Butler Wanted…

Wouldn’t this just be fabulous? Simply the fetching & carrying would be a total blessing! I’ve gone with

  • Coffee because, well, coffee
  • Great food because my appetite is horrendous & cooking takes too many spoons (pun intended 😊)
  • Secretarial skills – oh to just dictate blog ideas at random hours, this would be a real treat, I might even get that novel done!
  • Who doesn’t want a psychic provider of heating pads & ice packs?!
  • Massage because, well, massage
  • Invisibility, on demand obviously, so I keep my sense of space

So what do you think I’ve missed? I’m sure there is loads more a spoonie butler could do, let me know what your top skills in a butler would be?

Namaste πŸ™πŸ’™

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Somewhere to Retreat…

Hi there, apologies it’s been so long, between one thing & another I’ve struggled to find find the motivation to blog recently, mostly energy & concentration levels low due to ME, plus RA hitting my hips – you know the drill. But…. I wanted to post something about my most favourite place to be (apart from my sofa), & a tweet certainly wasn’t going to cover it. I suddenly realised I had something I wanted to say, so back to my blog at last!

Where to start? The short version is that my lovely friend Ian (pictured below), the owner of my local bar – The Retreat– celebrated 30 years in business this weekend, which is frankly amazing in today’s economy, & mostly down to the fact that they’ve consistently provided us with excellent food & drink, amazing staff & service & so much fun. Exactly what you want from your local, which coincidentally is 250 years old this year! 😊

I turned eighteen in 1988 which was the year The Retreat opened, and yes, I’ve been using it fairly regularly ever since! I’m still slightly stunned thirty years have actually gone by & I’m not completely sure where they went! I’m still only 27, right? 😁

Anyways… Why I am writing this here? Because particularly since I became chronically ill this place has been a literal as well as metaphorical lifeline for me, and it’s a massively important part of my support network, I’d go stir crazy without it.

It’s somewhere I try & visit two or three times a week depending on how I’m feeling. It’s somewhere that as a lone female & a disabled person I feel completely safe. Better than that, I feel loved. I get table service & have my own personal cappuccino mug 😍

Most of my friend network is based from here, The Retreat has always attracted a wonderfully eclectic crowd of people as regulars & long may this continue. Ian also employs some truly fabulous staff & I love them all dearly, they’re family.

Whether I drop in early lunchtime or later afternoon there is never not someone I can chat to. Sometimes after two or three days in bed you just need human contact, and this place is it for me, it always lifts me.

Because of meds it’s very rare I have alcohol these days, I haven’t drunk “properly” for over three years, but I’m still made totally welcome for my coffees or soft drinks. My wonderful GP is well aware I use the place & often checks in with me on appointments that I’m still getting out at least a couple of times a week – we both know how important that is for my mental health, it’s way too easy to become isolated when disabled.

Any good pub or bar is always a community hub, & The Retreat certainly fills that role beautifully, whether you need help with the crossword or to find a plumber this is definitely the place to be.

So, I absolutely wanted to be present as much as possible this weekend, and I managed both Saturday & Sunday afternoons. Evenings are unfortunately a bit beyond me. But I’ve spent time with some of my favourite people in my favourite place, & that’s what was important to me.

Have I come home and crashed? Horribly. Everything hurts, I’ve barely moved since I got home this afternoon & I’ll probably trade at least a few days for these two afternoons in a row. And you know what? It’s worth every bloody spoon I’ve used, pain included.

Because sometimes life has to be about more than illness & pacing & doctors & tests & meds. Friendships & love are so important, I treasure them & the joy they bring me.

I’ve said before this is my equivalent of the TV bar Cheers, “where everybody knows your name”. So I guess what I really want to say is not only Congratulations Ian, or “I bloody love this bar”, but mostly Thank you, for being my respite, my social life, my Retreat.

The Mercurial Whirlwind..

*Content warning – suicide

On Monday 19th February it was eleven years since my Dad phoned me early one evening to tell me that my younger sister Mary had died. She was 35.

You hear people say things like “I knew it was bad news when the phone rang” but I genuinely went cold on the first ring – I’ve no idea how to explain it, but I swear I somehow knew it was really bad news about Mel.
Unfortunately she had ended her own life. I could speculate for hours (and did initially) on exactly why, but it serves no purpose. The simple truth is that at that moment in time she needed to stop. Undiagnosed depression certainly impacted her actions.
But that was how she ended, it wasn’t who she was. I’m not sure I have the words to capture the mercurial whirlwind that was my little sister. No one else has ever made me laugh (or cry) so hard. She was beautiful, funny, kind, generous, quixotic. She was also stubborn, defensive, argumentative and had a flash temper that raged white hot then just as quickly was gone.

She’d unexpectedly turn that megawatt smile on you and you had no choice but to grin back.

As kids we fought so much, but had each others back, always. I have loads of fabulous memories, good and bad, and that’s how it should be, saintly she wasn’t!

I remember at the time she died being unexpectedly angry with her, simply because we were supposed to grow old together. Losing her was hard, but it was almost as tough dealing with the loss of both past and future memories.

There is no-one else who remembers how to play “mummies, daddies & little darlings”, who knows how you had to step over the second floorboard from the bathroom door because it creaked so loudly, who swears she saw a ghost in our kitchen, who could play connect four for hours, who can remind me how I taught her all the basic swear words after she begged me to! Who was my partner in crime on teenage hair and makeup, and my best friend even when we ‘hated’ each other.

It’s like I lost some of the vibrancy from my past memories when she died, they’re still there, but without her to help me take them out and polish them or argue over them they’ve faded.

Of course we should also already have another eleven years of adult sisterhood to mull over. But she’ll never make a new memory in this life, as much as I carry her with me always.

There’s simply a Mel shaped hole missing from the second half of my life.

So I want to use this post to let anyone who is feeling like they want to stop know they are not alone. You are worthwhile, you are seen, you are loved. This really will pass, so please reach out for support in whatever form feels comfortable. I promise help is out there.

UK & ROI Samaritans – 116 123

USA – Lifeline Chat – 1-800-273-8255.

Australia – Lifeline – 13-11-14

Canada – The Canada Suicide Prevention Service – 1-833-456-4566

Friendship & Chronic LifeΒ 

Previously published through Creaky Joints 

I was mentally restored by spending a few hours with two close friends last night. I’d had a stressful few days health wise which was exacerbated by an “unhelpful” medical appointment, leaving me spinning. I was off kilter, out of sorts, upset, angry, anxious, emotional and irrational. Yes, all in a couple of days! 

By the time I came home from a glass of wine, a lovely meal and most importantly the company of S&S I was feeling calm, centred, strong, rational and buzzing with ideas to resolve my problem. I feel this is the most beautiful thing good friends provide, they love you and fill you with energy. 

To me friendships are the most important and honest relationships we ever have. Family is wonderful when it works, but we all know that you can’t choose your relations! For want of a better word ‘mates’ or companions are fabulous and great for an afternoon of chat but not necessarily for baring your soul. Marriage has its own complications!

Yet making friends is quite a random process really, we meet someone, perhaps initially think they are interesting or kind or share a common ground, and from that somehow evolve into this incredibly trusting symbiosis. 

We aren’t consciously aware of doing so, but we must make a lot of tiny judgements about people who become our friends in the early days of knowing them. The dictionary defines a friend as ‘a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection’ but I feel the word symbiosis comes closer – ‘a mutually beneficial relationship between different people’.

Initially that sounds a little formal, but add in the ‘mutual affection’ of friends and you have a beautiful symbiotic relationship. Yes, it’s about give and take, but of the intangible kind. You don’t look at a stranger and think they’ll be supportive at 3am when the dog is sick, or decide they’d be a great hospital visitor. You can’t tell at first that this person will be the one to make you laugh until you cry when you miss the train or forgot your in laws are coming for dinner. 

Keeping friendships going when you have a chronic condition can be tough, and making new friends can be harder, especially for those of us with a chronic illness but in my book it’s well worth the investment of spoons.
I’m blessed and I know it. I have a few close girlfriends who I adore. I’ve collected them over the years from various places, and they all have one thing in common. 

They didn’t run. They didn’t decide I was too sick or too needy or too boring or unreliable once I became ill. They don’t complain when I cancel last minute, they just reschedule. They post chocolates through my door at random times. They answer messages at night when I haven’t got the energy to chat but need to sense check my thinking about how ill I’m feeling or if I’m a little low. They’ve even cancelled work to sit with me on bad days.  They arrange a lunch with me for their birthday because they know I won’t make it out at night for drinks. 

They are also incredibly honest, and will happily tell me I’m being a muppet if needed! But most of all they lift me. They help me be the best version of who I can be. Their faith in me reflects my faith in them. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without these beautiful strong, intelligent women in my life, and I’m blessed that I don’t need to find out. 

I sadly all to often see people, chronically ill people, those with RA and Fibromyalgia and ME and MS saying just how lonely and  isolated they’ve become, particularly for those who’ve had to give up working. They’ve almost lost contact with the outside world, friends have drifted away following repeat cancellations, people stop asking them out because they can’t guarantee being there. 

Or they’ve fallen out with friends over well meaning but ill-thought advice. It’s difficult to remember people are only being kind, especially when you’re in a lot of pain and then you don’t feel friends understand so sadly all too often it creates a space between them that neither knows how to fill. 

So what have I done differently? I’m not sure I have a magic solution. I’ve perhaps just been lucky enough to make friends with some amazing ladies. I’ve always been open and honest with them, especially about my illness and how I feel. I think in some ways my blog has helped, they can read what I’m going through without it needing to be the topic of every conversation. 

I also think it’s important to remember that friendship, just like any other relationship takes work. I realised in January I hadn’t seen two friends in far too long, so I messaged them both and said OK, lunch when? Saw one last week, will see the other next week. Make that call, keep in touch. 

I don’t mean it should feel unnatural or be an effort, but that it’s important we put in as much love and energy as we get out. It would be horrid to think after recharging me last night that my friends went home drained, but it’s a reciprocal process, we chat, we laugh, we vent, we eat and we somehow make sure we each share what we need. It’s exactly the same with my other friends. You have to really be there and you have to actively listen (call it mindful friendship time!) to nsure they know they are special and they are loved. 

The payback is priceless, you feel special and loved too πŸ’™