I can hardly wait! Again!

                          

Do you remember reading that I was disappointed because the bath lift chair I bought could not fit under the bath tap? I had to sell it..

Well today my Occupational Therapist from my Aged Care Package came for a visit to our new home and brought the mobility gentleman with her. He had a lift chair with him and we did a dry run... and it went very well.

The bathroom tap did not get caught in my leg and I was able to lower the seat right to the bottom of  the bath. One has been ordered for me and I am very happy.

I am also happy because I have been told that I can get a mobility scooter in the near future which is cause for celebration... very happy to be getting one, but more excited about the bath lift...

As I said a couple of years ago, I can hardly wait! 

We give You thanks

                                                

"We Give You Thanks"

Lord, as we gather at this table
May we be truly grateful
For the bounty You have given us.
We thank you for the earth and rain,
The good harvest and the wholesome grain
That went into our daily bread
And kept the stock that kept us fed.
Thank you for the hands that cooked and baked,
And for the water that our thirst slaked.
Please accept our thanks as we honour You
For Your goodness in giving us this food.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of [our] lips giving thanks to his name. Hebrews 13:15

Rome wasn't built in a day!

 

As you probably know, we have recently moved again. It is almost complete with just a few boxes to unpack.

We are so very tired and I have exacerbated fibromyalgia and angina pain.

We love this new house and is still quite large like the one we have just left. But honestly, I really hope we dont have to move again because I feel quite done in.

Most things now have found a new home, but as soon as I recover from the move, I will declutter and organise our things better.

So I am finding myself falling asleep at the computer or feeling really razzed, and I have had to have a nana nap during the day or I won't have enough spoons to cook dinner...

And speaking of dinner, I have been making use of my slow cooker to help me when I haven't got any spoons. It has helped take the pressure off me.

Lately having no spoons is my new normal so I have had to rest and pace myself. 

Something this move has taught me is to be patient. I have had to learn to wait until others are able to help me and my new mantra is "Rome wasn't built in a day!"

Part of your tribe

Sadly, I walk the lonely path of mental illness and chronic illness and it can be a lonely path.

However, I have been blessed with a caring and gentle husband who stays beside me and who has my back. It is such a comfort to know that his love isn't conditional on how fast I spin my wheel.

If you have someone like that in your life, consider yourself blessed. In this cold and crazy old world, it's hard to find a good heart.

Thank God for people who support us in our illness or disability- they truly are God given. Cherish them. They are kindred spirits and part of your tribe...

Memories of a vintage housekeeper

 

My mother was a good homemaker. Some of my earliest memories were of her hanging out washing on her long line held up by props.  She used to boil up the copper and honestly, she had the whitest washing ever.  She used Rinso to wash the clothes and Lux Flakes for delicates.

When I was really young, we didn't have hot water on tap, so Mum would boil up the kettle, fill the sink- a single sink- and she used a metal cage thing- pictured here with slivers of Velvet soap in it to soap up the water. Steel wool was the go for saucepans and the plates were washed with a foam rubber sponge.

Whilst she was washing the dishes, she would have the kettle on again to rinse them. Then we children would dry them for her. We had metered gas by way of a machine with a coin slot in it in the laundry. When the gas got low, Mum would put sixpence or a shilling in it...

We all bathed daily and our hot water was heated by way of a chip heater over the bath. I can still remember fighting over who was the child who was to be seated under it. It was scary to a kid's mind. In fact, I sometimes still dream of it- making sure the water tap was on before lighting the pilot light.

Pride of place in our living room was the clothes horse aka clothes airer. Mum was very careful to air all our clothes and she spent quite a lot of time arranging clothes on it daily.

Mum had it tough too because we four children were bed wetters. She worked very hard to keep up with it all. 

With all her neighbours finishing their chores by 9am, poor Mum was still washing the sheets. In fact, when they called on her for a cuppa, she would be flustered because she was inundated with work.

Mondays Mum "did through".  She vacuumed, dusted, cleaned the bath and toilet and ironed. She also polished the linoleum in the kitchen with her Hoover polisher. It was quite a chore, with applying polish, buffing it with the machine then redoing it with the lambswool pads.  Her Monday routine was as regular as the sun coming up in the morning. 

Everyday, she would also make the beds, do her washing, think about what was for tea that night, clean her kitchen and sweep the carpets with a carpet sweeper. Routines were written in stone.

Mum didn't have a car, in fact Dad didn't even have one. She would catch the bus into town and shop for groceries which were delivered to our house. No plastic bags: the bags were brown paper...

I remembered how hard she worked the day I held her gnarled hand as she passed. She certainly loved her home and family... 

I am so glad that God honours the hardworking woman. In writing her eulogy, I included that well-known and loved verse from Proverbs 31 and when it was read, everyone of us nodded our heads in agreement and acknowledgement. She was blessed. 

Memories of a well kept house we were never ashamed to call home will always be dear, along with the memories of a tired but diligent homemaker and her wonderful serving of our family, and then her  second husband's. 

Yes, they're happy memories of a vintage housekeeper

First we have coffee!

 

As you probably know, my twin sister is ill and has been living with us for the last five months.

She has now moved into her own new rented home and my son, her carer has moved in with her. She's in need of a carer.

Helping her has left both Chris and I spoonless and that condition is not going to improve any time soon. We have now found a new rented home two minutes away from them and the move is happening in a few weeks.

Although we feel the effort will be worth it, finding the spoons to move is a hit or miss thing. I must force myself to keep going.

I am suffering from an expected fibromyalgia flare, my knees are hurting and I cannot move my neck thanks to polymyalgia rheumatica. 

I am happy to be moving but not so good with the pain. But I pace myself taking frequent breaks and drinking endless cups of tea.

My kettle is constantly boiling for a cuppa and it is the first thing I do each day. I join millions of others in enjoying to lifting qualities of coffee or tea to start each day.

Like I read in a book, "First we have coffee!", it has proven to be true for me, only my lifting beverage is tea! 

Enough acid to rival Chernobyl

 

I have been on Somac for GERD for at least 20 years and I have just learned that it has been allegedly responsible for giving stomach cancer and kidney disease to many users.

Honestly, I don't know what to do and so I have made an appointment with my doctor next week to discuss it.

My GERD causes me to aspirate my acid and stomach contents thus inducing aspiration pneumonia three times so far. I am now in a dilemma to know what to do.

There's been a class action in Australia and it seems that many people have suffered after taking it. I will update after I have discussed it with my doctor.

Honestly, it's a bad time to stop using them with being stressed, tired and fighting a long fibromyalgia flare. I pump out enough acid to rival Chernobyl's meltdown.

Shanks as pony

So today I handed in my driving licence. Sitting here tonight, the enormity of my decision and resultant actions gave me pause to think.

The fact that I have torn ligaments in both knees meant that I no longer have enough strength to apply the brakes or accelerator. I have become a danger to myself and others.

With constant brain fog from fibromyalgia as well, I felt it was time to stop driving.

Vic Roads sent me paperwork to have my doctor and optometrist clear me to keep driving as I suffer from type 2 diabetes and that can effect the eyes.

I was going to get this done but then I realised that my eyes are not the only risk when I drive- my knees not working is as great a risk.

So instead of going to get my eyes checked, I decided to just stop driving. As I said, I handed my licence into Vic Roads.

And now, I am sitting wondering if I have done the right thing- yet I know I really had no choice.

There is always the option of walking around if I have no one to drive me somewhere... it is known as shanks as pony- using one's legs as the mode of transport.

Herein lies the problem with that- there is no shanks as pony, because I can't walk with torn ligaments that can't be fixed.

I hadn't thought much about it until now, but here it is- no driver, no car, no money- and sadly now, no shanks as pony!

Sufficient to the day

 

As  a woman who suffers from chronic illness and pain through fibromyalgia,  I often succumb to bouts of depression. I have a few tips on overcoming it. 

First and foremost, start your day in prayer. Ask God for the strength to face the day and play worship music to lift your spirit.

Try to be in the moment and take one day at a time. That's all we can tackle otherwise, the sense of failure can be overwhelming. We aren't meant to take it on all at once.

If you try to just focus on the next task at hand and not dwell on the future, it will help your attitude to realise that you have accomplished something. It will then snowball as you progress through the day.

With chronic illness, I set myself just one or two daily goals that are achievable: for me it is wash the dishes and put away the clean clothes. I only focus on those goals that I know are achievable and if at the end of the day, they are done, then I feel a sense of accomplishment instead of defeat.

Nothing depresses me more than a feeling that I have achieved nothing all day. I don't worry that others may say "for goodness sake, it's only washing dishes..." for us in the throes of illness, be it mental or physical- it's a big deal. Delight yourself in small victories.

I find that in setting small goals it knocks the cloud of gloom off its perch and makes me hopeful that I will be able to rise above the depression. Give yourself a high five and see that any job you do is a step in the right direction. It still blesses your family and serves the LORD. 

I think when we are depressed and/or in pain, the desire to go Home to the LORD is strong. After all, we are tired of living in a world of pain and we look forward to our redemption. But in saying that, we still have a work to do until that time. 

As FlyLady says, baby steps. But just taking baby steps lead us out of our rut and it is that first baby step that will hasten our healing of depression and sense of failure. 

  Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof. Matthew 6:34 

It is what it is! indeed!

 

In my efforts to still be mistress of my home in spite of severe health issues, I have tried to pare down my necessary daily tasks.

I can forgo doing the washing for a day or two. I can not make my bed or do much cleaning. But every single day I find I must cook, which is a necessity that brings the second necessity of the day: doing the dishes.

Oh I have left them before during a fibromyalgia flare. But I have learned that they seem to multiply like rabbits- my kitchen sink and bench are testimony to this!

I have left the dishes until the morning or even until the evening, but the mess on the plates and cutlery makes the job not only labourious, but "yucky". So I have learned to keep abreast of them.

Now I know some people use paper plates to avoid doing the dishes, but I am old school. Besides, everything tastes better on a china plate or in a glass or cup. I detest polystyrene cups or picnic cups.

Occasionally during a bout of angina or fibromyalgia or even a day of back pain, I am happy to order take away meals... but it is such a nasty blow to the budget that this is rather rare.

So then I am now convinced that I must acquiesce to doing the dishes daily as we absolutely must eat- there's nothing else I can do about it except cook.

Finding two daily essential jobs wasn't easy because there are so many more things one could count as essential. 

More over, one thing chronic illness has taught me is that spoons dictate not only one's lifestyle but standards.

One can either accept less high standards or die trying to sustain them. And given the effort in just breathing and being some days, the standards become more achievable.

I have had to accept what the young ones say, "It is what it is!"  Indeed! It is!