Life - Use the whole box of crayons...

That's not grey hair I tell everyone I see, I use a white crayon. 

I am greeted each morning with a black and white smile and for the first time in 7 months I woke with a few hairs out of synch. 'Jane' my sandy blond wig is now back in her box. But I have enjoyed my hair holiday, away from brushes and combs, getting showered and dressed then popping Jane or a multi coloured hat over my shivering head...

I have splashed out on colour for my new swimming costume too so it's blue like the sea. It has a pocket at the front to store my new silicone boob! 

When I emptied out my swimming bag, a musty towel went in the wash, rotten Zogg pool socks are now in the bin.and my toiletries refreshed. Today I shall dip my toe in the warm water of the baby pool a year after my last dippy dip!





I used a new crayon and Tamed another Tiger last week. I joined a Community Voices Acapella singing group and when I walked out the door after my first visit my heart was singing as much as my voice. The room was full of characters who use the whole box of crayons to brighten their lives.

But the black crayon keeps making its mark. A recent bone scan due to new hip pain did not rule out bone metastases so now I wait for an MRI scan and hope that it is degeneration not more bright red big C...

Make the most of the life that you have and use the whole box of crayons

Kate and William celebrate their first baby as I celebrate a first too...

I woke today with quivers in my tummy. I pack my rucksack and trundle to the bus stop.

I press the button and the ding tells the driver I want him to stop. I clamber slowly off and stick, hitch foot, stick, hitch foot my way to the crossing.

I grab the hand rail to enter my destination. The swimming pool. 

The flutters are now crashing waves.

I pay my fee and go into the changing rooms. Costume on I walk alone for the first time to the pool.

Hand my ticket to the lifeguard and ask him where Bill is. He points to the third lane. 

I drag my feet towards the lane.

He stops and looks up from the water in the big pool.

Are you Bill?  I'm Dawn... here for my first swimming lesson.

He smiles.

Juggling seizures

I woke under water this morning but my swim is this afternoon.

I empty coffee into a mug and hope I will surface.

The last few days my Simple Focal/Partial Seizures have been bouncing around like a clown. 

The nausea teases then 'strangeness' in my head follows before momentary sadness and painted on tears complete the show.

The pill swap takes eight weeks at best.  I have three epilepsy drugs up in the air, adding one in like an extra ball while the old one is gradually dropped. 

Last night I threw in more of the new to whip the seizures into oblivion.

Today I flit from one uncompleted task to another.

This time at least I have enough energy to enjoy sunshine and flowers in our garden; I hope you do too....

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seizures, epilepsy, anti-epilepsy-drugs

Intuitive, Non-Judgemental Lifeguards

I sort my rucksack before my weekly swim as I recall the tremor of fear when I stuffed my costume, towel and toiletries in for the first time. A whirl of unanswered questions occupied my mind...

How would I get into the pool?

Once I was in, would I be able to let go of the side?

Would I be able to swim?

One thing I knew for sure, people would stare as I dragged my left leg and gripped Swimming Sues arm for support.  As a mind reader I can hear their thoughts: I wonder what has happened to her, stroke maybe? Not sure I could come if I walked like that. 

I have learnt through counselling that I am making up stories which may or may not be true.

Now I make up positive stories to tell myself as I head to the pool... wow isn't she amazing!!; brave to be learning to swim again; I hope I could be that brave if anything happens to me.

This week I am tired and as the baby pool glistens like a mill pond in all its empty glory, I opt for that. We approach the lifeguards explaining the brain tumour and learning to swim; amidst smiles we get our personal lifeguard, he opens the gate and lets us through. 

These lads and ladies, dressed in blue and red at our local council run leisure centre do everything with a smile. I was offered (rather than having to ask) the metal steps on wheels when I tried the big pool last week; not a glimmer of judgement on their faces as we chat about swimming strokes and two 'young' ladies occupying their time in the baby pool.

Happy Friends and Converse-ations

I giggle behind my hand in our local Deli as a coffee cup steams in my hand; I lean towards Sue as we talk in soft voices sharing gossip and news. 

                 "A Friend is a person with whom one enjoys mutual affection and regard; one  
                attached to another by affection or esteem ; a favoured companion"

Definitions which fail to capture the richness of friendship.

Friendships sheltered me when a hurricane of change blew my life into fragments. I clung to the tiniest gestures, a trip out for a coffee when I could  barely walk; an unexpected visit lightened the black cloud which had settled on my shoulders;  fifteen minute piano lessons at home with encouragement when little progress is made; the unexpected offer of a trip to Westonbirt, not knowing I am desperate to go; hours on the phone listening as tears drip off my nose and anger bursts from every pore; an arm when I want to swim; shared delight when my Converse become glued to my feet; an offer to shop and lunch.


The arms of long term friendships envelop me. New Friends have been blown my way on wispy clouds when the hurricane of change was too much for others. So many Sues I have nick names; 'old' Sue, Swimming Sue, Piano Sue.... Cathy, Chris, Val, Jon, Jacky, Corinne, Michele, Erwin, Ron, Eleri, Mark, Jayne, Owen, Linda, Julie, Steve, Bryony, Paul, Anne, Jane, Dave, Kate, Maja, Helen, Mike.
My friends and foundations; Mandy & Pete, Adrian & Helen, Luke, Lois, My Mom. 
(forgive me if I have forgotten any of you..you know who you are)

Mr H; the brick wall that protects me when the wind of exhaustion takes control, the arms that direct me when I don't know where to turn; the heart that beats beside me, the shared laughter when the sun shines.

Friendships are my precious flowers which I nurture and feed to ensure they grow.

The only way to have a friend is to be one

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Holler and Whoop - Six in the Pool

I have grown stronger flippers since Caribbean Calypso- Kindness-of-strangers and my dip in the warm Caribbean sea.  A weekly dip-in-the baby-pool with the incredible support from my friend Swimming Sue has helped bravery bubble to the surface.

Before I was touched by the Brain Tumour, at my best I could manage 42 lengths in the big pool, but the baby pool has been my safe haven since I dipped my toe back into water.

But today the baby pool is full of Moms, babies and small children learning to swim. I  spoke to the life guard last week about BT and my endeavours, so when  I approach the big pool they switch on their Water Baby Dawn Radar. 

Sue slides in first then hovers as I approach the step ladder like a tight rope walker, three rungs down we high five and whoop.

The water is cool but my adrenaline pumps, I do a courage test by walking until I am out of my depth then swim back to the shallow end, a swim smile washes over my face. 

I launch myself again swimming like a bullet, my eyes glued to the end of the big pool! 




We share more whoops and hugs at the deep end. Trying to launch from deep water proves to be the ultimate challenge, I hang onto the rail with a white knuckled grip then after several false starts I am off, Sue swims by my side talking to me: 

slow down and breath, slow, breathe, slower, breathe. 

I reach the shallow end for the second time!!

I need to work on my 'launch in the deep end' technique; My one legged push off from the wall did not work so I wade out of my depth again and do a small one legged study of starting to swim in deep water. I try several methods a haphazard let go of the rail, grab it again, let go approach works until I build up speed with my one legged stroke. I need more practice.

Six  lengths later I am done in and the empty, gloriously warm baby pool invites us in for a few water baby widths.  I am as excited as the day I first wobbled across the Hospital Physio Gym unaided, accompanied by squeals and tears. 

Lots more practice and one to one swimming lessons and Dawns' Swimathon in the big pool will be my next challenge so watch this space and have your pennies ready to sponsor me.

Dip in the Baby Pool

Cold water…my leg shoots out like a rod of iron. 

In Caribbean Calypso – The Kindness of Strangers... I learnt an important lesson...

...Warm water…I close my eyes… sunshine filtered by plastic units. No squealing children we are alone, the empty hour, our little secret. The lifeguard gazes down from his high chair...looks away when I catch him watching.

I roll over like a listing ship when I first try to float on my back. More rudder work and I stay stable. Once afloat my lazy leg refuses to anchor. Full steam ahead in the arm engine room and I am upright. 

I  touch the floor with ease, grinning I complete my first one legged five metre width. I award myself a bronze medal. 10 widths without stopping will be Gold.

Without Sues arm the treacherous trek from changing room to pool would be like a walk on ice. I wear latex socks...my crampons. I am verruca free. 

Regular visits amidst curious looks…occasionally joined by a mother and baby. Other adults wander over to discover the delight of our Caribbean sea. Chattering divides our swims.

Buoyancy makes leg exercises easier, next visit I will cycle to my Mom's house and back! 

Equal races are staged between Sue and I. 

Breast stroke…one leg furiously flapping. I win. 

No legs just arms. I win. 

One leg competes against two. We draw. 

My strong upper body aids my one legged challenges.  

Two legged crawl against one legged breast stroke. I loose. Sue claps as we giggle. 

More curious stares from the life guard....

Caribbean Calypso - The Kindness of Strangers

A steel calypso band plays hark the herald angels sing as we disembark the ship…. A banner shouts its welcome to the Caribbean island of St Maarten.

As the sun sinks its teeth into skin we head for the golden sands. Shaded eyes watch curiously as I wobble my way to the waters edge.  I will only paddle I tell Mr H.

The sea has another plan. The waters edge approaches. Unable to step back quickly the waves claim my feet. As the tide heads backwards I grab at fresh air. My stick sinks into wet sand. In slow motion I join the sea.

The warm salty water teases, the strong current plays as it washes me forwards… shuffle backwards… wash me forwards… shuffle backwards…. A fellow traveller offers a hand and encourages me in.

I don’t know if I can swim now.

I'm a strong swimmer, you'll be safe; my wife has a bad leg too.

I edge my bum to the ledge in the sea and drop over. My lips tremble; my new friends frown, then their faces light up; happy tears; I am in the sea! Four years ago I was in a bed only able to move my left arm.  I float on my back, my legs equal and light.

The kind man sets me a challenge

I think you could swim

I lift my legs and as my arms propel me forward my right leg flaps, like a water skier I pull the left leg along.

I wave frantically at Mr H, I am swimming!

Paralympics here I come…