Changing – Havin a Chat

Pop and Mum Penguin (PP & MP) report.

I share because it helps me in a way and some of you have been asking about them and also K.

So… PP saw a new Neurologist and the results came back yesterday. He has a form of Parkinson’s which is called MSA Multiple Systems Atrophy – a rare form of Parkinson’s.

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/multiple-system-atrophy/basics/symptoms/con-20027096

I’m on my IPad so not sure if the link will actually work, for those who want to read further about it. The prognosis, needless to say isn’t good. Pop will deteriorate, as this disease affects the brain and spinal cord. His movement (which is now severely limited) will become worse. This disease will affect not only his walking, which he can barely do now, but also his muscles, his speech, his swallowing, amongst a list of other issues. Five in every 100,000 people are afflicted.

We don’t know how long he has actually had MSA but life span is approximately 7 years from diagnosis.

I cried last night reading up about it, medication will ‘help’ but not cure. I know being 88 he as they say has had a ‘good innings’, but it doesn’t make this any easier. We just have to make him as comfortable as possible and hope he doesn’t suffer too much in the time to come. He told me the other day, whilst I was pushing him in his wheelchair to their room, “I’m over all of this Ginger’ – I replied, “I know Pop and if you want to go, go… We will be o..k”.

Giving your parent, the one that you love so much, approval to just let go is heartbreaking, but I needed him to know.

MP is pretty much the same. There are the days of being cognitive and ok in her world, then there are the others.
At the moment she does not want to be showered regularly. Her hair is sticking to her head. Because of refusing to have it washed. I have asked her so many times, but she insists its not dirty…what can you do…

K is dating (men from the dating Internet site) it’s hard to keep up. She is stronger, but her memory has a bit to go before she is stable enough to look for work (which she can’t do till December). I got her to volunteer at an Aged Care Home, close to us. She has been once in 2 weeks, sadly getting her motivated is a huge task. Even getting out of bed in the morning. I knock on her bedroom door at 9, sometimes it 10.30 or later before she emerges. 😔 I have to give her, her medications daily or she’ll forget. It is like she is 9 again and mum comes to the rescue…that’s the role of a mum isn’t it?

Me? Well I’m doing alright considering. I had a tooth play up last week, the cold drink that sends you through the roof. I knew then the nerve was dying, so yesterday off to a new dentist and had it extracted (4 injections later). Luckily it was right at the back, as I refuse to look like Ma or Pa Kettle!

Services, I have done 93 and yes the wedding is on the 25th…the days are going too fast.

Thanks for reading..listening.
Hope all is well in your world.
x

Under Water

I’m dressed
water, fat, muscle, bone
makes up the me
say nothing of the heart
that beats ‘neath fine skin
a blade between ribs
would empty me
spill the empathy
that holds so heavy
I’m losing strength
to carry this
I see it now a burden
yet this is who I am

Not a day passes
when I don’t ‘feel’
I hear the calls
watch arms above the waterline
I know they’re drowning
friends say they can swim
strip the water, fat, muscle, bone
I can’t, I don’t believe them
I dive in regardless of the blade

Copyright JMTacken 11.2.2015

 

K still struggles, trying to find work, dealing with her BPD.

Tests from her seizure on the 21st December are still  being undertaken. The Neurologist said Epilepsy, but not conclusive until a further MRI and sleep deprived half day EEG are performed.

Pop is still in the Rehab Hospital, they are saying if he can stand out of the chair without assistance, or walk with his walker, with confidence , he may be able to go back home on the 19th, I can’t see this happening.

I visited him this afternoon and took him in the wheelchair to sit under the trees, as he hasn’t been out doors for 3 weeks.

Mr.S and I had a weekend away last weekend, but my mind is always elsewhere and it is draining me.

Thank you you for the emails and messages, I’m just tired and haven’t been able to concentrate on writing or reading your posts. I hope to soon. I hope you are all well, I have missed you.

x

 

A different style of Chat

Seeds and a

a face lit up showing basil shoots

sprouting that she planted

in a used glass jar

artworks displayed

car drive with chatter

lunch

smiles on the face

she ate Thai green curry

that blended with

the colour of her hair

we talked

then new clothes and shoes

her boots falling apart

warm weather on its way

a visit to the penguins

dropped back home

both enjoyed

my girl and I

 

K  had to cancel her outing with her sister, as she had locked the keys in her car and B/F J had gone to do a gardening job, taking the spare with him.

They have made another catch up date for next weekend. I am so happy.

I picked K up and we went for lunch, bought her some clothes and  summer shoes.

We then visited the penguins and I took her back home.

We had a good day, we laughed, we talked, we discussed B (her sister) and Borderline and what she experiences.

She was nervous about moving,  but today they went and saw J,  the wonderful lady who has offered them a room and she now feels a bit more comfortable about having to relocate again.

Mr. S and I  did 11 hours of non stop painting today. I have only just lain on the couch and every muscle and joint is starting to seize ugh! Tomorrow I have an hour massage a birthday gift from a girlfriend, then I am meeting her for lunch. I am SO looking forward to it!

Wednesday I have a Service to conduct in the afternoon, then visiting penguins again.

Thursday, Mr. S and I are flying to Nelson Bay in NSW to stay in a tree studio with spa, for 6 nights. I shall be taking my IPad, but if I don’t catch up on reading you all, or being around..well that’s the reason why.

🙂

x

 

Razor Blades (Prose)

I walk blades of glass
trying not to bleed

I walk gingerly
one day to the next

it tears at me
the line I tread

between what’s real
what’s not

screams as I am
on my knees

I cannot find my way
to help those who I love

to those who are in pain

together we walk
gingerly
‘cross glass blades

©jmtacken 19 Feb 2014

Photo Credit: Enterkey

Sheer Wonder ~ of You (Prose)

protected cocooned

within soft fluid

I held you

dreaming dreams floating

circling in the space

you held your own

to do with as you pleased

attached only by umbilical

gravity unknown

no centre universe

attracting you to earth

content to linger

till your time came

my hand held across my belly

felt you squirm and roll

punch and kick

watching as my skin popped

a visible sign of you

and there you were

through pain and squirming

of my own

bringing you to the world

saying my first hello

cradling you in my arms

kissing every inch of you

I will protect you

I  can’t cocoon you

I would give my life to save yours

my sheer wonder

my girl/s

©jmtacken Jan 26th 2014

Daughter # 2 Kayla

Daughter # 1 Beck and her husband Eug

Shared with –

mindlovemisery.wordpress.com  Prompt 40

Writing anything on – Sheer Wonder

Like it was yesterday (Prose)

Grace,ethereal & dream were 3 words kindly given to me by http://whocouldknowthen.wordpress.com

Thank you and I hope you enjoy.   Please listen to the music as you read.

with grace she enters from the dressing room
captivating those that turn,  their lipstick stained glasses
held in hand and some gentlemen who sit on couches
sideways glance to hold her beauty in their eyes

[youtube.com/watch?v=rIBRcQdzWQs]

too ethereal for this world, angelically she softly glides
and takes her place in front of the mirror that can’t
reflect the beauty she holds inside
satin shoes,  dress of lace that waterfalls
around her feet

her dream,  on the verge of being fulfilled
my dream ~ her happiness and I wonder does she notice
the tears that well,  the inner glow of love I simply feel
watching as she turns and almost pirouettes
across the floor

a young girl now grown
a life to live away from home
my eyes soak in her beauty ~ yet there is a sadness
as her new life begins,  away from sheltered arms that
held her close,  wiped her tears,  raised her through the years

words that even now are hard to write
though it’s been some time since that day
my baby,  my first born child,  the dress that fitted
like a glove,  the tears of joy that trickled down her
porcelain skin

this memory will remain with me of how I felt
back then ~ the picture in my mind I shall
take that to my grave and in these moments
the years flow past my eyes ~ her first steps
her first words, her engaging smile

this elegant young woman
with a smile as wide as a crescent moon
before a veil is placed to complete the look
and as she turns to me
I see the utter joy across her face

her gown,  this day,  she is ready
she has chosen what she is to wear
her happiness impossible to hide
and I smile a reassuring smile… a mother to daughter’s love
a mothers’ pride ~ just the way you are

For any mother or perhaps father seeing their daughter in her wedding dress for the first time.

 

Beck

Mother’s Day – Perhaps this is from a child’s view?

I didn’t see your smiling face when you found out you were pregnant with me, or how you held your tummy protectively.   I didn’t see you laugh when I first kicked the inside of you or I had the hiccups.

I didn’t know the pain you went through to have me, nor did I hear your screams, or see your tears, or feel the injection in your spine to numb the pain.  I didn’t see you push and pant and try to breathe as my body wanted to come out of yours.   I didn’t know that you moved around the bed and room in every position you could think of trying to ease the pain of the contractions that wracked through your body.    I didn’t see you get upset when your milk first came in or realise that hormones were racing through your body and how you thought you couldn’t cope with this little human being that was your daughter.

I didn’t see the stitches you had to have, or the salt baths you had to take to help your discomfort. I didn’t know you cried when you left the hospital for your special treat dinner,  whilst I lay in my hospital crib or that you couldn’t finish your food because you just wanted to get back to me.

I didn’t see you sob for endless nights because I had to have a plaster cast  on my both my legs as my hips were ‘not quite right’, or the frustration that completely overwhelmed you.   I didn’t see you pace the corridor in the hospital, mascara smudging your face from so many tears,  when something went wrong with my hip and I had to have an operation.

I was unaware…but I loved you

You heard me crying in the middle of the night but I didn’t see your eyes closed or you rubbing them to try and wake you.   I did not know what time it was, I only knew that I was hungry.   I didn’t see you stumble from your bed and grab your dressing gown as you quietly entered my room.    I felt you lift me from my cot, warm from the blankets you had wrapped around me to keep me from the cold, but I saw you through my tears and hunger, I saw your smiling face and heard you whisper ‘Ssh little one…I know”. I drank from you, though I did not realise how you fed me.

I didn’t know the words you whispered “Do you know how much I love you” as you held my tiny hand.  I drank warm milk that nourished me and filled my empty tummy and when I was full and half asleep you carried me to my bed and tucked me safely back in and I felt your lips kiss my cheek and forehead and heard you say  “Goodnight my darling”.

I was unaware….but I loved you

I didn’t know that you cried when you took me for my first injection or understood when you told the doctor “I wish it was me that was having this, not her”.   I did not know that you were frustrated with me when I couldn’t settle at night because I had strong pains in my tummy from colic and how tired you were from lack of sleep or how hopeless you felt that you couldn’t stop my pain.

I was unaware…but I loved you

I didn’t witness your tears as you walked back to the car on my first day of school. I was excited and rushed off into my classroom and gave you a wave. I don’t remember saying “You can go home now mum, I’m a big girl”.   My lunches were made each day and a treat was packed for my morning play, I didn’t know it was you.  I saw your smiling face every day when school finished, waiting at the gate to pick me up.   I remember coming home in the midst of winter to a warm house and dry clothes and a towel to dry my hair and something nice to eat.   I remember the stories you would read to me as you sat on my bed and how I pleaded for you to read it over and over again.

I was becoming aware…and I loved you

I didn’t see you pace the floor when I was out at a party or how worried you were when I got my license and drove my first car.   I didn’t see your tears as you hoped that I would be safe on the roads and come home in one piece. I didn’t know that you lay in bed, glancing at the clock every few minutes, waiting to hear the front door open and my footsteps walk down the passage-way.

I was becoming aware…and I loved you

I saw the tears in your eyes when I grew up, the time that I left home.   I didn’t know that the last lot of clothes that I threw in the laundry basket that you would end up washing would make you cry, or see the tears fall down your face as you walked around my empty bedroom. I didn’t really know that you would suffer or feel pain at not having me there anymore.

I was aware…I love you

I saw the tears on my wedding day and the pride in your face as you watched me take my vows and begin my life with my new husband. I didn’t know that you wished your little girl could remain your little girl for ever.

I am aware ….I love you

My eldest who is overseas with her husband for 4 months posted this on FB this morning for Mothers Day (she is currently in South America).  I miss her, but she is having a fabulous time. This prompted my piece today.

~~~

Through the pain of childbirth you brought me to this world
you protected and fed me and covered my scratches with band aids
kissed me to make it better and it was
you held my hand to cross the road
you hugged me when I was sad
tried to take away my tears
when I was hurting inside
you did all of these things
and so much more…because you are a mum

HAPPY MOTHER’s DAY TO ALL OF MY READERS AND TO MUMS OF CHILDREN OR FUR-BABIES EVERYWHERE.

100 word Song Challenge – I Won’t Back Down

[youtube.com/watch?v=1G4ustq-kmQ&feature= A & w=640h=385]

My contribution to the Challenge set by 100 word Song. Written in the time it took for the song to start and end …so bare with me.

No I won’t back
down my daughters
when your anger
gets the better
of you
when you feel that
I am wrong in
what I say
I will stand my ground
to show you
how my love is strong

so get red faced
and yell and scream
as perhaps I shall
do in return
but I do this for
I love you

I’m your mother
this is my job
to try and show you
what you may have
done or said
is a little wrong

think of me what
you will
my words won’t be
taken back
you may hate me now
but in time you’ll
learn

your mother’s
always right….. 🙂

I want

I want to play mum again, have my girls rely on me
not grown up and independent

I want to be able to dress them in pretty clothes and
do their hair

I want to be able to guide them when danger approaches
to hold their hand or them hold mine

I want to see their beaming smiles when I tell them how
they have made me laugh

I want to be able to give them the cuddles that I did when
they were tiny

I want to hear their problems and ask me for advice
and accept what I say

I want the closeness we shared, the giggles we had, the
times when we would dance

I want to feel that they can come to ‘mum’ when they
are troubled or upset

I want to play mum again when we shared so many
special moments

I want to be involved in their lives instead of being
the mum who is ‘just there’

I want to be thought of wise and able to help them
in time of need

I want to have them hug me and tell me they love me
just because they want to

I want to know that I have brought them up to be
beautiful young women

I want to know that when I’m gone that they have
thought me as someone special
I want….or am I wanting too much

Becoming a Mum…male followers you have my permission to retreat

I was reading one of the Blogs that I follow http://wonderlandbytatu.wordpress.com

A mum with 2 children, whose honesty like so many others mums I follow and love inspired me to do this… an excerpt from my Memoir (through Amazon and Lulu if anyone is interested in reading further).

24th March 1983

Here I am lying in bed in the hospital. I am to be induced tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. I have had the obligatory enema and mini shave, thinking, “My God, this is only the beginning of any embarrassment or degradation—tomorrow morning I will bearing much more to the world.

At 5 a.m. on the 25^th March, I woke up in a hospital bed and was served a mandatory cup of tea by a smiling, whispering nurse. By 7.35 a.m. I was wheeled into the delivery room. As I lay on the pristine, starched white sheets, staring at the ceiling and the fluorescent lights above me, my thoughts were ones of terror. I was now scared to death as to what lay before me. To make things worse, the paediatrician who was supposed to guide me through the birth with the hypnotherapy did not arrive, so the prospect of going through childbirth “à la natural” was now frightening me beyond belief.

I was placed on the drip at 8.40 a.m. To the hour, my first contraction hit at 9.40 a.m. Even though the paediatrician had given me a few lessons on self-hypnotherapy, I could not concentrate long enough to guide myself through it. The idea of a needle protruding through my arm now seemed far more preferable to labour.

By 2 p.m., the contractions were physically overpowering me and I didn’t think I could handle much more. I tried everything I could to ease the pain; lying on one side, then on the other, knees bent up to my chest, straightened legs, on all fours, standing leaning over the bed, grabbing hold of the sheets, walking around the bed, squeezing John’s hand till I almost drew blood.

The pain of childbirth, though mercifully and miraculously erased so quickly in one’s mind after the event, looms like an undefeatable spectre when you are in the throes of it. My original intent to try for a drug-free birth ended up with me screaming, “OK, I give in! Give me an epidural!” I don’t even think I said please!

Fortunately for John I didn’t yell abuse at him, as some women are known to do. I pitied him standing beside me. He was helpless, looking upon my writhing body that seemed possessed by demonic forces.

“Do you want ice chips to suck on, darling? Would you like a shoulder rub? A back rub? Or should I just leave the room perhaps and come back when you’re done?”

The straightforward truth is that no matter what a husband might suggest or offer in his endeavor to try and alleviate your misery, he cannot help you. You are alone in the battle. You are the one who is grimacing, panting, squirming and bearing the discomfort and the pain. And when you look up at his unhappy face, knowing that he probably wishes he were anywhere else but watching you, all you can do for each other is hold hands.

The anaesthetist came in; I rolled onto my left side and he inserted a needle into my back. By this stage a small pin-prick in my spine was more inviting than a glass of champers and a full body massage administered by George Clooney. It was miraculous how quickly the epidural took effect. With each contraction, although I felt some sensation, I felt no pain and only the overwhelming desire to push, usually at inappropriate intervals when I should have been panting. My doctor arrived at 4.55 p.m., and with the help of forceps and my legs high in the stirrups, baring all and sundry to the brightly lit room, my baby daughter entered this world, weighing in at 7lb (3.175kgs).

Here was this tiny human being we had created. A miracle, perfection in every way, with ten fingers and ten toes, her head covered with dark hair, her body coated in vernix. I was overcome with a euphoria you feel after you have given birth, one of life’s natural highs that you could never dream to be possible. She was placed on my stomach as I cried tears of excitement, joy and gratitude for how beautiful and perfect she was.

We had decided to call her Lauren, and now that we beheld her tiny face, the name seemed to fit her exactly.

When she was taken away for the “cleaning up” process, John and I were left alone to exchange private words and to somehow articulate the event that had just taken place. In the space of those moments, we tried to come to grips with the fact that we now had a daughter, that we were now not a couple but a family, and to contemplate how our lives would change forever.

Even though I was totally exhausted, I could not settle and was absolutely famished. I tucked into a huge plate of sandwiches and a cup of tea while Lauren was attended to by the nursing staff. She was then brought back to us and shortly afterwards was put to my breast to suckle the colostrum. All I wanted to do from this moment on was to hold her close, look at her, touch her and smell her. I felt an instant and unshakable determination to love this little person unconditionally from the very first time she was handed to me, wrapped snuggly in the baby blankets that I had bought months before. My instinct told me that all I wanted on this earth was to be able to protect her from this day onwards from any harm or misfortune, for as long as humanly possible.