jmgoyder

wings and things

Yeeha!

Husband’s new medical regime seems to be working and he is much better so I just rang him to say I’d pick him up for the weekend and he and I are overjoyed and Son is going to stay at his friend’s place anyway so we won’t have that conflict issue and I better sweep the verandas and get some crayfish and champagne and invite lots of people and dust the house and find my lipstick and find the Blackbooks dvds Husband loves so much and pick some flowers and maybe get a pork roast or a lamb roast and heaps of salad and to hear him sounding so good after the last two weeks of weirdness and stuff is great so I am experimenting with long semi-unpunctuated sentences that end with the words yeeha yahoo hurray but mostly yeeha because that is my favourite word tonight!

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Dead or alive?

This picture was taken at Husband’s 75th birthday party 14 months ago. A lot has changed since then, to say the least….

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I hesitate to write this post because I realize it might provoke the ire of some, but, when Husband said yesterday that it would be better for everyone if he died, I caught myself thinking yes and no in the same moment.

Obviously, my no response was the one I went with in order to comfort Husband and, when I saw him later in the day (he had been ambulanced back from the local hospital to the nursing lodge, but I didn’t know this at the time), I reiterated this no.

On the other hand, now that Husband, Son and I have managed to crack the shell of the boiled egg of death, that yes is a tempting thought if only to relieve Husband’s suffering in relation to his recent downhill ‘slide’ into this new phase of Parkinson’s disease.

Euthanasia is a terrifying topic; it is also utterly out of the question for us, but Husband is no longer in the throes of life but in the throes of death. This latter point is not an emotional statement; it is a statement of fact.

The other evening, as I was tucking Husband into bed here at home, I said, “Sometimes, when I can’t wake you up, I think you’re dead.” In reply, he said, drowsily, “That would be a good outcome,” and he actually chuckled. You see, I told you he is a hero!

I am not sure what Husband, Son and I are supposed to wish for anymore….

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Coincidences

Good coincided with not-so-good this Easter weekend.

Husband, home for a few days from the nursing lodge, had a nasty turn yesterday before his niece, Jane (of photographic talent) came to visit, so he slept throughout and didn’t end up seeing her. He did, however, get up for the next two lots of visitors and it was wonderful!

But, today, he had another nasty turn and I was worried enough to get the ambulance to take him to hospital where he is now being treated by Jane’s husband (of medical and other talents). I love this coincidence and am relieved to know he is in such good hands as it has been several very anxious hours.

Before, when Husband had these ‘turns’ he would recover quite quickly. Sometimes he would feel one coming and warn us by saying, “I think I’m having an attack of the wobblies”. But today and yesterday there was no such forewarning; he just suddenly slumped in his chair, became incoherent, glazy-eyed and unresponsive. Today, when I tried to rouse him, I couldn’t and this lasted nearly two hours. That’s when I called the ambulance.

When the ambulance arrived, one of the attendants knew Jane – another lovely coincidence – and she simultaneously calmed me down (I got a bit teary – oh how I hate that!) and roused Husband enough to get him onto the wheelchair stretcher thing. Once he was more alert he gave me a bewildered look and I gave him one back.

Subsequent tests at the Emergency section of the hospital show no sign of blood pressure, blood sugar or stroke (all of the things I thought might account for these ‘turns’) so it looks like it is yet another symptom of Parkinson’s and a sign that the disease is getting worse despite the medication.

Another coincidence is that Son, who was still at his friend’s place where he went last night, rang me at exactly the same time I was about to ring him. I was going to suggest he stayed another night with his friend, so when he rang to suggest the same thing I thought that was a good idea, but his words disturbed me: “I just don’t want to come home to all that mess of sadness, Mum.”

Wise boy because I was thinking exactly the same thing; another coincidence.

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Falling in love

I have had a request to write the story of my love affair with Husband but I’m not sure whether to do so or not – mmmm! I think the 23 year age gap is a curiosity factor, especially since Husband was 41 and I was still a teenager when we first met. The story is rather romantic I suppose, and it is rather a gentle story in retrospect; at the time it was high drama – hehe!

Dilemma!

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Anchorage

Husband and I have been married nearly 20 years – our 19th anniversary is coming up soon but we both always forget about it and my mum inevitably reminds us with a phonecall! Anyway, for most of those years of marriage, he has been an anchor for my flightiness, so I find it a little strange now to be his anchor, when I don’t feel anchored myself.

He is home now. It was supposed to be for one night but yesterday afternoon, despite my intentions to keep this ‘visit’ upbeat, he and I both became emotional and I rang the nursing lodge to say he would be staying home an extra night. His sigh of relief made the difficulty of this extra night worth it, but, because, like the first night, it was a difficult night of getting up and down, we have both realized that the nursing lodge was a good decision.

As usual, we were very honest with each other and Son’s occasional interjections were bitingly honest: “Dad, Mum and I can’t look after you as well as they do in the nursing lodge – can’t you see that?” He added a few adolescent expletives to emphasize his opinion which we forgave him because, after all, he is still trapped in his back splint and can’t help me tend to Husband.

The guilt associated with having to ‘place’ the love of your life into care, despite that person’s agreement to do so, is something difficult to describe. So many friends have expressed to me how terrible this felt for them in terms of their parents, and their empathy and commiserations are much appreciated. However, what many people forget is that Husband is not my parent – he is my husband. It even took awhile for the nursing staff at the lodge to realize this because he is 23 years older than I am, so it was assumed that I was his doting daughter! This kind of mistaken identity thing has happened many times over the years and is a source of much hilarity – well, it used to be!

Five weeks ago, while Son was in intensive care, I took this photo from my hotel balcony in Perth. I was actually trying to get a picture of the elusive swans!

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Three girls flying

Yesterday I tried to insert this picture and accompanying article into my metaphor post because I thought it fitted well with that theme, but it ended up being too small, so here it is again. This picture is of my beautiful niece and her friend and the words are by my mother … read on

And who is the third girl you ask? My mother, of course, who has winged her way through widowhood, cancer, hearing loss and now an eye problem, with flying colours!

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Oh to be a metaphor!

I have always loved the elusive notion of metaphor, and the way it dances and flits from one meaning to another, evading capture.

Okay, back down to ground level….

Unlike Woodroffe (always very grubby), our other Sebastopol goose, Diamond, keeps her multitude of feathers very clean. This is her, wondering if she should venture into a bath already used by Woody, Zaruma and the other members of ‘the gang’. I can definitely understand her reticence!

She’s pretty good at the navel-gazing thing too!

Angelina: How come she never uses us as metaphors? It’s always those filthy geese and ducks!

Brad: Angie, she does use us as metaphors – all the time!

Angelina: Yes but she gives them all the good cabbage and gives us the leftovers. I don’t get that!

Brad: Calm down, Angie – you are my own personal metaphor and always will be.

Angelina: Oh, really? Of what?

Brad: Of beauty, Angie, of beauty. Okay, now which branch do you want tonight – let’s have a snuggle.

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I have always loved the elusive notion of metaphor, and the way it dances and flits from one meaning to another, evading capture.

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Halycon days

I received some feedback about yesterday’s ‘lassitude’ post which has got me thinking that I may have portrayed Son as somewhat of a navel-gazer, so I feel kind of bad about that because that’s probably a better description of me at the moment!

Son is doing the best he can four weeks after having his spine fused and eight weeks after Husband became a permanent resident at the nursing lodge. He’s 18 years old and wearing a chest-to-hip brace, so he is unable to bend far enough to gaze at his navel – hehe!

As a lecturer in English and creative writing you would think I knew what ‘halycon days’ meant – not so. I thought it meant those glorious fun-filled days of youth….

Son is on the left here with one of his best friends. Obviously this was before his operation.

And here he is (bottom centre) with all his wonderful cousins on my side of the family, and Grandma (top centre) last Christmas.

‘Halycon days’ actually means days of calm and tranquility so perhaps, during these days of post-operative convalescence, lassitude is okay; perhaps these are our halycon days and we should embrace them.

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Hold your head up high

Geese have a natural ability to hold their heads up high. You’ve all seen pictures of Godfrey doing this, but the younger ones are getting good at it too. Diamond, on the left, is getting particularly good at it, whereas Seli still doesn’t have it down to a fine art.

The following photo is of my wonderful, unusual, brilliant friend, Nathalie Collins who, amongst other things, has enhanced my neck-stretching abilities by showing me how to hold my head up high. She herself (not that I am comparing her to a goose!) has a very natural ability to do so which, before I met her, I lacked. You can find Nathalie here and it’s definitely worth a gander (sorry that is a really bad play on words but I couldn’t help myself!)

http://theinfinitegame.org/cv/

Nathalie got me into blogging in the first place and set me up with WordPress when I didn’t even really know what blogging was. In fact, I am such a technophobe that I only just discovered that, after all these months, I wasn’t even properly signed up to her own blog (this is quite embarrassing and I hope she will forgive me!)

This is what Nathalie had to say about the picture:

“These “angel wing” crystal earrings were purchased in the USA, but the fashion has since migrated south to Australia. Silver and gold feathers are “in” at the moment and were part of my outfit in the “wear a hat to work day” I recently experienced.

 By the way, the hat was an original, Summer White House Press Hat from the Clinton Administration, given to me by a friend who covered the that president during his summer in Martha’s Vinyard. Now matter how the vote went no one else at work had a hat that cool

The hat that won the vote? A straw hat with peacock feathers! I was devastated.

The thing about the earrings is that they remind me of Julie…the bird bit mainly, but also the sparkly bit. In her own way, Julie is as bright and shiny (and cheerful) as the crystals in my earrings.”

Nathalie is my Diamond and I am her Seli. Some friendships are definitely worth feathering….

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