The emergency doctors - again.

More than a nightmare. Now. 

Not my baby girl. She's just turned 17. We took photos of her and her twins opening their L plates. Now we sit in the emergency dr at almost midnight as she struggles to swallow. 

That frown. Oh I remember those painful swallows which accompany the frown from the times I was a child laid up. Around 5 times a year I missed school with tonsillitis. Of course they bashed up my intestines with copious amounts of antibiotics. My crohns did not like that much. 

Her heart beats in the side of her neck. Visibly. She's hot. Then gets goosebumps on her face. Taking her pulse through her wrist I can feel it's way too fast. Blood pressure machine on. Low BP heart rate 149 BMP. Too fast for me to get comfortable with. 

The iPhone Flashlight illuminates a swollen throat. No gaps. No spaces. Just white stuff. 

Awake for much of the night last night I began to research my studies. The stuff I am missing during my university absence.  Health issues all around me, I do begin to wonder what my future career will hold.  
Taking care of my family is my number one priority,  which goes without saying.  Yet how can I juggle everything else that goes along with my busy, busy life. 

Do I enjoy the chaos of doing too much?  Probably.  

To the detriment of my health? Maybe.  

Something I know is I want to make a difference.  Make people feel better.  Including myself.  We all deserve this life of feeling better, being well, being happy; smiling.

That night at the emergency doctors we were blessed.  An amazing GP who cared, praised my daughter for being brave, recognising how ill she is and also taking this illness so seriously she felt my girl needed the hospital.  39.9 degrees temperature.  Racing heart.  She needed medication and now. Which is exactly what the Dr did.  As we waited in the waiting room for 15 minutes to see if 1. her temperature dropped and 2. if she reacted enough to not need the hospital, I thought back to writing this blog.

How I adore writing this blog.   Wishing I could be more creative,  I think on to time.  The family needing me, the stack of university work backing up.  How do I write my essay when Jeremy Kyle plays on in the background and Mum gives me a running commentary?  Oh if only I was that person in my 20s who was a night owl.  These days I can't get much past 11pm before my eyes simply close all by themselves with no command from the brain it seems. Instead here I sit at 5am on Saturday morning typing quietly from my new bed, the sofa, brain dumping conscientiously enough to hope someone can relate to my muse.  A mother perhaps? A Carer? Someone else who has an illness and is trying to be a carer?  My heart goes out to you all.  Our struggles are the things that make us proud every once in a while, pat ourselves on the back and feel like we are making a difference in life.  Even something so simple as making a sandwich can put a smile on someones face.  

So here I am wondering about my future.  I never envisaged I would be a full time carer.  Yet loving people is my strength.  Will I be that full time carer? Will I be the person who helps others with their health online?  Would the girl I used to be want this or would she want the status of having a job description? 

Life still leaves me wondering at this age.  
As a child, you think grown ups know everything.  Yet the twists, turns and meandering of life events means we can't possibly know everything.  So, one step at a time we flow downstream, taking on the challenges that meet us along the way.  Just for today, i will take one step at a time.  

Wishing you all much love

Louise xoxo

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.

What am I doing to my family with my anxiety?

Thoughts.

They drive me bananas.  I can't help it despite my very best efforts to try.  The law of attraction has me wondering.  How can I know what I know about the vibrational energy, have anxious thoughts and be left with terrible things happening to my loved ones?

This time 17 years ago I was being induced and bringing two beautiful new souls into the world.  This time last year I had just heard devastating news about my lovely Dad, just one floor below the joyous maternity unit.  Then fast forward to today and here I have sat all week at the bedside of my lovely Mum in intensive care.  Bless her.  She has pretty big heart issues and I'm not sure what God was thinking when he dealt just the one heart...
Maybe after losing Dad and my brother at the age of 31, I can't help thinking the worst but I really feel I need to stop these thoughts.  
Am I manifesting?

No.  In a word you cannot manifest stuff that isn't meant to happen.  While we know what The Secret says,  there are bigger forces guiding us in directions we are supposed to travel.  

Quit the worry and the anxiety.  Try and find something good in every day.  My good part of the day was holding mums hand.  The bruises changing colour every day following her angioplasty, her wrinkled skin showing the folds for every year she washed up without marigolds. Her wisdom escaping her as she makes up new stories and creates confusion with her symptoms among staff.  
"Oh Margaret I do love your spirit." Smiles the genius nurse as she delivers the commode with a courtesy. "Here is the throne ma'am." As if mum was the Queen. 

Returning with a fresh jug of cold water for mum to drink, the nurse thanks me with honest gratitude for helping.  Well, that's my mum.  I should take care of her.  I should help her.  I must help her.  Please God let her come home.  Please God don't take her on my twins birthday.  Please God grant me the patience to take care of her, the strength to do so and the practical fluff that goes with caring for someone.
Do I work?  Do I quit?  Does the universe wish for me to write full time and create my Youtube full time?  
University has been skipped right when we are learning all about Mucosal immunity.  Perfect for my subject of choice, Crohns and stuff...I could do some online, I could read at the bedside.  Days roll into one as the bedside gets so busy.  Doctor comes around with the always-unused stethoscope, draped around his neck, floating with the keen registrars in his shadow.  Beautiful English accent with hair needing shampooing,  he floats in and floats out like the genius he is.

Chatting in the relatives room there is an air of sadness.  The reality of the circle of life hits home.  Will our loved ones pull through?  How do we live without them?  Comforting a man with red eyes just by asking how he is gives me a sense of helping while words escape me.  There are no words. I tell him, "I have no words, yet I do feel your pain."
Thank God my Scott seems over his panic with his myocarditis.  

All I can do here and now is give my mum the laughs she so loves,  moisturise her and get a flannel to wash and all these other things that come with such hopeless practicalities.  

Deep breath;  meditate.

Louise xoxo

Shopping for a Huf House (Dream home!)

A rare day off for my other half saw us head off for coffee and cake.  Delicious indeed.  My favourite place to head for coffee and cake - despite the ice and snow still laying hard on the ground.  
Scott took his Landrover for safe keeping and I headed through the farm shop and into the gorgeous barn, hoping my favourite cake was on offer.

To my delight, the lemon pistachio gluten free cake was on the menu.  Delightful indeed.

Following this fantastic start to the day, I suggested we go look at the 'local' (one hour drive away) Huf House show home.  This story goes like this:

Many reasons have brought me to a place over the years of hoping/wishing/dreaming/needing to spend time in the countryside and write.  You know about me and my writing now.  Right?  Well, back in 2009 I spent the first time ever of my life in the most amazing house in the highlands of Scotland in Aviemore.  There was an air of a new feeling.  Peace.  Tranquillity.  

The only way I can explain it is I felt like I remembered I was a human again.

Scotland 2009

* Time to cook
* eat healthily
* breathe amazing air
* look at nature.  

The trees,  those badgers who frequented our garden every evening for a treat of peanut butter.  Bird tables a-plenty with an abundance of nuts and seeds for our feathered friends to enjoy.  I loved it.  
Inside my body, something new happened.  Something which made me realise I would be more healthy and able to deal with my crohns issues in the countryside.

Right before having the twins, I lived in the countryside.  Having to leave broke my heart.  Loving it there, I definitely left a part of my heart there.  Yet there was no chance to stay as I knew no-one there and having twins created an insistence that I come back to family and civilisation.  There's a whole story coming up about that. 

Since Wales, in the new year, Scott and I decided that we definitely need a bolt hole.  Somewhere to go to escape.  My writing heaven. Amongst trees,  with birdsong around, ideally some water nearby...


Massive fans of watching Grand Designs,  we went to look at the possibility of building an amazing home somewhere we chose.  We love the idea of the scandanavian homes which come in kit form.  Super indeed.

Lord and Master

Off we headed to fall in love with the 'too big for us' Huf House.  Priced at way over our budget, we have now decided to do some more research into Scandia-Hus who seem more realistically priced (and we love them anyway).  Off to the Build it show in a couple of weeks and I promise to keep you posted on this.

Scott has given himself 3 years of research so nothing will  happen imminently but we hope to create a place of beauty to spend time in later in life. Somewhere which will assist with its natural tendencies with healing my health.  

A place filled with love. 

Louise xoxo

One poorly shihtzu

Harley is feeling sorry for himself.  

Last night he was in a lot of pain with a closed eye. I'm guessing something like conjuctivitis bless him.

Already, I was watching the weather last night and hoping for a snow day today. I just fancied some time at my desk, writing and catching up with housework stuff.  My bedroom was stuffed full of Christmas things that remained without a place in my home - driving me crazy.  Like a trojan horse I began working hard this morning when the roads were way too icy for me to attempt to go out and the other reason for wanting to stay home was to take care of my poorly dog.

Tonight, Harley seems very relaxed and I hope his eye is better.  I have no idea how to treat a dog with an eye issue but I bathed with cotton wool in cooled, boiled water then gently smeared some coconut oil over too.  Which of course has antibacterial properties.

My gorgeous Shihtzu is fast asleep now and I hope he feels a little better, at least a lot of love.  Hoping so as Scott has a rare day off tomorrow (which the announcement of made me cry!) and it would be so lovely to see the roads clear and to go out with Scott and Harley.

Meanwhile my bed calls me for a great nights sleep.

Much love

Louise xoxo