You couldn’t write it. But I’ll try.
A few weeks ago I had another wee turn at work. Exactly the same as last year…..pins and needles and numbness in left hand, travelled up arm, and then slurred speech. A boss rang me just as speech went so it was all high drama! Two colleagues were immediately sent to my office to take me to A&E. Of course, my symptoms mimic a stroke so I was straight in for checks. Despite my protestations, I was kept in for two nights and left black and blue from cannulas. Though I shouldn’t complain because all those tests and observations confirmed no bleeds or strokes and no change in my brain tumour.
All grand…….except……. My neurologist diagnosed a partial seizure, increased my medication and instructed me to hand in my driving licence. I’ve been here before…..one year seizure free and I can reapply.
It could be worse. I live close to my base office and most of my meetings are now online. Any that involve travel can generally be reached by public transport but my bosses are very supportive and would never make me go to anything if I didn’t feel able.
Getting to and from my office should be fairly simple. Hubby is on a different rota for the summer months, but I was able to sort out earlier start and finish times so he can drop me off in the mornings and then there’s a wee bus I can get home.
Simple. You’d think. I am 50 years old. I spent my childhood either walking everywhere or getting buses. Unfortunately it seems the bus gods are having a laugh at my expense……
I have attempted to get the bus home four times now…..
Day 1: Standing at the bus stop. Bus drives past and doesn’t stop. Back into office to accept a lift I had earlier declined because “I need to get the bus!!” Ended up the bus that had driven past me wasn’t actually my bus. Doh.
Day 2: Successfully got home on the bus. Yay, go me!!
Day 3: Waited in rain for bus. Successfully get bus home, only to discover my keys are still in my office. Double doh! Walked back round to nearby cafe and drank tea while awaiting hubby’s return from work.
Day 4: On the advice of a dear friend, I made up funny song about forgetting keys. It goes like this (tune of ‘Head, shoulder, knees & toes’) -
Coat, handbag, phone and keys, phone and keys
Coat, handbag, phone and keys, phone and keys
And nooowww you arrreee ready to go home
Coat, handbag, phone and keys, phone and keys!!”
Recorded myself singing song for the laugh and sent it to hubby, sister and a couple of friends, including a neighbour I call our BNE (Best Neighbours Ever). BNE offered to collect me. I declined. Waited for bus. No bus. Rang bus station. Bus driver running late. Continued to wait for bus. Wind howling round me. Ears getting sore. Nose running. Hands freezing. Bus now half an hour late. Starting to worry bus would be cancelled. Next bus due in another half hour’s time. Rang bus station again. No answer. Rang bus station again……and again…….and again……..No answer. Rang BNE. Collected by BNE. Arrived home with ringing ears, a snotty nose and greeted by a hungry dog!
Hoping for more success tomorrow. Thankfully bus life is temporary until hubby returns to his previous rota in a few months time.
Seriously though, it shouldn’t be this hard!! I’m only trying to get a bus a few miles up the road, I’m not trying to cross the Mississippi on a raft!!
And now for the positive finish…….I'm home, I’m safe, I have a great life full of fun and amazingly supportive family and friends, not to mention I’m still alive! I’ll be alright if nothing falls on me………which reminds of another positive story to end on…….
Following the death of my darling beloved dad, I made a very bold purchase of a baby grand piano. It’s second hand but looks like new. I played piano as a youngling and was getting ready for my Grade 6 exam before boys, rock music and drink made classical piano lessons very uncool. Dad had been gutted when I gave up, and was delighted when I started playing again a few years post diagnosis, in a bid to improve my memory. (It worked, my memory though not great is nowhere near as bad as it was, and to my surprise I can still read music). I began playing again on a keyboard, but being able to upgrade to a proper, upright (as was the original plan) piano was wonderful. How I ended up with a baby grand is simply due to a clever salesman and my knowledge that my daddy would’ve love it….he often had a taste for the finer things in life, and I know he’d have gotten a real kick out of hearing me play ‘Francis’ (Houseman……because nobody puts Baby in a corner…)!
Anyway, back round to the story. Stop yawning, I’m getting there!! We have a dog. She’s old and is becoming somewhat odd in her ways. Recently she started playing ‘floor is lava’ in all the rooms that don’t have carpets……the kitchen, back living room, and front room. So we bought a runner for the kitchen and two big mats for the back and front rooms. They actually look great so our old girl did us a good turn. Anyway, the mat for the Music Room (Francis needed to be housed appropriately and hubby has a record collection that needed to be showcased!) The Music Room mat needed to be slid under Francis, just a wee bit. Hubby told me he’d need me to slide it under while he lifted the piano slightly. I joked not to drop Francis on my head but then decided that if you’re going to go then having a piano dropped on your head seemed very rock n roll. Not quite death by stereo, but not far off it in terms of old skool kool!
The piano didn’t fall on me. The mat looks great. I got home. I’ll successfully get the bus tomorrow. I’ve got Friday and Monday off work. All is good. Living with.
As you were! Xxx
