don't pick up on the subtleties. If you tell them in great detail and they still don't get it? Then I guess that's the time to start worrying.

6. I slept like the dead. I didn't really get enough sleep through the week, which I know is not helping my health or my mood. But I sure made up for it at the weekend. I think I had about 10 hours sleep on both Friday and Saturday night, sleeping through without properly waking the whole time. I think maybe I was meant to be a hibernatory animal. Or at least a cat.

I think that's about it. I always do these posts as a review, which should really be a summary of the week. A summary suggests a short round-up, but I always seem to end up writing a tome of epic proportions. In fact, I started this post on Friday and am now finishing it on Sunday evening. I obviously have a problem with brevity. God bless you if you're still reading at this point. I've kinda switched off myself and I'm writing it! Hey-ho, on to another week, whatever it may bring...

Friday Fill-In #10

This is the 100th Friday Fill-In!

1. My stomach muscles are killing me from my gym escapade yesterday. I don't mind my tummy, generally. But while I understand the notion of 'no pain, no gain,' I am feeling much more pain than I am seeing gain so far...
2. Comfort food is what I ate the most of on Thursday. I actually had roast turkey, roast potatoes and sweetcorn with cranberry sauce and gravy at work yesterday. But the best thing was a chunky vegetable soup/stew my Mum made that took me right back to childhood.
3. The yard is apparently the outside space at the front or back of your house...my Boy laughs at me when I call it the 'garden.'
4. Not at work is where I'd rather be at any given time.
5. The smell of mints mixed with the vague aroma of cigarette smoke and a whiff of comforting old ladies' perfume reminds me of my old piano teacher's house! I loved that lady.
6. Extra sleep and lots of it is what I need right now! (I seem to say it every week, but it's always true.)
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to seeing my Dad and then staying at the 'rents house, tomorrow my plans include going to church, visting Dad and watching the X-Factor while getting my hair did (curls rock my world, lol) and Sunday, I want to attend my last Bible course, feel bad that I didn't actually finish all the assignments, put some stuff to sell on eBay and finish writing that song that has been in progress for a few months!

Friday Fill-Ins come courtesy of Janet. Click the button to play too!

I'd Like To Thank...

So apparently, it's some sort of 'Thanksgiving' day in the ol' USA today. Or, as my Dad described it when I told him this was the case, "Oh, it's their turkey time today, is it?" :o)

I am a little sad today, because I know my guy is celebrating with his family and I wish I could be there to share it. Aside from the American historical aspect, I love the idea of Thanksgiving. It's such a simple thing, but I like the notion of a day set aside for being with your loved ones, to take stock of all the aspects of life that are special, to remember what you are grateful for and express appreciation for it.

So, although I don't have the privilege of a whole weekend off in which to do this (I'm not bitter), I thought some thanks of my own were in order. So, this year, what am I thankful for?

• The fact that this year is nearly over. This might sound a terribly negative first point to make, but it has been an odd sort of year. I have had the usual peaks and troughs of contentment, have faced a steep learning curve at times and have done some growing up, I think. It hasn't necessarily been easy or enjoyable, but I'm further along than I was at the top of the year. And for that, I am thankful.
  
  
• My relationships. I know everyone says they are thankful for their friends and family, but I am specifically thankful for the developments in my relationships this year so far. I think I have got to know myself a little better this year, which has enhanced the way I respond to situations and interact with those around me. I feel I have grown closer to those already close to me and got to know some wonderful people I didn't know before.
  
  
• Moral support. I don't have a huge circle of friends, but the people in my life sure are there for a reason. I have fantastic sisters. I have a best friend I sincerely love. I have close friends that have proved indispensable to me, that I appreciate dearly. Sometimes you don't realise how many supportive people you have in your life until you suddenly find you really need the support. I needed support this year and I am so thankful for how much I actually have.
  
  
• Creative outlets. Writing can be such a therapeutic exercise. I am thankful that at times when I am unable to express something verbally, or deal with it practically, the words on the page allow the catharsis I need.
  
  
• Answered prayers. I am sorry to admit that I haven't been faithful to God in my actions this year. I have been rebellious, stubborn-headed and obstinate. I've wrestled with a few issues and feelings. But I've spoken to Him about it, through my tears and disappointments and contrition. I am so thankful that God is not only patient with me, but when I have sincerely asked for help for others as well as myself, He has come through for me, on several occasions. There is nothing I have done to deserve God's love and blessings. How could I ever be unthankful for that?
  
  
• Random meetings. My Boy and I met unexpectedly, in random circumstances, at a fortuitous time. It's cliché I know, but I do believe everything occurs for a reason. I don't much believe in coincidence. Being in a long-distance relationship has been a real challenge at times, has brought me to tears, has been difficult and frustrating (I've made that sound terrible! Haha), but I don't regret it. Despite the difficulties, we have many more reasons to stick at it. I will avoid getting all soppy here! All I will say is that I am so thankful I met that man.

I could carry on this list of thanks for a while longer, but I wouldn't want a blog post so long that it had you feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude when it was finally over. :o) In any situation, there is always something to be thankful for, huh?

To all my American buddies...Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

Little Things

Today was a tough day in some respects. Work has me on a low again. On days like this you have to cling to whatever you can to get through it. Sometimes it's the little things that make all the difference. These are the things that got me through the day:

- Getting a heart put in the froth of my hot chocolate
- Payday pizza for lunch (me and my workmates order in pizza every payday as a treat)
- Trying apple Lucozade for the first time (dirty, I know, but it was a treat)
- Winter sunshine (it's freezing at the mo, but I can take the cold as long as the sun is shining)
- Big jumpers (it's never usually cold enough here to wear them, but it is this year)
- Friends who give big hugs (a big hug never fails to make me feel better)
- Moral support by email (virtual hugs at the touch of a button)
- Meeting at Starbucks for a quick chat (sometimes all you need is an hour to talk things over and you're ready to face the world again)
- Seeing my Dad (always nice to see him, but also good for me to remember that other people have problems too, lol)
- Catching up with the Mrs. (never too busy for a nice long phone chat)
- Tea and chocolate digestives (a classic comfort pick-me-up)

Sometimes, the little things make all the difference.

When I left work, I was going to meet my friend for a quick drink before going to visit my Dad. So I checked my phone to give my friend a quick call. I had a text from my work colleague who had left work a little earlier than me. The text said: "There is a ladies shoe by the tube station entrance. How can you not know you've lost your shoe??" I texted her back, having a chuckle to myself at the utter randomness of such a necessary item discarded like that. I started to text my other friend and carried on walking as I did so, rummaging in my bag and therefore not really looking where I was going. As I walked, I felt something soft beneath my feet. Before you jump to conclusions, it felt like some sort of material. My foot got hooked on it and I tripped up a little. Since I carry my scarf and my gloves in my bag when I'm not wearing them, my first thought was that I had dropped one of them during my over-enthusiastic rummaging. Although I was still on campus, the street lights were fairly dim and as I looked down at my feet to identify the tripper-upper, I had to bend slightly to get a closer look. Imagine my confusion and horror as my closer inspection revealed the offending article to be...pants. No, not my scarf, or a wayward glove, but pants! Men's pants! No, my American friends, not trousers. Undergarments! I was unable to withold my disgust and let out an audible "Ugggghhhh!!!" I had tripped over street pants! Why were they there? Had they been used? My foot felt violated! I had been curious as to how someone could lose a shoe without noticing, but pants?

Sometimes, the little things make all the difference.

Winter

The leaves have curled and fallen;
The trees have closed for winter.
Low rays of sun strain through the frosty haze.
The cold anaesthetises all feeling, until upon exhalation
Visible breath reminds me I am alive.
A blanket of white covers a multitude of sins:
The dingiest city street transformed into a greetings card scene;
A million tiny particles unite as a quilt, to keep the city warm.
Each flake of snow exists in its own space and time,
Never seen before, never to come again.
A crystal for each life on earth, every one unique.
Bare branches silhouette against the sky's pale blue,
Like hands stretching towards the heavens,
Clasping at clouds and teasing out snow,
Until their covering returns.
As the nights draw closer, so we too adhere,
Drawing in for warmth of form and feeling.
The icy frost crunches beneath our feet,
While snowflakes softly bless our crowns,
A gentle kiss with each soft touch.
The cycle of time provokes our retrospect,
Yet hints at what is yet to come:
All has slowed and sleeps until the year awakes with renewed hope.
From this frozen framework growth will spring,
Just like the eponymous season.

No Good Advice

I need to prefix this post by saying that I'm no Dr. Phil. I'm no Jeremy Kyle, either (haha, if I were, I probably wouldn't have any friends and this post would be unnecessary, but I digress...). I'm not completely inept at being there for my friends, i.e. listening, giving hugs at appropriate moments, talking things through, asking questions, trying to offer suggestions for solutions, attempting to give an objective opinion or just saying "what an IDIOT!" or "you're completely right," as and when necessary.

However, of late, my 'good advice' radar seems to have been on the blink. After talking to the Mrs. about overcoming some fears, I decided to use the ol' reverse psychology trick. I only did this because I know how inexplicably well it seems to work on me. Even when someone actually says, "I'm telling you to do this because I know you'll do the opposite," it still works. I have a simple brain. Anyway, "That'll work," I thought, "I'll tell her that she shouldn't do it. Then she most certainly will do it. This plan is faultless!" Um, yeah. Not quite. Instead, she agreed with my faux advice and decided I was right. Damn. Backfired! Abort! Abort the mission! Missed target #1.

Somehow, between the advice and the event, she went ahead with it. It was a disaster. We caught up by text message the next day. I kept asking questions to figure out what had happened. I made my own conclusions about what had gone wrong and told her what I thought would be the best course of action. We exchanged several texts, with me bombarding her with all my best ideas on how to move the situation forward. Then it suddenly occurred to me, I hadn't even asked her how she felt. I had completely bypassed the glaringly obvious question of "What do you want to do about this? How do YOU feel?" Unbeknownst to me, she didn't even want to move the situation forward. She was reading my texts thinking, "Thanks for for the advice, but....what?" Slow on the uptake, after sending probably my sixth irrelevant advice-laden text, I realised my mistake and messaged, "Hang on, how do you actually feel about this???" She called me and laughed at my delayed realisation. Erm...missed target #2.

So in conclusion, I've decided to put my advice-giving on hold until I actually know what I'm talking about. We now have a running joke about me giving crap advice and ill-advised reverse psychology. We joked about me having missed a career direction as a counsellor, or that perhaps I should have been a hostage negotiator, or one of those specialist police officers that talks people down from buildings:

Them: "There's nothing to live for any more! I'm going to jump!"
Me: "Yeah, you're probably right. I think you should do it."
Them: [Jumping] "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Me: "I was just reverse-psychologising you! Did it work? Oh. Too late."

Maybe a career change is in order. You too can have a friend like me! Leave your predicaments or requests for counsel in the comments box. Can I go back to bed now please?

The Week in Review #2

It seems I never have quite enough time to write in the week, but I seem to get a quiet moment on a Friday to at least look at the week in retrospect. The days and weeks are blurring into one long mass of quickly-passing time, so I've found it quite useful to take stock on a regular basis and check my progress. My mind state has really changed in seven days. The week has passed so quickly that it seems like an age since writing this time last week. So, what happened this week?

1. I saw the English Pastor we knew when I was little. He baptised and married my Big Sis, but lives in Cyprus now. To me, he sums up everything I think a good minister should be - genuinely caring about people, personable, knowledgeable, spiritually and Biblically grounded, open-minded, humble, never too busy to have a quick chat, asks 'how are you?' and really wants to know the answer, a good hugger...I could go on. Sometimes I don't like seeing people who have known me since I was a child, because there's almost more pressure for you to have grown 'into' somebody, to have achieved great things. But it was lovely to see him. He said he was very proud of Big Sis and me. When we asked why, I got a little choked when he said, "You're good people."

2. I went to a seminar on Small Groups ministry, led by the aforementioned Pastor. It was really interesting and inspiring. In the past five years I have moved away from big churches and have been really blessed by attending small church groups, where you can really get to know other people and get involved. It has been a crucible at times; I have been challenged for sure. But I think I have grown spiritually as a result. It's encouraging to know that the apostles met in houses, not in 500-strong congregations. I learnt a lot and hope to put the ideas into practice over the coming year.

3. I got my hair cut by my Mum (yes, mums have scissors). It is a good few inches shorter than before. It wouldn't be so bad if I could tie it in a ponytail without a big bit right by my ear falling down all the time because it doesn't quite reach the hairband. But it was free. It was a free haircut and not as bad as I am making out. I generally think I'm not that vain, but things like this make me wonder otherwise...

4. I made a decision to end my long-distance relationship. I knew it would be difficult, but I thought it would be best for several reasons, including for my own slightly turbulent mindstate. My decision was mainly about the circumstances of our relationship, not the affection. I had many reasons for it and talked them over with my confidants. We hadn't been in touch for a week and my mind was set. But then I got on the phone to him and realised how strong my feelings for him are. My throat choked. He was in shock. He couldn't cope with the information. He sensed something different in my voice that said I didn't want to talk about it, my mind was made up. He didn't want this to end. He needed to think on what I had said. The conversation ended with a "to be continued." I felt miserable. Suddenly, my concrete decision was crumbling like century-old plaster. Did I seriously want to do this? I honestly wasn't sure any more.

Next day, we talk again. He understands. He accepts the reasons I had given for my unhappiness as completely valid. He knows things have to change. He wants them to change. He will respect my decision if I am still set, but senses I am not. He will give me some time if that is what I need. But we talk about things and after some discussion, he decides he is coming to see me. Unless I really don't want him to, of course. But I do, there is no question. My reaction tells me that I don't want to give up on this just yet.

5. My Dad was admitted to hospital for a second hip replacement. He had been scheduled to have it last month, but on the day of the operation, his blood pressure was too high. The anaesthetist didn't want to take any unnecessary risks and so it was postponed. Last time he was admitted, Bigger Sis was on holiday with friends in Washington D.C. I know she felt anxious, not being there. This time around, she was there. Me, Mum, Bigger Sis, Big Sis and Bro-in-Law were all there with him as he got settled in to his private room. Yes, a room on a ward for just one patient, with his own toilet, no less! On the NHS! Things have definitely improved over the past 10 years. Labour can take credit for that one, I suppose. :o)

It has been getting noticeably colder of late. The radiator in the room was on full blast and since we were all dressed for the outdoors, we were sweltering. Dad decided to change into something more comfortable. He took his shirt off and had a vest on underneath. It was a little weird at first because we were all standing around in this room, that was relatively small for six people to be standing in, and so we were just stood there awkwardly, watching him. As he started to take his vest off, we simultaneously started humming stripper music. Dad started doing a little dance and swung his vest around his head a few times. We all fell about laughing. I love my family. It doesn't matter what the situation is, we always seem to find something silly to laugh at.

The operation was successful, by the way. He'll be out and galloping about with his stubborn self, real soon. :o)

6. I went to the Doctor for the results of my blood test. I am iron-deficient again. This might be why I am feeling tired, but now I don't know if I'm just noticing the tiredness because I've been told about it. I almost wish I hadn't been told. Now I have an excuse for being lazy.

7. I tried to help the Mrs. get over a little fear she has. I realised that fear is endemic. It made me think that at some time or another, we all miss out on little life experiences and even joys because of fear. Sometimes we pretend we have a fear of failure, when really, failure is a comfort zone and we are actually afraid that we might succeed. What would we do then, in such uncharted territory?! We might actually find happiness(!)

We all have that instinctive 'fight or flight' mechanism when adrenaline kicks in, in response to a challenging situation. I wonder if we all fall into one of these personality categories: a 'fight' or 'flight' person? Some of us will meet any situation that remotely threatens us by coming out, all guns blazing. Some of us will react to any such situation by getting out of there as quickly as possible. However, sometimes we have to act contrary to type, if we want to get anywhere. We will meet a challenge that requires us to face it head-on, rather than run in the other direction, as much as we desperately want to. Or we may be put into a corner and will want to confront the situation and push our way out of there, when we really need to back down and even retreat completely. It may be difficult, it may go against our instinctive reaction, it may be damn well near impossible, but it is the only way to grow.

So, lots of lessons learned this week. A few tears shed, many smiles and sighs shared, and prayers answered.

We're getting closer to December. Good gracious. November, where did you go?

Friday Fill-In #9

1. The last band I saw live was so long ago, I don't even remember! I think I saw Dwele at The Jazz Cafe. Actually, my bad. I saw my workmate Daryl's band The Morning Side, with a few other new bands at The 100 Club. They have since got a record deal!
2. What I look forward to most on Thanksgiving is one day celebrating it with my 'American Boy' (as Estelle would say).
3. My Christmas/holiday shopping is going to be rather low budget this year. But after being inspired by a few blogs on thoughtful gifts, I'm going to try and make an effort to be creative.
4. Thoughts of January and an important date tentatively pencilled into the diary fill my head.
5. I wish I could wear this really nice jumper dress I have (dark teal green, 100% merino wool, slash neckline - a little bit 80s but it's warm and I like it!), but it's relatively fitted and above the knee and I'm not brave enough!
6. Bagpipes were made of animal skin that you blow into with pipes. Which begs the question, who first thought to do that...and more importantly, why?!
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to visiting my Dad in the hospital and enjoying the end of the week, tomorrow my plans include church in the morning and then visiting Dad for a little singsong (if they'll let us; I've never been forcibly removed from a hospital before, but there's always a first time...) and Sunday, I want to sort out my bills and budget in time for payday on Monday!

Feeling the Cold...

Most honest admission of the week, overheard:

"Now, I don't normally feel the cold, because I'm fat, but...."

It was a man, which probably isn't that surprising. But amusingly honest, nonetheless. This weekend is meant to be much colder than the rest of the week. Good job I've been working on some fat reserves of my own...

Mums With Scissors

I had my hair cut today. By my Mum. Eek. It's much shorter than I had probably wanted. It's invariably my own fault. It was probably a mistake. I can only blame this on my fragile state of mind and should probably not be trusted to make such decisions at the moment. I won't be admitting this to my Mum. She's the one holding the scissors. :o)

MisConception

She is granite.
Be strong, don't cry, pull yourself together!
I am too soft.
My shell is somewhat tough, but the inside melts like butter on toast.
Am I a disappointment? I was made in the image.
I am a sketch, an interpretation, an artist's impression, perhaps?
Not a carbon copy.
I can be hard. My skin can be thick...sometimes.
I grit my teeth and dig in my heels. I will not be moved.
But that's a given; we all have this. All of us, both sides: some whole, some half, all related.
We are all here, not moving. Hmm.
I am not a girly girl. I don't need help. I am not dependent. I am not afraid.
Sticks and stones...
The words don't hurt. I'm cool. I can shake it off, just like you told me.
I am trying to emulate. My hero.
What's that, you say? You are scared? That's funny. I'm sorry, what? You weren't kidding?
I don't believe you. Fearless one. Headstrong, determined. Small but terrible.
She says, I am good at hiding it.
The exterior? Hardwearing. The interior? Worn.
Perhaps you are not made of stone. Volcano-like, your passions burn within intensely, the molten rock frequently errupting. Sometimes it burns, sometimes it makes things new.
The outside remains set fast, but inside exists hot liquid gold.
I'm not sure how I feel. Surprised? Relieved.
I can be soft, there is no shame. Inside we are more alike than I knew.

The Week in Review #1

It has been an odd sort of week. It was uneventful in some ways, but emotionally, there were some noteworthy moments. At times I felt like I was trying to run underwater, or in a crowd of people on mute, but it seemed to speed by. It wasn't necessarily a good or bad week, but I think I made some progress. No-one said growth would be painless. I am thankful I made it to the other end.

In summary, this week:

1. I had a sleepover with a good friend and spent 19 hours out of 24 talking (and eating, and watching a bit of tele, but mostly talking)!
2. I had some very helpful and encouraging conversations with the Mrs. (my best friend of 10+ years), as she told me some home truths, helped me figure out some things by being an excellent soundboard, gave good advice and played the reverse-psychology card, which (to my annoyance, ha) works on me every time.
   
3. I faced two minor fears: having a blood test and returning to work, after a week on leave.
4. I came clean to my boss about a problem I've been having at work and found that she was
   i.) more understanding that I could ever have expected;
   ii) was empathetic from her own similar first-hand experience;
   and
   iii) had lots of practical suggestions to make things better.
5. I removed a presence from my life that I finally recognised was causing me discontent. It was a little difficult, but it was liberating.
6. I temporarily removed myself from a situation that I needed space away from, in order to gain some clarity on how I feel about it and whether my separation from it should be permanent.
7. I spoke to a counsellor for the first time ever.
8. I caught up with a friend after months of very little contact, and found that
   i) we could pick up right where we left off;
   ii) she had been experiencing very similar feelings to me, which was encouraging
   and
   iii) we still get each other.
9. I cried, winced and felt my heart break and blood boil, as I watched an incredible Channel 4 documentary by Dispatches: Saving Africa's Witch Children. It followed the work of the charity Stepping Stones Nigeria, and its programme director, Englishman Gary Foxcroft, as they rescued and took care of children who have been tortured, abused and abandoned as a consequence of being branded 'witches' by purporters of a mix between extreme superstition and twisted evangelical 'Christianity'.
   
10. I had dinner with Bigger Sis, during which
    i) we had a lovely catch-up;
    ii) I unexpectedly received some pretty gifts;
    iii) we spoke to a very sweet and very beautiful Turkish waitress with the most amazing eyelashes;
    iv) I ate the best caprese salad, mushroom pizza with fresh rocket on top and tiramisu I have had in months
    and
    v) we spoke the evening away, so that I missed the last train and had to night bus-it home!
    
11. I was thankful to God for answering the prayers of my family, in helping us with a challenging situation we were worried about.
12. I was disappointed when someone's behaviour didn't live up to what I was intensely hoping for.
13. I was overwhelmed and encouraged by the admission of someone whom I love, admire and respect, who is known for their strength of character and fierce determination, that deep down they are a nervous wreck with real fears, who is simply very good at hiding it. A revelation to me!
    

Seeing it like that, perhaps it was eventful after all. Where did the week go???

Friday Fill-In #8

1. Please feel free to laugh out loud. I do, often. :o)
2. When I take laundry out of the washing machine I can't help sniffing it occasionally (or every time, to be honest!).
3. My favorite thing to cook is my tuna pasta sauce, with onion, garlic, tomatoes, loads of black pepper and black olives...it's the one thing I can cook without thinking and have honed it over the years...I'm getting a little hungry thinking about it! Otherwise, I'd quite like to get into baking...
4. A great big hug and good good food is something I can't get enough of.
5. That's the thing I love most about meeting up with my sis (like I did last night) - a big hug and great food is always guaranteed!
6. When people are ignorant or have bad manners (which often goes hand-in-hand), it always makes me think to myself, what the heck?
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to the pie and mash I'm about to tuck into (how English do I sound? Ha!), tomorrow my plans include relaxing with the fam and spending time with the Creator, and Sunday, I want to find my stupid card reader that has disappeared for several weeks in the black hole that is otherwise known as my bedroom!

Collateral Damage

This was never about you,
You just got caught up in the mess;
A civilian caught in the crossfire,
You should have been under house arrest.
Now you're a victim of this war
And I'm the one to blame;
Why didn't you stay where you were,
Then things would be the same?

I knew there'd be some casualties
It is to be expected,
But regrettably, in reality
It's worse than I projected.
To be hit by so-called friendly fire
When you weren't really involved,
Somehow makes the damage higher
And has shaken my resolve.

If I had known the wreckage wrought,
Before embarking on this fight,
I would have stopped before I fought
And tried to make things right.
Any soldier can see the need
For damage limitation;
Now to defeat I will concede
By way of compensation.

Full of regret at this outcome,
Despite tries to disperse the tension;
This calamity would be undone
Without your intervention.
The rescue mission has been revoked,
I've lost what I was fighting for;
We should have retreated when provoked -
I've lost the battle, along with the war.

In Rememberance

Today was Armistice Day, this year marking ninety years since the end of the First World War, at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. I have a great respect for the men of this generation, those who saw unimaginable conflict. Regardless of one's views on war and the validity and necessity of the two world wars, I am compelled to remember those who lost their lives defending fulfilling what they could only perceive as their duty.

The red poppy symbol is extremely poignant to me. This flower, a common weed in Europe, grew prolifically in Flanders Fields, the battlegrounds of Belgium and France where significant battles of WWI were fought. The intensive shelling of the conflict had naturally caused great disruption to the ground. The poppy was one of the only plants to grow on the battlefield for precisely this reason, because it thrives in disturbed soil. The symbolism of this, that life, beauty and hope can thrive even in the most turbulent of circumstances, is something I find very moving. The fields that were coloured red from the mass of poppies in bloom would also come to be stained red from the blood of the casualties of the battles fought on those very fields.

I am full of admiration for the men who saw such sights first hand and lived to tell the tale. Those still alive to this day are now a very small group indeed. Harry Patch (born 17 June 1898) is a man of many titles. He is 110, making him Britain's second oldest living man. He is the last surviving British soldier to have faced action in the trenches of the Western Front, and is the one of only three surviving veterans of the First World War still living in the UK.

Mr Patch didn't speak publicly about his war experiences until he was 100. In 2003, he took part in a television series called World War I in Colour, in which he recalled coming face to face with a German soldier. Remembering the commandment 'Thou shall not kill", he was unable to kill the German, rather shooting him in the leg to bring him down. Ten years after first speaking in public about his experiences, he is now partially deaf, but was interviewed by Falklands veteran Simon Weston on ITV news as part of the lead-up to Remembrance Sunday. When asked if he thought WWI had been worth the lives that were lost, he answered, "No it wasn't. Not worth one". His remaining plea was that we "remember the Germans, as well as our own."

Right: Henry Allingham (112), Harry Patch (110) and Bill Stone (108), represented the RAF, Army and Royal Navy respectively at a ceremony at London's Cenotaph.

Stuart Bennett, a navy pilot in WWII, attended an Armistice Day memorial in his home town of Croydon. His own grandfather had been injured in combat during the First World War. As he paid tribute to the 'glorious dead' of both world wars, he declared, "They gave their tomorrow for our today."

Remembering and honoring those who have perished amidst conflict this country was engaged in, whether or not those individuals believed in its validity, doesn't mean I take gratification from the losses of the opposing forces. I can express gratitude for the sacrifices of British soldiers, while mourning the loss of German civilians. I can feel sympathy for the families of soldiers killed in Iraq, which doesn't diminish my sadness at the casualties of Iraqi citizens. I take no glory in the wars of the past. But I am grateful for the positive ways they may very well have shaped my future.

Friday Fill-In #7

1. My blueprint for success includes relying on the Creator and asking Him for wisdom. I've realised that I'm pretty useless on my own!
2. A Wispa was the last candy I ate.
3. The best facial moisturizer I've ever used is nothing special. I don't think I've found the perfect one for me yet; I have to use different ones at different times of the year.
4.Talking about it can be good therapy (it's obvious, I know, but I'm slow on the uptake sometimes).
5. I'd like to tell you about my week, but I might save that for another post.
6. I'm told that my talkativeness is my strongest characteristic (I deny this emphatically, haha).
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to the dinner I'm about to eat (haven't eaten since breakfast!), tomorrow my plans include attending our friends' baby dedication (so excited!) and having a fun evening with Lisa and Sunday, I want to finish what I started in the week by finally sorting out my clothes, putting some stuff for sale on eBay and writing some to-do lists!

Space

There is a chasm opening up;
We are on opposite sides.
Instead of clinging on
I am pushing back to survive.
It follows no logic I know,
When I need to get nearer,
To move further away
So that I can see clearer.

I'm still unable to just say,
Although I thought I had made progress;
I choke and my feelings aren't conveyed;
I wait in hope that you will protest.
I dance around and act the fool
To see if you make mention;
Pretend I don't care and play it cool,
Though I'm craving your attention.

It doesn't matter how I play,
You are better than these games;
I'm the one living a cliche,
Knowing this makes me ashamed.
Even though you said I'm not alone,
I feel so very lonely;
I want to find my way back home,
But home is with you, only.

I Slept Through It

Yeah. I think I'm going to bed now.

Change You Can Believe In

During the BBC's early election coverage this evening, a journalist for The Independent suggested that there would have been no Barack Obama without George W. Bush. To clarify, his argument was that the Bush administration has been so detrimental to the USA that it has helped facilitate Obama's route towards the White House. It is true that in response to the damage Bush Junior has caused, there seems to be a very real desire for change and indeed, bringing about such change has been Obama's recurring campaign theme. I'm not claiming to know enough about the politics to be able to expand on this argument in detail. But perhaps if George W. Bush had not been so disliked a president, if Americans had not become so disillusioned, if Bush had not proved to be so incompetent in so many ways, there would not have been such a profound desire for a leader who was the antithesis of this. If the media is to be believed, there certainly seems to have been a greater interest of Joe Public in the presidential campaign and consequently with making the effort to actually vote. Apparently, the turn-out of voters is much increased in many states, particularly with young people and those from non-white backgrounds. I do not believe that Obama's popularity is solely the result of a rejection of Bush. However, perhaps there would not have been the same motivation for change, if the situation hadn't warranted it so much.

I think it's an interesting point that sometimes things have to get to rock-bottom in order to force a person into action. Perhaps it is true of many things, not just this particular political situation. Without the hugely detrimental aspects of life, one might be content to sit back and let things happen, to wallow in the sleepy haze of apathy, while life passes by, unobtrusive and uneventful. We shouldn't need to wait for the bad in order to appreciate the good, and even less so to actually identify and acknowledge the good. But sometimes, when lulled into a false sense of security, one fails to see the decisions made that are leading towards disaster. Sadly, one often needs to see one's own ill-made plans brought to fruition, in order to realise the consequences of them. Only then can the mistakes be acknowledged and rectified and action be taken to avoid the mistakes being repeated. Sometimes, as with Bush's re-election, one needs a second chance to learn that lesson and get things right. In any case, recognising the need for change and making that first step towards achieving it, is exactly that: a first step. A great start does not guarantee a great finish, or even a good journey. Perpetual effort is necessary in order to maintain what one has started.

If Obama is announced tomorrow as America's first black president, I hope he lives up to the change he has claimed America (and indeed the rest of the world) 'can believe in'. But more than that, I hope that all those who were motivated to vote by the desire for such change will not lose that motivation, but will seek to make the small changes within their power - in their own lives, homes, families and communities - to be the change they so desperately want to see, whatever the result of the election.

How Deep The Father's Love For Us

The lyrics of this modern hymn by Stuart Townend have really hit home for me today. It has been a tough week and these words broke down the barriers I had built up around my heart and mind in an attempt to survive on my own. My Bible study this week centred on the fact that God revealed his plan of salvation from the very moment sin entered the world. There was always provision to save us, this fallen human race of ours. That provision was in the shape of our Father's beloved Son, who created us. The central Scriptural reference was Isaiah 53, which "presents Christ as the Lamb of God. Those who are lifted up with pride, whose souls are filled with vanity, should look upon this picture of their Redeemer, and humble themselves in the dust. The entire chapter should be committed to memory. Its influence will subdue and humble the soul defiled by sin and uplifted by self-exaltation."1 None of us deserve what God has done for us, but yet He still did it. I am truly humbled. Thank you, Lord.

How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure,
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of searing loss -
The Father turns His face away,
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory.

Behold the man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders;
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished;
His dying breath has brought me life -
I know that it is finished.

I will not boast in anything,
No gifts, no power, no wisdom;
But I will boast in Jesus Christ,
His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer;
But this I know with all my heart -
His wounds have paid my ransom.

Stuart Townend.
Copyright © 1995 Thankyou Music

1 Ellen G. White Comments, The SDA Bible Commentary, vol. 4, p. 1147