A lesson in life as lemons

Lately Raine and I have been so used to shit happening we’ve referred to bad events of the day as ‘a punch in the face.’ At its peak there was at least ‘one punch in the face’ everyday, and when something bad happened we would sign and ask, ‘is that our punch in the face for the day (meaning, ‘can we get on without injury now’)?’. I strongly believe that people are more involved in determining their luck than random situations are – it’s outlook, and I’m a firm advocate of the ‘if life gives you lemons...’ school of thought. Thankfully Raine is too, so while we recognised that lady luck wasn’t exactly smiling down on us, we tried to find a silver lining (I will use every fortune metaphor possible in this blog). Not easy when fraud appears on your bank account, your dad’s had a stroke, you don’t have a home of your own, family members are losing it and dragging you down with them, University is breathing down your neck, your manic depression decides it’s time to say hello...just a few examples.

I think it’s testament to our strength (Raine says that together we are much greater than the sum of our parts, and I think she’s right) that we’ve ridden through everything. We’ve mostly laughed (slightly hysterically at times) at our fortune. Then, every time something good presents itself we’ve held it aloft and celebrated it as if England had won the World Cup.

So, those good things...well I’m not going to get pregnant. My doctor put me on the Pill, so ’the clothes I’m wearing from now on are going to take up a little less yardage.’ You can’t be too careful. Ah, it’s going to take me a while to tire of this joke...but seriously, as I said earlier, my manic depression reared its head. I’ve been watching my moods really closely since I started feeling my grip on sanity loosening, and it seemed it was largely connected to my monthly cycle, so I’ve been put on the pill. It seems to be helping, too...and such a relief knowing we won’t be hearing the pitter patter of little feet;-)

My dad’s doing great, and I mean great! When he goes out he doesn’t even take a stick anymore, and yesterday he was given the ok to drive. He just needs to have an eye test, and inform the insurance company, then he’s off - driving. This was such a distant hope when the Stroke first struck. He’s writing again (he already has one post-Stroke play under his belt, and it’s a good one!), cooking his own meals...everything. He really is an inspiration – I think he needs to give talks to people who’ve had Strokes. I think back to that first moment, when I saw him in the hospital – he couldn’t swallow or sit up straight, he couldn’t see properly, he couldn’t talk normally (he’d lost some use of his vocal chords so he sounded croaky) he didn’t walk for over a week and then only supervised for short distances with a frame. It’s less than two months later and look at him – it’s amazing.

My dad’s really inspired me, his will to survive and conquer. I’ve cleaned up my life (I’ve largely quit drinking (though this was for a number of reasons, which I might go into in a another entry)), and taken a look at what’s important, and who I am.

Yesterday we left for Newquay (we’re in a ‘Day’s Inn’ motel near Bristol (I’m up insanely early and Raine’s sleeping)), and I feel nervous. I keep likening my feelings to parents who leave their babies for the first time. This is unfair to my dad – obviously I don’t think of him as a baby (these are important distinctions to make when you’re talking about someone who’s had a Stroke – so many people talk down to Stroke victims, as if they’re slightly simple now) – but I’m scared of what might happen while I’m away. This is irrational, and I know he’s going to be fine, but...I will be ringing everyday. Driving here yesterday evening I asked at one point if it was too soon to ring, the answer was yes – we’d been gone an hour and a half! Newquay is going to be good, though – kicking back in our old home, surfing and chilling.

We got our first ever Ipod yesterday – it’s very pretty, in midnight blue, with 1560 songs on. The deposit came back from our old house, and so I treated us in time for the epic Newquay drive. It came with a free speaker-docking station, so it’s pretty funky – it seems to have taken a while for MP3’s to translate into communal listening. In some ways being poor is good (and I recognise that my definition of being poor is relative!) – it makes you appreciate little things so much. Now the weather’s nice Raine and I have a hat, filled with slips of paper, each one is a different, ‘fun free thing to do’...most things in there are brilliant –a game of Frisbee on the beach, a bike ride at sunset...

Well, that’s all for now. Happy Easter everyone! I hope you have a wonderful sun-filled break. I’ll probably update while in Newquay, maybe in picture journal form.