I've decided to be very clinical about life this month.
So. I have to get my hand chopped open. There will be blood and veins and nerves and sinew and skin and all sorts of yukky things. It is all going to be so disgusting that I have to start thinking like this now as part of the psyching up process. I have an image of the operation as my screen saver.
And if I accidentally come to during the procedure I don't want any surprises.
I want to know exactly what to expect.
When the day finally comes I will be mentally prepared.
My friend who also requires something chopped open suggested we try for a 'two for one' offer.
I told her that would be very nice as long as we don't have to share the anaesthetic.
Bugger that.
I have started practicing doing everything with my left hand.
I need to practice a little harder I think.
And I am very worried about the abrupt halt it will bring to my great swimming comeback.
I have tried to kick up the lane with a kick board - with one arm in the air wrapped in glad wrap.
Well that was embarrassing.
I need to practice a little harder I think.
The hair thing has gotten me completely rattled.
I'm good with the throw your head down and blow with enthusiam.
But it's the coming up that's abit messy.
I think it's all going to be abit of a one sided affair.
My colleagues offered to take good care of me - as long as it only involved food hampers. Stew.
But even that was quickly rescinded when it was discovered it could well be holiday time.
My lovely neighbour, my partner in surveillance crime offered to look after me, cook for me.
Until he suddenly remembered he 'had to go to Thailand' sometime around then. I told him I was dumping him.
This conversation raised a few eyebrows in the lift.
My boss offered to take me in. She's a mother. She'd take good care of me.
If she wasn't going to be in Hong Kong. She has limited availability.
And of course my Mum, who is already worrying about this little of life's adventure is desperate to book her flight yesterday. I don't even have a date yet. Or still?
I did have a date but he literally disappeared into thin air. FIFO?
Mum feels since she made the initial diagnosis of Carpal Tunnel she needs to be there to see the process through.
My Doctor sent me to a Neurologist to do the nerve testing. I paid him $400 and he told me I had severe Carpal Tunnel.
I said I know - my Mum told me that and made me tea and a quilt gratis.
The day I opened the door between the hallway and reception and got the most excruciating electric shock up my arm kind of confirmed it also.
That caused a small frisson of interest to the potential parents waiting in reception.
The Principal's Assistant is a screamer.
The one thing I AM really looking forward to is discussing with the Surgeon (not while he's chopping me open mind you - he needs to concentrate) is whether he can do a little freshening up of my Love Line. If he can find it.
I'm worried that with the loss of circulation and all those electrical interferences that all those beautiful heartfelt feelings I use to have for all sorts of things have faded away.
1st February 2015
I do think that one week after your birthday is always a good time for a little reflection.
Last Sunday was my birthday.
I leapt out of bed with my usual enthusiasm. Lies don't count in the week following your birthday. (I just made that up.)
Let's be honest. I just lay there for a while trying to conjure up a warm crusty buttery croissant - and a steaming hot coffee. God if I could find a bloke who would bring me a warm buttery croissant and a steaming hot coffee every Sunday morning he would be a very very very happy bloke. Very.
But I am a dreamer.
Always have been, always will be.
Speaking of blokes, if you whiled away a few bored moments reading my Christmas blog you will recall my reflections on the whole ghastly RSVP business. It wasn't for me. But encouraged by my lovely cousin and his lovely lady and several other friends of high integrity I decided to give it one last shot.
To my immense surprise I found a very nice man. A Pilot. A Captain. He seemed to have a lovely outlook on life. He seemed fun and he seemed clever and he seemed decent. And he seemed quite taken with me. We spoke of when we could meet - and our stars were aligned. He sent me pictures of himself from here and from there, around Australia and the globe and I believed he was genuine.
I truly did. And I guess I still do.
I was nervously excited. And I don't think I was imagining that he was keen.
So I waited for him to confirm the time and place.
And nothing.
Waited a little longer.
Still a big fat nothing.
Still waiting.
And still a great big fat bloody nothing.
I'm under no illusions that there was a much shinier star than I out there in his galaxy but the anonymity of RSVP does not mean that feelings don't figure into the equation.
It was all very confusing and so very hurtful.
But maybe I just wanted him to be someone he's not.
On reflection maybe God has no immediate plans for me.
(Two days later after writing this blog - all is forgiven.
Said Captain seems to have re-aligned his co-ordinates and who knows where this flight plan may take us. I am ever so cautiously excited.
One week later .. There was no flight plan, and on reflection there most likely was never going to be one. I'm almost as numb as my carpal tunnel hand and fingers. Silly silly me.)
To be honest I was actually wide awake the night the calendar slipped over to January 25. (seriously pondering whether I should get up and make a cup of tea - oh God I have become my Nanna)
I was actually woken up by my family calling from the home land to wish me a Happy Birthday.
Which was very nice. Had it happened an hour later.
So up I got, popped on the kettle and read for a little while. I completed all the important 'admin' for the day like reading junk emails, replying to text messages, checking Facebook for new Nutribullet recipes and making a few winning moves on Words with Friends.
To be honest again, my heart's a little lost to playing Words since they told me at Christmas 'Santa' was not a word.
I decided to take myself down to Church Street for a birthday coffee and a very small birthday flutter.
And that was when it all began. Like not there one minute and there the next.
I thought I felt a twinge but I wasn't quite sure?
It started getting stiffer and stiffer and stiffer and stiffer.
It wasn't the first time this had happened to me but it has been quite a while.
If you have ever experienced it you will know what I mean.
I was starting to feel a little shaky.
Having lived this scenario before I sensed what was about to come.
Back into bed I very gingerly hopped.
And come it did.
Then I started to panic.
Because my lovely colleagues had rallied for my birthday and we were due to rendezvous in 6 hours for a rowdy night of Paella and Mojitos in Bay Street.
And to add insult to injury I had the cutest new frock, a new heart necklace, new lipstick and most thrillingly - new eyelashes!
It wasn't great.
My poor tender back - it began to sieze up.
And sieze up it did.
Since January 1st I have been back in the pool.
Almost every day, I have swum swum swum.
I have been so committed.
And it's been superb.
The school pool. After hours.
The only perk in having the master key trust me.
It's luxury. 8 lanes to choose from.
A little oasis of white lined heaven.
The only condition is that for O H & S you are not allowed to swim alone.
So I conned and cajoled my little pal Patsy to swim with me.
On the 1st of January Patsy did not enjoy swimming. Not at all.
Unlike me she is not at home in the wet.
The first day she did 5 laps to my 20.
And she didn't have that euphoric glow!
However - as of two days ago she is now doing 23 laps to my 35.
Words cannot even begin to explain how proud I am of her and her new found love of the water.
On reflection we are both glowing.
When I was a little girl my Grandad taught swimming.
He was a powerful swimmer. Both in the surf and the pool.
I actually don't remember learning to swim.
I think I just woke up one day and breathing bi-laterally off I went.
He used to teach swimming in many places, all advertised in the local 'rag' as it was known in those days.
'Mr Daley's Swimming Classes'.
Mooloolaba River on such and such a day.
Buderim Pool on such and such a day.
Tuckers Creek on such and such a day.
My Nanna (the one I am fast becoming) used to sit on the beach chair with the ice cream container collecting the fees. I think it was like 20 cents per hour, maybe less for two children. I can't remember exactly, clearly it was more for the love of swimming than to pay the bills.
As a small aside - my Grandad bought my Nanna a cup of tea in bed every single morning of their lives where possible. They were married for 62 years.
My brother does the same for his wife. Some lessons are easily learnt.
Even the smallest gesture of kindness is a reflection of love.
Of all the places Grandad taught swimming Tuckers Creek was my favourite. Tuckers Creek is a tributary of the Mooloolaba River.
In the 60's and 70's it was just that. A creek.
Now it is a 'canal' with luxury homes on both sides.
It was wide enough to swim from one side to the other but not as wide as the river, where little arms could get 'puffed' half way across!
Grandad was unconventional in his teaching methods.
Prior to retirement he was an auto electrician for General Motors Holden.
He had access to the inner tubes of old car tyres.
Kind of like having the master key I guess.
When these are semi inflated they are the perfect size to fit around the middle of little bellies, unencumbered, enabling the dog paddling arms and the kicking - or as Grandad would always say "to get that outboard motor working".
On reflection hundreds and hundreds of very lucky Queensland children and indeed the interstate holiday makers were taught to swim by Mr Daley in the river and the creek - no O H & S Act required.
On further reflection of the more painful kind, I wonder if over the past month I have burnt out my own outboard motor?
Last Friday I took myself off to the Day Spa.
Thank you to my family for stumping up for that!
I had never been to the Day Spa before
(although vanity prevails and my own
bathroom virtually IS a day spa and I don't care what anyone says!).
I was scrubbed and polished and exfoliated and waxed and oiled and clipped and painted and Lord knows what else, it was so delicious I was in a blissful state of semi-unconsciousness.
The young lady kept asking me if I was alright.
I just kept replying "lovely."
To which she responded, "Awesome".
I wonder when the word 'awesome' will be done with.
I'm growing a little weary of it.
She was a sweet girl but lamented her oily olive skin.
Thirty five years ago I too lamented my oily olive skin.
I shared with her the words of wisdom given to me back then - In many years to come you will be forever thankful for your oily olive skin.
On reflection indeed I am.
She had very strong hands. She applied quite a lot of pressure to my lower back which when she asked if I was alright I replied "lovely", to which she replied "awesome".
On reflection it might not have been so "awesome".
So with a heavy heart I sent a text message to the gang to cancel the Paella Party. They offered to bring the party to me.
But I was not even up for that. I was very sad and there were many tears.
Even sadder was of the two cards I had received at that time, one had a princess kissing a frog on the front and the other one was best wishes from my Chiropractor. I spent the rest of the day in bed wishing either were with me.
On reflection it was kinda funny!
Hello Monday morning and mobility was slightly restored.
Happy Australia Day us!
We all rallied once more.
The most exquisite of yesterday's cake and icey cold bubbles on the balcony of the Pineapple Shack.
The new frock, the new heart necklace, the new lipstick and the new eyelashes all came out to play. Albeit very tenderly.
My entire life I have been blessed with wonderful friends.
And I am indeed blessed that my latest gang have a penchant for French Champagne! How lucky am I?
And let me tell you - a couple of glasses of Billecart-Salmon and sorry what back pain?
Speaking of lucky - my lovely boss the Principessa gave me a lovely handbag and in it for good luck she tossed an old Halfpenny she had found among her personal treasures. And no lie (even though it still is the week after my birthday when lies don't count) IT WAS A 1962 coin! Entirely unplanned! How auspicious!
For my 21st birthday I was given a beautiful dinner set along with all sorts of eclectic coloured glasses that just seem to make everything taste just that little bit more indulgent! That dinner set has travelled with me the entire length of the east coast of Australia and the majority of time it was kept "for best".
Last year it came out and though a little faded with a few chips "for best" is now every single day. In the 32 years I have had that dinner set I have only ever lost two of the precious pieces.
On reflection I think that could also be true of my life.
I had a wonderful birthday.
Because birthday's are not just for the day. They are for the day after and they are for a lifetime. To look back and to bravely look forward with grace and hope.
And sometimes even though it is very challenging and certainly grinds you down, to remember that every day is to bring out the "for best".
I have found this hillbilly version of 'Forever Young' and I love it and I hope you do too.
I hope YOU bring out your "for best" birthday this year.
On reflection, with love.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaPEe4EwTEU
