Rolling waves

I can’t believe we are here I say to Mr H with a grin. A whole week, we won’t need to use the car.

We stroll hand in hand along the narrow, cottage filled lane to the sea front. I stop as Mr H clicks his camera to capture my ever widening smile. 

I breathe in slowly as I fill my lungs with the salty air. My shoulders drop as the ozone fills my nose. I stare and listen to the swooshing tide as it spreads onto the beach before being pulled back into the sea, washing away some of my anxiety. The sky may be grey but my heart is full of sunshine.

I hope that this break will settle my head. Stop the electrical storms which have kept me at home, too scared to go out on my own.

This change in behaviour started a few weeks ago…

In Tesco I shout out Whooooh as a huge wave crashes through my head knocking me sideways. I stumble and grab a tin filled shelf.

Can I help a lady asks, so I send her into the next aisle to find my Peri Peri sauce hunting husband. I breathe a sigh of relief when he rounds the corner. I slide myself down onto the floor. Tesco staff come to help. First aider arrives. They bring a wheelchair and take me out while Mr H pays.

A one off. I hope.

Then last Saturday it happens again…

I am alone, walking past Boots in the mall and Whoooh breaks through my lips. I lurch to the side. A man standing there sees, looks, then walks away. I try to walk again but the waves stop me and I slide myself once more to the floor. My legs cannot hold me up. I need to sit I whisper to no one.

I call out to two ladies can you help me please?

Epilepsy.

They stay with me and I book a Taxi home, quicker than ringing Mr H. When I can stand, these lovely hen party planners walk with me and wait until it arrives.

Two days later I step out of the front door, wrapped up to guard me from the autumnal breeze.  I pass cottages, the club house, but by the bungalows a wave crashes inside my head. I wobble against someone’s dry stone wall. I lower myself down at the bottom of their drive. Almost in the lane. But not quite. Please stop someone I whisper to myself as cars pass by…

Eight years ago, when I was alone in my hospital room, unable to walk after my surgery I promised myself this…

A whole week in a cottage by the sea.

I am living my dream of an epilepsy calming, ozone smelling, seagull crying, bird watching, fossil hunting, chip eating week.

I am not afraid of storms for

I am learning to sail my ship

Louisa May Alcott