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 December 2008 Himself improves! We get the windows cleaned! And visit the dentist! A quiet month, as you can see, mes amies, if getting the windows cleaned counts as an event and I fear this will be a very short letter. Well, the great news is that Himself is much improved. Things were bad, bad, bad and he continued to be in appalling pain or out of his head on painkillers or both and there was no let up and it was appalling and I know that it wasn't my agony so I've no right to whinge but like I said last month when someone you love is in pain, it's horrible to witness and it plunged me into despair and terror because suddenly I remembered all those articles I'd read about people living with chronic pain, people who've been in car crashes or are cursed with bad arthritis and I realised that this is what it entailed. That for every day of their life, they're in agony and their main purpose every day is to manage that pain and suddenly I was wondering what 'manage' meant. It made me realise how very lucky I'd been and he'd been previous to this. That we'd been going along, not realising how very beautiful our lives were, simply because we were living each day without pain. My mother always says, 'Your health is your wealth' which usually generates much mockery from me and my siblings, but the older I get the more I'm inclined to agree. The funny thing is that every night I try to write a gratitude list and one of the things that regularly appears is that 'today no terrible disasters happened,' so in a way I HAD been grateful for the luxury of ordinariness and I was desperate to return to those halcyon, pain-free, anxiety-free days. Then! Unexpectedly a corner was turned! He went back to his physio who did some fiendish jiggery-pokery on the place where the nerves and his spine intersected, which released him from much of the pain and he came home armed with a set of exercises, which the physio claimed would be a great help. He's meant to do them for 10 minutes 3 times a day and in solidarity I am his coach and timekeeper. First of all he has to nod his head vigorously and while he's doing that I shout, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Then he has to shake his head vigorously and I shout, "No! No! No!" Then he has to waggle his head in a strange, inconclusive way and I shout, "I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!" Then he has to do rotating movements with his head, like I used to do in the warmups in the aerobic classes I did in the 80s and I shout, "Round we go! Round we go! Round we go!" At this point he tries to look at the clock and I say, "It's only been 4 and a half minutes, keep going," and he objects and says that it must be at least 7 minutes but I shout, "Funky chicken! Funky chicken!" and I hide the clock up my jumper. Defeated, he commences doing jutting movements with his head, (like he's doing the funky chicken) and I sing Earth Wind and Fire songs to get him in the funky chicken mood. Then he has to do some funny business with a ball and a wall, where he sort of head-butts the ball against the wall using his neck muscles. I am still looking for the best song to accompany this but Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting has been my default thus far. But it seems to be working, thanks be to Christ and thank you to the innumerable well-wishers who got in touch. You've all been so very concerned and kind and it did help. And so sorry about this but because it's early days he has to keep away from the mouse, so he won't be able to answer any emails for the forseeable, but in time normal service will be restored. Meanwhile, Christmas looms. God, what a wretched business it is and hard to believe that this time last year, we were swanning around, so bounteously laden with worldly goods that there wasn't a single other thing we could think of that we needed and were altruistically giving each other goats on behalf of communities in the developing world. This year, seeing as the world economy has gone into meltdown, it's more like, feck the Ethiopian farmers and where's me Body Shop gift basket! I am of course joking (stinky journalists and you know who you are, do NOT lift that line out of context.) All I'm saying is that things are very different this year. Lots of people won't be buying anything, goats OR body shop gift baskets. Himself says that if there's any way that people can, we should continue spending. This causes me to narrow my eyes suspiciously at him and conclude he's after buying a load more CDs. "It's basic Keynesian economics," he keeps saying and I keep replying, "What the hell would you know?" And then I remember that actually he has an MA in Economics and wrong-footed, I shout, "Time for your exercises! Dance! Boogie Wonderlaaaa-aaand!" So yes, we got the windows cleaned and obviously they'd been filthy because for a day or so I thought my eyesight had improved dramatically then - irony of ironies - I sat on my glasses and broke them and when I went to get them fixed Des the Eyes said I hadn't had a test in a long time, so I had one and it turned out that my eyesight had DISimproved. Did I mention I went to get myself checked to see if laser surgery would work? Well, it would fix the short-sightedness but then I'd have to wear reading glasses and I read A LOT so basically I'd be swapping one form of bad eyesight for another, so I think I won't proceed even though apparently you get given valium before the surgery and that, of course, would be delightful. Speaking of lasers, I had my legs done and mes amies, it was a resounding success! Previous to this I have had the hairiest legs in Christendom. Loads of times I've met people and they've said, 'Oh no, I bet my legs are hairier than yours, mine are REALLY hairy', then I unveil my furry limbs and they usually swallow hard and step back and say, 'Riiiight, I see what you mean…" So I've had them waxed for decades but the upkeep has always been a full time job, about 20 minutes after I've had them waxed, they start to grow back, I swear I can actually SEE them, breaking through the surface of the skin, like new born chicks. So I went to have them lasered and in all fairness, they did warn me that one go wouldn't cure me, but even after one go, there is a DRAMATIC lessening, a great deforestation. I can't tell you just how astonished I was because NOTHING works for me, not fake tan, not Restylane, not even automatic doors. (I often have to jump around on the pad in front of the door for some time before it finally notices me.) But this worked. Christ though, the PAIN. I admit, I'm a whinger, but I've never found leg waxing to be painful, in fact I find it quite relaxing and I really unsettle beauticians who say I'm an oddball, which I am, but not in the way they mean. So I was feeling quite cocky before my laser patch test - and within moments I was beaten. It was incredibly unpleasant, like being burnt over and over again, and on the advice of those who had gone before me I got a prescription for local anaesthetic cream, which took the edge of it a bit but it was still awful and I was trembly and nauseas for ages after it ended. But! Like I said, widespread deforestation so I'm pleased. What else happened in November? Himself's parents, the lovely John and Shirley came to visit and we went to a Christmas Craft fair in Dalkey town hall. I LOVE craft fairs, even if Caitríona and Suzanne and I DO call them crap fairs, despite the fact that we are no longer 11 but in our 40s. There was lovely chocolate at the fair, handmade stuff called Adam aimed specifically at men, in a stylish manly box and a personality guide to what kind of man he is based on what kind of chocolate he picks. Lots of fun. If you're having trouble knowing what to get the man in your life for Christmas and you don't want to give him a goat, you could always try him on these (www.chocolateheaven.ie) and if he doesn't like them, you can eat them yourself and everyone's happy. (Just to let you know that I ate some of these 'man' chocolates with no ill-effects. In fact they tasted not dissimilar to women-friendly chocolates. It's not as if they're made with male ingredients like engine oil and muddy shorts.) I am getting Himself a yearly subscription to Sheridan's cheese club for Christmas. It's what I got him last Christmas and he says it's the best present anyone's ever given him and what it entails is that on the second Wednesday of every month a foul-smelling parcel shows up at the front door, (usually flung by the postman, who yells, "For the love of God! The stench in the van!") When the foul-smelling parcel is unwrapped, it is found to contain 4 different cheeses and a long biography on each of them, the farm they grew up in, their nationality, age, favourite member of Girls Aloud, all that business. I couldn't be bothered myself, cheese is cheese, but Himself gets a great kick out of it. So that's what he's getting again this year. And a hen, maybe. Or a beehive. The charity Concern has done a fabulous catalogue, if you're interested in helping the Ethiopian farmers. I can't lay my hands on it at the minute, to give you the website address, I thought I had it on my table here, but unaccountably it has disappeared, but I'm sure it's Concern dot something and really it's very inspiring and I found it uplifting. (see concerngifts.org - Himself) FTLOG! Thank you to my friend Eileen for introducing me to this letter-saving, text-friendly extrapolation. It is of course short for For the Love of God! Please use freely. It is Eileen's gift to us and she asks for nothing in return. And what about Mr Obama? Bloody fantastic, no? The morning after he won, I was at the airport and the telly was on and I couldn't stop crying and everyone seemed in great form. However, now that it's all over and it's safe, I will admit to a grudging affection for John McCain. Not the worst for a Republican. Also I had great sympathy for Cindy because some years ago she became addicted to prescription painkillers and started nicking them from the charity she set up to send medication to the developing world and had to go to rehab and into recovery. However, I despised Sarah Palin very very much. What else? I've babysat Dylan a few times and he is an absolute delight. Very responsive. I sing to him which he endures benignly but when I go up an octave and make my voice go wobbly and quavery, he laughs. And he's not even 6 months yet! Very advanced. He has started on solid food now, a lot of orange stuff, carrot mush and sweet potato mush. So there we are. Go easy in December. Mind yourself. Get enough sleep. Don't go if you don't want to go. Take Milk Thistle or whatever that stuff is that is meant to safeguard your liver. Drink lots of water. And if you do go berserk on the Baileys or the Black Magic or shout at your mother, forgive yourself. Life is very very hard and all we can do is our best and sometimes our best is fairly unambitious but feck it, we didn't rob a bank, we didn't kill anyone, so actually we're doing better than we know. Thank you again for all your kindness, you've no idea how grateful I am Lots of love and I'll write again early in the new year, Marian xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx |
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Photo © Neil Cooper