Saturday, 4 March 2017

How lost I feel when words fail me...

Losing count of how many times I have attempted to pick up my laptop recently, I wonder how to start...

Words never fail me.  Never do I suffer writers block.  Something inside me feels lost.  

What is going on?

Head lost.  New directions looming.  Challenges all around.  Sad people surround me as I do my best to lift them up.   

Yet all this time I am not writing.  Which you know is my passion.  

A firm believer in life taking twists and turns and taking you places you may not have thought about going, I do wonder how this is unfolding. 

Life and the law of attraction has been giving me the most massive signals for quite some time - do this, don't do that - and I have listened but not instantly.  I hear them but don't always act.  To leave devastating consequences with bigger messages.

Looking after my family is obviously  a massive thing right now.  Mum is still very poorly and doesn't think she will be heading home anytime soon.  Which is sad but lovely to have her.  This leaves me with a big question mark over my future.  



Tiny percentages of clients are overly demanding, not showing the big hearted care I would indeed show them at a time like this.  University is hotting up as we head towards the end of the second term of the second year.  We need to be there a lot. Still I love it.  My passion.  I get excited at the thought of going into university and soaking up like a sponge. Education.  Helping others.  Health.  I love it all.

Arriving home with nothing but exhaustion is the only explanation I can find for my lack of words.  
Still, I want to write.  Still I write mentally in my head.  Still there are those mental battles of which piece of writing comes next.  

Yet switching on the computer and getting those fingers effortlessly flying across the keyboard in the usual fashion seems near on impossible.

So what is the answer?

Last night, I wasn't ready to sleep.  Yet neither did I want to 'get into' the TV.  
Youtube called my name as I searched on the phone, "Full time blogger."  Hoping for inspiration, I was attracted to click on a lady who's name was Sarah.  She began to speak into the camera about her life, her fertility treatment, her twins and her cooking which she takes online to inspire others. Sounded like me! 8 years my junior, I watched my inspiration grow as she realistically told of hard work, late nights and those days when you question what you are doing.  Then she also told of her passion, as I watched her eyes sparkle.  Her time was her own to manage.  She could spend time with her children, get to the school plays,  be sponsored by holiday companies to go away and write and shoot photos.
My eyes began to droop as the familiar feeling of fatigue haunted me into sleep. 

This morning I have awoken refreshed, feeling so much better physically than yesterday.  A blessing indeed.  Coffee made (with soya of course!) I headed to this place. 

My writing desk; my space



Somewhere we set up a week ago to leave mum in peace to watch her daytime TV while I take a communication system to be envied by NASA (A Doorbell which you plug in) and head off to write, to study, to work.
Ok there is a little mess here already, yet my buddha candle, my daylight window and the birds tapping on the cabin roof while singing their early morning birdsong has me singing inside too. 

Just like Sarah, with hard work and determination I can do this. I mustn't lose sight of that. I can make it happen.  Days will be hard but I can get there.  We can all get there. 

Will you?


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Wednesday, 25 January 2017

The promise of 2017 in cardiology

The promise of a new year.  2017.  As the media, the public and the laymen happily rang out 2016 with the wearing of black as we said farewell to the biology of so many talented individuals, we started 2017 with hope.

Everyone being sure 2017 has got to be better than its predecessor. 

My family sighed with relief too as we rang in the new year (me in my nightwear in the middle of a dairy farm in Wales).  Last year was full of worry and tragedy.  Yet we made it through.  Stronger as  a family than ever.  My knowledge of the brain stem, strokes and death far more inscribed in my brain than before as we celebrated the life of my 74 year old father.

We miss him, of course.

With those words of "Mum will live to 100" coming back to haunt me, we rushed her into casualty with a pulse of 45,  stars in her eyes and feeling as though she would lose consciousness at any minute.  
"Heart block" the paramedic had explained.  
The second ECG at hospital showed progession from 1st degree to 2nd degree as they took Mums blood from her bruised vein.  Tropotin was through the roof.  This is an enzyme released by damaged heart cells.  This showed us mum had an MI.  A heart attack.

Her care was fantastic.  Right away, fragmin in her belly, aspirin down her throat and canulas a plenty.  Recussitation trolley all day long gave her a 'bum ache' as she laughed along with the nurses.  This was very serious.  Yet her spirit remained unscathed as I quoted her on Facebook so her friends could see her sense of humour was definitely not harmed.  

A week in intensive care,  a stent in the Right Coronary Artery which was 99% blocked, left one showing a few signs,
echocardiogram showing 'significant damage' to her heart muscle and constant monitoring showing me that she was missing beats.  They called them Blips to Mum.  That was all she needed to know.  I researched and researched and took photos of her trace to send to my contacts in the know.  Turns out their diagnosis via mobile phone was right, Mobitz 2.  

Making the most of Mum,  having her home with us, I was immediately thankful.  Until I realised the sounds of Phil and Holly presenting on This Morning right behind my desk was very distracting.  

Can I cope?  Can I continue my studies, work and look after mum, Scott and the twins?  Of course I can.  I can do anything I put my mind to!

Up against it, yes.  

Not beaten.



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