jmgoyder

wings and things

Arthur

I found out this morning that Arthur died yesterday and am so terribly sad. Arthur worked for Anthony’s family as a dairy hand for decades and lived in the worker’s hut. He first came here when he was a teenager (well before my time). Less than two years ago, when Anthony had already begun living in the nursing home, Arthur began to seem very frail and ill and the hut was falling down, so I helped to arrange his transition to a nursing home (not the same one as Anthony’s). It was a heartbreaking decision because Arthur loved it here. After the dairy folded, he simply lived here, did a few odd jobs and, in latter years, just loved to sit on his veranda and watch the birds.

But Arthur thrived in the nursing home, to begin with. He had company, friends, and he was popular with the staff because he was such an unusual character. Ming and I visited him as often as we could, and just two weeks ago I took Anthony to visit, but we could see that Arthur was very ill.

When I rang to tell Anthony this morning, I was hit with such a wave of sorrow and nostalgia that I wept clumsily into the phone and, once again, Anthony had to comfort me. Arthur was part of the fabric of this place, this farm, our lives, for so long. He watched Ming grow up, he kissed me gently on the cheek last time we visited, and he and Anthony shook each others’ frail hands.

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Listen to me!

It is over ten years since I completed my PhD in cultural studies; my thesis focused on the importance of listening to the storying of people with Alzheimer’s Disease. It was not a scientific thesis (and at the time I had no idea what the difference between qualitative and quantitative research was); it was more of an exploratory study of the art and gift of listening.

My interest in how listening might help/give comfort was inspired by the various patients in the nursing home in which I worked at the time – in particular a guy who I called ‘Joe’ who seemed to think I was his long-deceased fiancee.

After I graduated, I rewrote the thesis as a book and it was published – We’ll be married in Fremantle. This is not a plug for the book, as it was published way back in 2001, and not a best seller by any means, although it was shortlisted for various prizes for nonfiction.

I remember Anthony being so proud of me, for the PhD and then the book (Ming was a little kid then and Anthony was in good health), but I also remember, after all those years of academic study, how the simple art of listening would always be important to me.

Listening isn’t as easy as it sounds because sometimes it is difficult to shut up, refrain from giving advice etc. I make this mistake all the time with Ants and Ming (for different reasons, obviously), but now I am re-learning my own advice – to just listen.

Tonight, Ming said, “Mum, just listen to me!” and I did, and I shut my mouth, and I learned more about my open-hearted son than I have for ages.

Okay, before I get too sentimental, we are getting some ducklings tomorrow to keep our only duck company – I am so excited!

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Surreal

I saw Anthony this afternoon at the nursing home, and I showed him my blistered, peeling, bleeding hands and feet and told him that I had seen a doctor who had prescribed cortisone cream.

The doctor was more fascinated than concerned, when I told him I thought I had ‘pompholyx’. So, while I scratched away at my itchy hands and feet, he looked it up and confirmed my self-diagnosis. I just wish he hadn’t insisted on looking at my always-dirty-from-the-chook-yard feet – oh well.

Anyway, as I was telling Anthony all of this in my usual dramatic way, he pointed to his own hands and said he had the same thing. Well of course he didn’t have the same thing – it was just skin cancers on his old hands but I appreciated his empathy.

But then he whispered to me that it might be Parkinson’s disease and this is how our conversation unfolded:

Anthony: There is a doctor here who knows about it.
Me: About what?
Anthony: Your hands, this – he has black hair, young guy.
Me: Is he the doctor replacing the one on holidays?
Anthony: I don’t know, but don’t trust him, Jules.
Me: Why?
Anthony: He wants all of the Parkinson’s people in an experiment.
Me: Oh Ants it’s probably just a student doing a survey – is he asking you questions?
Anthony: Yes, personal. Don’t tell him anything, Jules.
Me: Ants, do you think you might be imagining or hallucinating some of this?
Anthony: I don’t know, maybe – oh and the family came this morning to take this place over.
Me: The Goyders?
Anthony: Yes – there’s a lot of money – be careful.
Me: I’ll check it out if you check out that whole doctor thing.
Anthony: One of them has red hair.
Me: That’s the priest isn’t it?
Anthony: No, the doctor – another one….
Me: I have to go now, Ants but I’ll be back tomorrow.
Anthony: Why do you have to go?
Me: It’s getting late, I have to get groceries, go to the chemist and look after Mingy.
Anthony: But where do you live now?
Me: I live at Bythorne, silly, on the farm!
Anthony: Do I still have a corner room there?
Me: Yes, but I can’t look after you overnight now because you are too heavy.
Anthony: But it’s still my farm.
Me: Your beautiful, beautiful farm, Ants, and Ming and I are taking care of it.

After this conversation, we hugged and kissed and I came home to Anthony’s resounding absence.

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Our marriage

For better or worse ….

When Anthony and I were married, we agreed to the usual vows including ‘for better or worse’. At the time, I was unconcerned that he was 23 years older. He, on the other hand, was very concerned, and worried that I might end up looking after an old man. At the time, we both laughed this off because we didn’t anticipate illness.

It seems unfair that my beautiful Anthony was inflicted with kidney cancer, diabetes, liver disease, prostate cancer, then (by far the worst), Parkinson’s disease – all within the first ten years of our marriage. For Ming to never have known this gorgeous, energetic, life-of-the-party person I fell in love with is a bit heartbreaking for me. I can only show Ming photos of when Anthony cuddled him, lifted him over fences to feed calves, taught him how to wash the car, strollered him into the dairy, slept with him crooked inside his shoulder space, toilet-trained him in about two hours when I was away at a conference, loved him with the energy of a new father, rejoiced in every single breath, sound, word, movement that Ming made.

Now, with the encroaching dementia that comes with advanced Parkinson’s disease, and Anthony’s deterioration in mobility, his wild hallucinations that he has been kidnapped, his outings with me fraught with bizarre stories of what I know couldn’t possibly have happened (eg. removal of a foetus from Ants), I sometimes cry.

Tonight, the nurse enabled a phone-call to Ants and, as soon as I heard his voice (usually it is soft now, but tonight it was loud and confident), my pent up tears broke.

Anthony: Jules -please don’t cry!

Me: It’s all just so hard, Ants – sorry.

Anthony: Jules, it is going to be okay.

In sickness and in health ….

The term ‘marriage’ implies commitment, loyalty, empathy, forgiveness, flexibility, and the ability to carry on, no matter what. In this sense, I am actually ‘married’ to a lot of people and this makes me feel on top of the world!

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Another little blog break

One of the unexpected bonuses of blogging for me has been the very real friendships formed, the mutual support, the shared humour, the shared grief. The lessons of life that I have learned through other people’s stories, and interactions, have taught me how to better do empathy and sympathy, and forced me to feel the difference.

Thanks so much for those of you who have commented, ‘liked’, and given me your friendships. For those of you who are bloggers, I am struggling at the moment to keep up with your writings, so please forgive me for that. For Facebook friends, same thing really!

Ming goes to court in three days. Apparently he and I simply appear, his charges will be read out, and the case will be adjourned by our lawyer until the end of February. So I really need to concentrate on all of this at least until the beginning of February, and blogging will go on the back burner for the time being.

Hard to believe now that when I began blogging it was all about the birds.

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Itchy hands

For a couple of days now my hands have been painfully itchy (apparently there is a myth that this means I am coming into some unexpected money – ha!)

I noticed that on the sides of each of my fingers there are several miniature blisters so I thought I’d google the condition and here is what I found:

http://www.pompholyx.co.uk/your_experiences.html

Yes, it would seem that I have pompholyx which of course I have never heard of before. It’s a form of eczema apparently, and the causes include everything from humidity to stress (both of which fit my situation). I’m a little alarmed to find that it may get worse but I’m also relieved that it may simply go away of its own accord. As diseases go, it certainly isn’t serious, but the itchiness is driving me slightly crazy because I want to scratch my hands to bits.

Changing the subject: I wrote a post about Ming yesterday but I trashed it soon after because it seemed a bit disloyal to a son who is, after all, only 10% evil haha! But I realize it will already have been seen by some so, just to reassure you, he and I are once again on the same page, and my new nickname for him is “90%”.

Another update: even though I briefly sighted a couple of the peahens the other day, I haven’t seen them again and five are still missing. Nesting season is well and truly over so I think I will have to assume that they have either flown away (to get away from the peacocks’ attention), or have been killed by foxes. I am hoping it’s the former but I will never know. My peacock-knowledgeable friend, Mike, came over to see us yesterday because Anthony was home for the day and I asked him if the males would be okay without their ‘wives’ and he reassured me that they would, but it is still sad to have lost the girls. I guess, you never know, they might come back. That’s the risk with free-range but I never wanted to pen them in.

I’m off soon to go into the nursing home for the afternoon. It is only one street away from the beach so much cooler than here on the farm. Pompholyx is not contagious so that’s okay; I just hope he doesn’t notice that I have taken my wedding and engagement rings off because there were a couple of blisters underneath them. My ring finger feels really naked as, except to clean the rings, I have never taken them off.

Here are some photos of the peahens (much more pleasant than a photo of my blistered hands):

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Good news!

Yesterday, after wearing a head-to-hip spinal brace for three months, my niece was allowed to take it off for good. When I heard the news I couldn’t stop laughing and leaping crazily around the house! She was the last of the five children to be given the green light, so things are definitely looking up.

Here is a photo of her next to her brother last year. And yes that is Gutsy9 (as a baby) on her shoulder. Bravo, my lovely niece!

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“Totally and utterly stupid.”

Yesterday morning Ming and I went to our third appointment with the lawyer and were told that the first court appearance next week will simply be a reading of the charges and an adjournment until the end of February. We were also given the video of the police interview conducted the night of the accident. Ming has been told to watch it with a notebook in hand in case he wants to change or retract anything he said.

We were going to watch it together but after he went to bed last night, I decided to watch it by myself just in case I had an emotional reaction. The interview began after midnight, the night of the accident, and went for 80 minutes and was conducted while I was waiting with my friends in the foyer of the police station. My mother was with me for the first part of the night but when my friends arrived I told her to go to the hospital which she did. By that time I had stopped sobbing more or less and Ming was finally released at 3am.

During all of those hours I had no idea how the children were and I had no idea what was happening with Ming. These were very dark hours. After the police station, Ming and I went straight to the hospital to see the children and families (except for one nephew who had been flown, with my brother, to Perth from the scene of the accident).

Well now I do know what was happening with Ming during those earlier hours. Two policemen sat on either side of him at a round table and he was questioned about every detail of the accident. Every now and then Ming’s voice caught on a sob as if he had been crying previous to the interview. He answered all of the questions honestly and politely and if he didn’t know, or couldn’t remember, that, too, was noted.

When asked to talk about each of the children, his voice went soft with emotion and a couple of times he sighed before he was able to go on with a steady voice. At no point did he attempt to make any excuses or defend his actions and when asked to state his own opinion of himself and what he had done he said, with no hesitation:

“Totally and utterly stupid.”

I am glad I watched this without Ming because of course it brought back the horror of that night and of course I cried a lot. But now I will be able to watch it with him calmly and help him make notes, although I didn’t hear him say anything but the truth so I don’t really think there is any need to add anything.

He has been charged with five counts of dangerous driving causing bodily harm and obviously he will plead guilty. We found out last week that the car insurance will not pay which is understandable but still a blow. I haven’t told Anthony this; in fact I told him the exact opposite because he sold some very precious shares that he has had for decades in order to buy Ming the ute on his last birthday.

And to top things off, the lawyer said that the barrister he has obtained for Ming charges $4,000 per day! I nearly fell off my chair at this almost incomprehensible amount of money and I have no idea how we are going to manage except that tomorrow I turn 55 and can access my superannuation so in that sense we are very lucky. I would have been panicking otherwise. Now I am just a bit shell-shocked!

This has already been a very long and hard journey in terms of the initial shock, the injuries and slow recovery of the children, and finally now the court case which may go on a bit – I’m not sure.

For many in my family there have undoubtedly been days of utter hopelessness and waiting so long for various splints and casts and braces to come off has been a test of endurance, not just for the kids, who have been magnificently brave and stoic, but for their parents, siblings, my mother, Ming and me.

Now, for Ming and me, there is a different kind of waiting – for the eventual sentencing. I had thought this would all be much faster and I’ve been kind of holding my breath, waiting for it all to be over, for Ming to take his punishment, and for all of us to be able to move on into our various next chapters.

Totally and utterly stupid.

Because there is no point in holding my breath – and I have been doing this for too long now, both metaphorically and physically. Breathing will become the focus of every new day and breathing will get us through the next few months of whatever and, best of all, despite the accident, we are all still breathing.

And for this I thank God, the ambulance attendants, the hospital staff, my family, but most of all I thank the five children injured for their heroism, generosity of spirit, humour, and love to Ming, me and each other.

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Here comes the bride!

This afternoon my sister-in-law (married to my youngest brother) and their three younger children came to stay overnight at my mother’s house because they have hospital checkups up in Perth tomorrow and the next day.

Neither my family or theirs was able to attend my eldest niece’s wedding in Scotland a few months ago to her Scottish beau. So, as a special treat for all of us, Ashtyn came over in her wedding dress! Later tonight they will watch the wedding video which Ming and I have already seen. In fact, we were the first to see it – quite an honour as we got to watch it with the happy couple, and, even though I am not usually a wedding crier, I did shed a few happy tears.

It was so beautiful to see my sister-in-law, and my nieces and nephew (all of whom have nearly fully recovered from injuries sustained in the accident), and then, when Ashtyn arrived in her dress, it was such a buzz for all of us!

My other brother’s daughter (Ashtyn’s younger sister) will hopefully get her spinal brace off in a couple of days. As you can imagine, we are all in a state of perpetual hope that this will happen.

As a whole, our family is beginning to breathe a bit easier now. Well, Ashtyn had to take the wedding dress off and change before she could breathe at all, but that’s beside the point!

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Oh and my mother prepared an incredible meal for everyone of leftover pizzas from Ming’s party. Perfect!

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Another psychotic episode?

It is nearly 9.30pm here and I just got a phone-call from the nurse-in-charge at the nursing home who wanted me to calm Anthony down because he had, once again, become aggressive and was very confused. Ming and I tried, on the phone, to talk him into going to bed but he just kept ranting and mumbling incoherently and Ming gave up. I then tried, over and over, to convince him that nobody was trying to hurt him and that the staff just wanted to put him to bed, but it became impossible, so I hung up and rang the nurse back and she said she’d never seen him like this (she is his favourite nurse).

I asked if I should come in but she said no and not to stress and they would sit him down in the foyer (where he was apparently standing and yelling) and wait for him to become too tired to resist going to bed. When I apologized to her, she was so reassuring that it would all be okay that I nearly burst into tears, and, when I said “I can’t bear it for him that he is becoming so distressed so often”, she said something comforting about how she and the staff knew him, and knew that this was different behaviour, and that they were sad too.

Once I’d hung up the phone, I marvelled that I had taken Anthony to a special friend’s 80th birthday party today and he/we had had a great time, despite him being in a wheelchair and not quite ‘with it’. In her speech, the birthday girl even thanked Ants for coming to the party and that really touched me (she and my ma have been friends forever).

It has been suggested to me that taking Anthony out might not be a good idea because, when I take him back to the nursing home, he seems more confused and exhausted than before, and he is, quite obviously, becoming a difficult patient/resident. But, what the hell – I WILL continue to take him out, and bring him home, because I love him and miss him and I want to hold his hand. (I have always found couples that constantly hold hands slightly nauseating – ha – but now I don’t!)

PS. If anyone calls me wonderful or amazing I will bop them! This is just how it is – how it is.

Anthony listening to speech

This photo is of Ants three years ago, on his 75th birthday. He turns 78 in a few weeks – quite a survivor!

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