Things that go bump in the day...

In April I wrote about the Water of Life because I have been drinking enough water to fill a reservoir. The oncologists and nurses said water will flush out the toxins and help with fatigue. So as each wave of fatigue crashed into my day I drank another glass,

But as spring opened its doors the bite of fatigue got sharper each day.  After my shower I had to lie on the bed. Downstairs for breakfast, I felt dizzy as I emptied cereal into my bowl…

I feel awful, keep falling over and I am having seizures again  I tell my neurosurgeon when I see him in March for my 7th annual brain scan results.  

Well there is no change in your scan he says and the ventricles are the normal size so no sign of hydrocephalus either.

But at home when I try to hurry to reach the ringing phone, my feet end up in a knot and  I launch myself across the room like a cannon ball. My head breaks the fall as it smashes into a table…I sit up with a groan as blood trickles down my face and onto my arm…

After a three hour wheelchair wait in Accident and Emergency It is too late to stitch my head wound so I am pushed to a ward. Too ill to go home. 






The cause of my fatigue, wobbling Weeble-ness and falls is Hyponatraemia - a dangerously low sodium level in my blood. The cause of this low sodium is a side effect of one of my epilepsy drugs Eslicarbazepine (also occurs with Carbamazepine).  

My epilepsy consultant explains…by drinking a lot of water you have been making the (until now unknown to me) side effect much worse. 

I have over diluted the small amount of sodium still in my blood.  I am intoxicated with water!!

So now I have to count my cups of coffee, camomile tea and glasses of water. A total of 1500mls per day is all I can have.

After a couple of days of  one legged foot stamping tantrums and rants...the rewards of less water flow in…my Weeble-ness is less wobbly. I am hitting the floor less often and my seizures have stopped again - for now. 

So on holiday I hide the scar under my growing fringe and allow myself an extra Banaberry crush mocktail ...

Monumental Dive

I bend into my start position. Breathe in. Breath out. Dip my head... 

10 But...

9 Instead...

8 I throw...

7 The wet washing...

6 Across the kitchen floor...

5 As I...

4 Launch myself...

3 While doing a backwards body flip...

2 Head first ...

1 Into a cupboard

I may be a clumsy clump with crazy balance; but a bruised knee, broken toe (I am sure), sore head and a shoulder that refuses to work like it ought, do not stop me chuckling.

After all Charlie Chaplin said:

Laughter is the tonic, the relief, the surcease for pain

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poor-balance, falling-over

Mud on my nose in the veg plot

I wander out of the back door singing along to Smooth Seventies radio station:

 ..."How happy you made me oh Mandy, Well you came and you gave without taking and I sent you away oh Mandy"....as I snip at my sweetcorn kernels bursting from their skin... 

(the song takes me back to a teenage holiday in Kidwelly when my sister (Mandy) and I fell in love with the camp-site band - yes all of them!!) ..."and you kissed me and stopped me from shaking and I need you today oh Mandy"...

I bend to pull courgettes from the plant which is spreading its tentacle like stalks...roasted home grown vegetables in mind for tea...

I lean forward bellowing "I'm standing on the edge of time, walked away when love was mine"... as with flailing arms I grab at the wet, slippery compost bin...still singing.."caught up in a world of uphill climbing, the...arrrgh...mud is...oooohhhhh..."

"in my eyes"

Mr H always says one thing at a time; but do I listen..Never!

Kicking at a closed door

Most of the time smiles make my face shine. I check my energometer as I wake and use what I have with care.  Optimism flickers in my heart as I try this changeover of epilepsy drugs. 

But even though I have three different drugs in my system instead of two, the seizure blighters keep breaking  the surface to show their fangs. I try to ignore their bite but nausea is hard to turn my back on. Tears sting my eyes in public as onlookers curiously watch.

Today I take the bus to Pilates and as I stand at the bus stop the nausea shows its teeth. I nibble a banana and it eventually subsides. But only for a while and in Pilates the tears cascade as I sit on the bright orange ball. 

Enough. I have had enough.

Too early for the bus back I take refuge from the torrential rain in the village information booth. When I leave I smile as a handsome young man holds the door open for me. 

But the distraction breaks my check trip hazard radar. I catch my left foot on the tiny ledge at the door and fall head first into his surprised arms. 

Head down I mutter my thanks saying I knew that would happen. Sorry my foot got caught. I walk away before I allow the tears of frustration to prick my eyes.

Back home there is only one choice. Snuggle into the settee accompanied by charity shop buys and treats...

"My therapist told me that the way to achieve true inner peace is to finish what I start. So far today, I have finished two bags of M&M's and a chocolate cake.. I feel better already" 

Dave Barry

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Epilepsy, Falling-Over

Easter on my bum in the rhubarb bed

The sun smiles, the dry sky like a wall smeared with Dulux testers, offers shades of white, blue and grey, a couple of hours at the allotment is our plan. I pile on a camisole, two T shirts, a fleece, finally a coat as outer protection.

I dip my toe outside the back door, the cold bites my nose, hat and gloves follow. Flutters of excitement tickle my insides. Today the final bed will be made and we will lay the green carpet. 

Owen arrives to steer the project, Mr H has planned the makeover, I am the tea lady and conductor. Sawing and drilling drowns out birds singing when like magic, the boys turn wood into the ninth bed. I wave my stick at the dips in the ground as they rake the paths.

People passing smile and call out: 

we like the work the supervisor is doing... are you selling deck chairs...

I insist the boys take a photo of me at each milestone, I  take photos of the boys on tea breaks; in between photo shoots I rest my bum on my green sunny deckchair. I am allocated the best standing still job, shovelling fresh horse manure from a barrow into the compost bin... peg on my nose.

I try my chance at spreading fish blood and bone between the beds, the powder settles on my boots and trousers, the pungent odour makes my workers cough. I trundle from bed to bed, wobble, grab at thin air, shout I'm going...bum on the rhubarb... I call for rescue...  

The carpet is ready to be laid, I stand from my chair. Owen drops the first roll onto the ground. Like a member of the Royal Family planting a tree I roll it out in a straight line smiling at the camera Mr H holds.

Grinning; Take more photos...

The carpet transforms the site from bare, muddy floorboards to a room at the Ritz. I hope I bounce when I fall.