jmgoyder

wings and things

Prince

I only have one white peacock (named Prince) and two white peahens. Prince’s tail feathers are fully grown now. I will try to get a photo of him doing the fantail thing soon.
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My young human prince (son, Ming) has rediscovered his princely ways. Obviously a lot of his recent angst was to do with having unwittingly fractured some of the titanium in his spine post scoliosis surgery, and having to quit milking cows, and feeling emasculated by not being able to ever lift anything heavy. We have now seen the surgeon again and Ming is scheduled for revision surgery in the next couple of months. It has been a bit of a dramatic couple of weeks with tears etc. but over that now and have bought ramps and a trolley to help us lift stuff that is too heavy. Example: as we don’t get a rubbish collection, we have to take stuff to the local dump. Today it was some heavy stuff but the trolley + ramp thing worked beautifully! Such a relief.

Ming’s biggest sorrow is that he won’t be able to carry his bride over the threshold! (BTW there is no impending bride yet!)
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Update on Ming’s scoliosis

For those who don’t know, our son, Ming, had surgery 18 months ago to correct a severe (75% curve) scoliosis. This morning we had what was supposed to be the last post-op. appointment with his surgeon. The X-ray showed a fracture to the titanium rod, just below his shoulder blades. Ming wasn’t as shocked as I was because a couple of months ago he lifted some really heavy junk in one of our sheds (he’s not supposed to lift anything over 20 kilos), and rushed into the house in pain, terrified he had damaged something. We rang the surgeon who was reassuring on the phone, but Ming still needed a week off from farm work and he was in a lot of pain and panic with his spine clicking and clacking strangely.

At the time, partly because the surgeon didn’t feel it necessary to fast-track today’s appointment, I just kept reassuring Ming that he would be fine and I remember saying things like, “You can’t break titanium, Ming; I’m sure you’ve just pulled a muscle” etc. Well, I was wrong, obviously, and the surgeon now wants to see him again in 4 months, with a slight possibility of further surgery to fix the fracture. The fact that Ming is no longer in pain is a good sign, but the fracture has pulled the curve (which had been reduced to 28%) back to 35%, and Ming is upset with himself for being stupid, and upset with me for being so overly, and naively, reassuring.

But the good thing is that Ming is okay with things and is staying with one of his best friends tonight, where he will have fun and hopefully forget today’s news for a little while. And tomorrow he and I will undoubtedly discuss the situation and look at the bloody bright side and carry on. Tonight I will let myself shed a few anxious tears in order not to do so in front of Ming.

The picture is before surgery. He is much straighter now, and taller!

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Middle-aged? No way – I’m only 54!

I’ve just realized that not only am I, technically, middle-aged, but I have been for some time. Shock! This realization has been due to a series of health mishaps in the last month.

1. A gastric virus that had me bedridden/bathroom-ridden for two weeks, and a subsequent suspected cracked rib;
2. A rotten tooth that had to be extracted, culminating in an ongoing dry socket infection.
3. An eye test that revealed I need glasses for both distance and reading, and that I have early signs of macular degeneration, and that my strabismus (squint) is quite pronounced due to the fact that I can only use one eye at a time.
4. The flu (the sniffy, coughy, fevery one).
5. Confirmation of cracked rib today due to re-fracture.

Okay so this morning I had to take Anthony to our doctor for the routine burning off of multiple skin cancers but I made a double appointment so I could discuss my ailments as well. As a result I am on two courses of antibiotics for my tooth infection and the flu. Then I took Ants out to brunch. He was fairly mobile at the doctor’s but by the time we got to the restaurant, he needed the wheelchair. Hoisting him out of the car into the chair and racing into the restaurant because it was windily raining, then twisting us both into the far-too-small disabled toilet, then getting us to a table, I must have re-cracked the rib because, as we ate our meal, I experienced an increasingly severe pain to my right side every time I bent or turned. Once it was just to get Ants’ feet off the footplates of the wheelchair and I think that was the clincher. By the time I got him back to the nursing lodge, it was agony, so I raced down to the walk-in chiropractor (my brother is a chiro but he is away at the moment) and he confirmed that my rib was indeed fractured.

The doctor, optometrist and chiropractor all used the phrase “at your age” which I found alarming until I got home and googled “middle-age”. That’s when I made my discovery so I am sitting here quietly now, absorbing the fact that I am middle-aged.

Oh well, I guess I don’t need to stress about any wrinkles I have anymore because you’re allowed to have those when you’re middle-aged. And that’s a great relief!

This photo was taken before I was middle-aged. The little alien on my lap is Ming, now 19.

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Going with the flow

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This afternoon, I went and picked Anthony up from the nursing lodge to take him to the upholstering business that last rejuvenated the three antique armchairs in the living room. Since then, around 18 years ago, the business has changed hands and is owned by a delightful sister and brother. Today we actually found that the exact same fabric is still available, so that’s what Anthony wants.

But now here’s the thing: I don’t really love the fabric and even felt it was a little too dark all those years ago. I would much prefer something a little lighter and less flowery. The decision hasn’t been made yet so we shall see, but what I really like about this experience is that, even though it’s down to me in the end because I’m the one who lives here, I want him to choose, so he still knows this is his home.

When I got home from this mini-adventure (if you care for someone with advanced Parkinson’s disease, you will know what I mean by ‘adventure’), I decided to cook myself some cauliflower soup. It looks gross in the photo but is was delicious.

Then Ming and Blaze posed for me.

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Ming’s adventure 2

Well he finally got home just as it was getting dark. He hardly texted me at all, but at midnight I received:

All’s fine as wine summer shine!

Then today he wasn’t answering his phone so, in order to avoid another bout of worry, I went into town to see Ants. Just as I was about to come home again, the brat finally rang to say he was halfway home himself.

As I was about to turn into our driveway I noticed that a young steer was on the road (had gotten out of one our neighbours’ paddocks), so I quickly texted Ming with:

Steer on road.

I was ridiculously happy and relieved to see him again until he said grumpily, “Do you think I don’t know how to steer?”

We have both agreed to improve our texting skills – ha!

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Ming’s adventure 1

Ming is a big, loud extrovert of a son, but with a soft heart and a philosophical nature. I am so proud of the way he has coped with Anthony’s admission to the nursing lodge, simultaneous back surgery, and my subsequent bout of depression. These have presented him with some very difficult hurdles, like having to quit football, having to wait a year for his back to heal before going for his driver’s licence, having to wrestle with his feelings about Anthony’s deterioration, having to comfort me, and having to put up with the peacocks pooping at the door of his shed because they are so attracted to their own window reflections.

Late this afternoon, after milking, he is driving himself up to Perth (Western Australia’s capital city – 2 hours north of our farm) to see a band called karnivool perform. Even though he is staying overnight at his friend’s place, he is insisting on going to the performance by himself. I wanted so much to go with him (not to the concert, but for the drive – you know, to help him navigate the city) – but he gets furious at the suggestion. “I’m 19, Mum! I can look after myself!”

I feel like I felt, ten years ago, when he went on his first school excursion (a whole week!) I remember that Anthony and I took him up to the local primary school, saw him onto the bus, and I sobbed all the way home. I anticipate that I will want to sob like that when I wave him off in a couple of hours, so I will bite my lip. He has already told me to stop worrying or it will ruin his adventure so I will have to put on a mask of vicarious excitement for him and, as he says, “Stop being such a mother!” He is buzzing with excitement with just a slight hint of nerves. He will be okay. I will swallow my anxiety and give him my biggest grin and hug of confidence. Yes!

I just can’t wait for tomorrow afternoon when he will be safe at home again – our beautiful son! (Some of these photos have been posted before – sorry but I’m a bit sentimental today).

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Happy

I think feeling happy is a bit different to being happy. Maybe this is because when you simply are happy (because your bank account, love-life, health, job, family and friends etc. are all okay) you don’t notice the happiness; you don’t appreciate it. But when you feel happy, you are noticing the fragile edges, blossoms, and sunsets of whatever happiness is and you are learning how to create it day by day by day.

Today, my happiness was hugging my baby peacock, having lunch at an Indian restaurant with my friend/niece, Jane, buying baking utensils for my new cooking phase, watching TV with Anthony in the nursing lodge whilst giving him the last of the sticky date pudding with lots of thickened cream, knowing my ma will be home soon from Scotland, riding my bike, watching ‘Undercover Boss’ with Ming, and looking forward to tomorrow’s unfolding.

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Ming’s shed

Ming and I don’t argue anymore now that he is living in the shed. This is good. If I irritate him, he can go to his shed; if he irritates me, I can send him to his shed.

The shed/home was Anthony’s conception over two years ago and he still gets a thrill out of seeing its very gradual progression from old shed to teenage abode. At the moment the floor is still concrete and there are no blinds to keep the sun out, but Ming has just ordered both and paid half (he is working full-time now).

He doesn’t have ablutions over there, or cooking facilities, so he still has to come home a lot (ha – I still have the power at a distance of 50 metres!)

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Ming has moved out!

Around three, maybe four, years ago, on one of Anthony’s good days, he and I shifted a heap of junk out of a back shed because Ants had an idea that we could make this shed into a place for Ming.

Over time, we have gradually had it renovated and Ming slept there last night for the first time. He’s still allowed to come for dinner but if he misbehaves I can just tell him to go home – haha!

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An eventful year (1995)

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In 1995, I got a part-time job at the local university lecturing in creative writing.

In 1995, Anthony was diagnosed with kidney cancer and had his left kidney removed

In 1995, Ming turned one, was baptised, went from crawling to running, learned how to clean his teeth, got into the vroom of things, slept peacefully, learned how to wash a car, yell HURRAY, climb mountains and open his own Christmas presents.

But, of the three of us, I am the only one who remembers any of this now because Ants is too old and Ming was too young.

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