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10 September 2012

Posted by DMC on 11 September 2012 in Diary |

No English man’s diary would be complete without a running commentary on the weather. I don’t know whether this is an English trend or not but nevertheless it seems imperative to subject the reader to a description, of the weather, even down to the last drop of rain every month, which seems to produce some new record or other – the warmest; driest; most humid, etc.

To maintain this tendency then I have to say that the weather has been generally what one would expect at this time of the year pleasantly warm, with a light wind. Now that we are truly in the autumn the weather is beginning to run according to the season. The daytime temperatures now cooler and the nights themselves colder. Great golfing. weather…if only!

I was just trying to think whom it was to who came to see us yesterday. My problem now is that the days are so similar I really could not tell you what day of the week it is. I know they carry out such tests on people prior to the being committed to a mental institution and as things stand I would certainly fail. As my regular readers will recognise my world has shrunk significantly over the last few months. The significant change in mobility moving from the standing hoists to the sling hoist. With the former I could always get out in my electric wheelchair and this’ my lovely’ could manage that on her own. With the sling hoist, however, there is no question that this must be operated by two people. As there is not a person hanging around to assist Alice whenever I wished to move from my electric wheelchair to my study chair, so my world is turned on its head; another door slammed and permanently sealed against me

This morning, whilst being dressed, one of the carers casually asked me what sort of day I was looking forward to. Without being churlish I had to say that I really had no idea and confess to not knowing what day of the week it was. At least previously I knew that there was a fair chance that every Tuesday I would be dressed differently, my routine would change and I would be asked to the golf club to meet up with my pals and have lunch.

There was never any problem with this as Ollie could be trusted to take me there unaccompanied and when we returned in the afternoon’ my lovely’ was quite capable of moving me from the standing hoist to my armchair. Now this option is no longer available, the readers will have seen that this one excitement of the week has now been taken from me.

I am very lucky that there are a steady flow of people who still want to visit me, so we have set up a sort of routine. If it is a short visit then they are invited around 11 am accepting the visit would have to end before midday when the carers came in. Every now and then ‘my lovely’ would fit people in on a slightly longer visit, to have lunch, no longer at the Cricketers but in our garden or breakfast room. That then is the extent of the much broader life that I used to enjoy. I cannot say that I am miserable but more, I am grateful at still being alive and feeling reasonably well.

I receive a significant element of companionship from ‘my lovely’, starting with our reading session in the morning, the lunchtime break; our time together in the afternoon when I might manage to get ‘my lovely’ to watch a movie (strongly encouraged by me as I know that she will probably not often get a rest), to my favourite part of the day, after supper for a couple of hours before I put to bed. Having said that we are in discussion with Ross Nursing to change my bedtime from 8.30 to 8.00. If we are watching anything of interest, on the television, it will usually finish at 8.00 and the next programme will certainly go from 8.00 to 9 .00,, so we have the aggravation of watching many a programme, which we could catch up with on the following day ‘ on demand’ but rarely do, so this is a half an hour which we will happily relinquish particularly as it is a time when I can get very edgy. So, this is my shrinking world. Confined to my desk chair or wheelchair, totally unable to move without assistance. I am not seeking commiserations but trying to explain honestly what life holds for me at present and yes, I consider I still have a quality of life worth continuing with.

Here is a little joke for you. Not be taken too seriously. Click here to enjoy.


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