Am I wearing clashing colours, having my hair in stripes of green and red and blue, clopping about in custom made clogs? No. My clothes are ones I have worn for years. There is nothing to make the children or grandchildren clasp their hands over their eyes and say 'oh mum'. They don't mind being seen with me. They don't mind telling people who I am and claiming kinship. Drat.
So what am I doing with my aged self?
I sing in a choir which is doing very well, we even won the Cornwall Cup a week or so ago. Sadly I wasn't actually singing in the choir when they won (it's probably why they won) but I will take all reflected glory.
I have moved into a village in Cornwall 5 doors away from my Mother who is actually doing a lot better than I am age wise. Drat.
I started out making cards and paper-crafts and I still really love doing that but this past few months I have extended my range into making tote bags and wash bags and make up bags and cushion covers and even a small quilt. Overall I love doing what I am doing.
We now have 6 grandchildren ranging in age from 23 years to 5 months. Very cleverly, and with no interference from myself, they have managed to arrange themselves into three grandsons and three granddaughters. Tidy. Neat. Nice.
I said many years ago, as my knees started to give me trouble, that I would never become Arthritis. It was obviously going to become part of me but it was never going to take over. Well it might have been a bit previous to sound so pompous and perhaps because of that, the Arthritis is trying to prove me wrong. Nowadays the knees that don't want to work and the neck that aches have been joined by the shoulders that make sleeping a bit of a problem and the wrists that suddenly stab and the fingers that are stiff and a little unwieldy.
Yesterday I missed out on my knee replacement for the second time. Two weeks ago I turned up at the Hospital and after all the tests was told there were no beds so was sent home, a quivering wreck of tears and (stupidly) guilt in that I felt I had let everyone down. Yesterday I turned up at the Hospital and had tests and was dressed in a gown and fitted with a compression stocking and told that Yay there is a bed just for you. I waited in the waiting room with a blanket over my knees to keep me warm only to be told hours later that too many emergencies had come in, I was bumped off the theatre list. Because I had been expecting no beds I knew that had they told me there were none early on I would have coped and been ok. But to be told there was a bed, to be dressed in glamorous operation attire, to be allowed to build up my hope and then to be dashed was too much and I dissolved into tears again. How weak. How stupid. Tears just make your eyes red and your face ugly. They don't change results. So I am back home again.
The NHS is justifiably proud of its past. It was an amazing idea and wonderfully designed to take care of all of us. However since its dream like inception it has become large and unwieldy and no longer fit for purpose. Nurses need degrees rather than on the ward experience. No-one seems sure what is going on. Money is poured in and falls through without making any perceptible change. Knee jerk reactions to budget overspend means smaller hospitals are closed which puts even more pressure on over worked and understaffed larger hospitals. It results, inevitably, in a clogging of the arteries and no-one any longer gets the service they expect or deserve. And I cannot see that anyone is recognising this and trying to do anything other than firefight. I have sat in a ward and watched nurses who have had no lunch break and possibly no toilet break take five seconds to share a laugh with a colleague and to be maligned because patients are waiting. I noticed that patients ringing bells no longer get attended to straight away. In fact patients may wet the beds because when the bells ring no-one looks up to see who it is. None of the staff react to bells at all any more. They don't have time, they are not on their list of things they must get done before they can go home and care for their children and walk their dogs and finally get some food.
Rant over.
I will get another appointment. This will be my third attempt. Everyone tells me that the Patient Charter says the Hospital cannot on the day cancel more than twice' however I cannot find this anywhere to confirm it. I know that I saw the surgeon for my original consultation back in May last year and the first date I was offered was the end of February (that one was cancelled a week later and the 13th March offered instead) so I don't think the 18 weeks waiting relates to how long you have to wait for an operation just how long you wait between your doctor referring you and the surgeon seeing you. In fact all I can think is that this could go on and on and on forever.
The trouble is of course that I have let the Arthritis in my knees completely take over my life. The pain, no longer numbed by pain killers, is insistent and demanding and life limiting but not life threatening. Walking is painful. Standing is painful. Sitting is painful. Getting up and down can take ages and can be more painful than anything else. Driving is painful. Shopping is painful. Making dinner is painful. Washing up.................. You get the idea. Because of that as soon as I found out the date for my operation I put my life on hold and said - only another so many weeks and then you start the climb out of pain and back into normality. You emotionally align yourself to a pathway and when that path is blocked or even completely broken there is a moment when you cannot really imagine which way you are going to go until someone mends the path, moves the blockage. It is exhausting not only for yourself but for those around you who have also made plans around your temporary indisposition and final well being. I felt stupid for crying both times but actually I still feel like crying. I can no longer see any of the path in front of me, just endless starts on a never ending journey.
Enough wallowing.
Today I plan what I am going to do with this unexpected week. There are things I need to do before my sons wedding on April 11th and all of a sudden I have time to do them.
The quilt I made at Coast and Country classes Coast and Country Crafts
My make-up bag made from off-cuts of Curtain fabric.
A card I made some time ago.
