Assisted Dying

Assisted Dying has been on the news again.  What do you think about it?  Is it wrong, should we let nature take its course.  I think in the world we live in we intervene in most things anyway.  Would we let nature take its course if a pregnant woman was unable to give birth naturally?  No, we wouldn’t, because we are a developed and modern country.  We don’t let animals suffer.  If the Vet said, “look it would be kinder to let them go”, we would usually take that advice.  So why are we comfortable to let our loved ones suffer when there’s another way.  Why should our loved ones have to travel to Dignitas in Switzerland ahead of time because of fear they will be too sick to travel.  It’s a very big debate.

I’ve spoken about this before with some close friends, friends that would choose this because of degenerative disease.  I fully support them in their decision. 

When I was younger, I used to think about my own situation and what route I would take.  This is before I knew about places like Dignitas.  You see, there will probably come a time in my life where I would need a double lung transplant and when I was younger the odds wasn’t that great on you surviving the operation.  I used to think, that’s not for me.  Waiting for a call to get new lungs, living your life waiting, to die on the operating table anyway.  Success rates are a bit better nowadays, but it’s still not great.  50% of people die waiting for a pair of lungs and 50% die afterwards due to complications.

I guess the main difference with my condition and someone that has something like Multiple Sclerosis (MS) is that MS is never going to get better and there’s nothing that can be done to buy time once you are too sick to look after yourself.  This is the point where people want to press the ejection button before it gets too much to bare.  The people making these decisions are fully aware of what is to come.  Otherwise you slowly go downhill and that’s it, to the bitter end.  I think the people that disagree with Assisted Dying have never experienced what its like to be sick every day.  It’s hard going.  You have to fight for every thing.  Basic things that most take for granted.  It’s physically exhausting.  Life doesn’t give you an easy time because you are sick and people still hurt you.

However, Cystic Fibrosis is a different fish.  You may want to push the ejection button, but you need to hang on until the bitter end for a second chance at the controls.  I’m not saying CF sufferers have a harder time, but the rules of the game are different.  Some decide to eject.  It’s a very personal decision, one I think the person should have and be able to action, at home.

What are my personal thoughts, well, I have Daisy to think about now and I will hang on for as long as I can.  And it's not a cure, it just buys some time.  I’m trying to get better with remembering all my treatments and medication but it’s not easy on your own, especially with a life limiting condition like CF.  

If you would like to give people a second chance at the controls, if you feel that some people could be saved, why not think about joining the organ donor register.  You can do your bit, I’m even on it and I didn’t think they’d want anything of mine.  I think my eyes and my skin are the only bits worth having.  

College - The HNC

College is finished, whoop whoop.  I’m so glad to be able to say that, as at times I thought I’d never get through it.  I don’t remember crying about the course but there have been tears, usually as a result of the cheeky buggers that manage the equipment store, accept the lovely Sean, he was brilliant.  I’m sure they deal with a lot of crap but c’mon.  I certainly recall having the weight of the world on my shoulders; maybe I was just overly sensitive.  I knew on applying for this course that I would be forced to do things I haven’t done before and how it would probably be a little awkward and uncomfortable.  However at the same time I think I thought it would be easy, how wrong was I!  My course was made up of the following subjects this term, Photography Theory, Darkroom and Creative Techniques, Portraiture, Image Editing, Creative Industries, Still Life, Applied Techniques, Social Photography, Corporate Photography, Stock Photography and the dreaded Graded Unit!

I started my course in September and realised by Christmas that I was struggling physically.  I made the decision over the Christmas holidays that I was not going to apply for my second year.  By the time I came to my annual review in February at hospital, my consultant said that my lung function had taken a nose dive since August and that confirmed that me being in close proximity to lots of people on a daily basis doesn’t help me, especially when we were in the basement of college with circulated air ventilation and no windows.  I can feel my CF followers instantly cringe. 

I struggled through that first 18 weeks of the course.  I was hospitalised with a chest infection and missed three weeks of class time.  But, I persevered and was in college full-time the last three weeks just to get through my work.  Luckily my deadlines were extended and I did manage to finish.  On my return after the Christmas break I was faced with a dilemma of, should I finish my course here after getting through that eighteen weeks or should I do it all again to leave with my HNC in Photography and not let all that hard work go to waste.  I’m not someone who gives up easily, but I do get easily over whelmed with mountains of work to get through.  I loved my class and I wanted to continue even though it was making me ill.  I knew that if I wasn’t going to go into second year I could effectively drop a class or two because the way the HNC works is that you need to obtain 12 credits for the group award and 15 to get into second year, which is all classes in first year.  Anyway, I took the decision to strip down my course and ditched my darkroom class, which you all know I can do anyway and stock photography, which I thought would be like watching paint dry to a portrait photographer. 

It’s not been all bad though, I’ve met a really great bunch of friends.  I’m sure we’re all going to keep in touch and I will go in and meet them for lunch now and again, even though the food in college is terrible and over priced.  The things we do for love……ah I feel a song coming on!  There’s so much more I could say.  I’ve laughed so much this past ten months being with these guys every week.  I’ll leave you all with a wee selection of some of the work I’ve done this term.  I will be back soon to tell you all about my Graded Unit and what sealed the deal to my overall grade A for the year.

Birthday in Paris

We had a bit of a crazy year with the old birthday celebrations.  Most winters I’m ill and I’m not really in the mood for organising anything.  Then others I’m full of beans and over the top.  This year we had an actual party and we invited all of Daisy’s school class.  Lisa Lollipop joined us to entertain the children.  We tucked into Hot dogs, Popcorn, Slush Puppy and enough sweets to stock a small shop.  One of the mums brought the biggest homemade cheesecake I’ve ever seen and it was all gone by the end of the party.  Truly Scrumptious – cakes by Joanna made the most incredible Birthday cake.  It was so beautiful I didn’t want to cut it up, again it was gone by the end.  People were loading up with boxes of the delicious cake.   My friends and family were as usual, all hands on deck and the party was a roaring success.  I'd like to say thank you to everyone who made the party special and for all gifts Daisy received.  

That would have been enough for one little girl to take in, but as I mentioned, I’m a bit crazy over the top at times.  I thought it would be an idea to go to Disneyland Paris, the very next day!  I only thought about it two or three weeks before the party.  When you are sick, it's not practical to book something miles in advance.  You have to go when you feel well.  The adverts sucked me in and before I knew it, it was booked.  I’ve priced it up before and thought it was a bit expensive, but there seemed to be adverts after adverts all over the TV saying “book now and get this that and the other free”.  You know sometimes these deals are not as great as the make out, but I swear this one was good.  We were staying in a top-notch Disney Hotel, having three course meals everyday, drinks and cakes everyday and practically spent nothing because we had a complimentary voucher for most things.  I couldn't believe our luck.

Daisy loved meeting all the characters, Spiderman, Merida, Woody and Jessie, Mickey, Minnie, the Disney Princesses and of course, no Disney visit would be complete without meeting Anna and Elsa!  There were a few hairy moments at the start, namely a scary roller coaster in disguise.  I've never been so glad to get off a ride.  I swear we though it was a child's train ride, you know quite tame, but Jesus!  It was a super fast roller coaster and believe me I'm no thrill seeker.  We got into our seats, I casually rested my arm behind Daisy and within seconds it became apparent to me that arm was going to move to pin Daisy in like a seat belt.  We saw the funny side of it, while mum and I were telepathically saying all our swear words.  Daisy was shouting at the top of her voice "this is fun", she had the best time. It was a very tiring holiday for the adults however. 

So if you ever forget where you were for your 5^th Birthday Daisy  Well, you woke up in a Disney hotel in Paris and had breakfast with Mickey Mouse.  Then we took the train into the centre of Paris and went up the Eiffel Tower.  I even managed to take the photo I would use on our family Christmas card.  Looking forward to our next adventure, whatever it may be.

The little things

CF is really kicking my ass just now.  I've been on this earth for a long time and I wonder when I'm ever going to learn that I can't graze.  I mean grazing as in picking/snacking at food.  Just normal things for a lot of people and something you might take for granted.  I can't do that, well I shouldn't.  I've had a upset tummy recently as well as all the other things. People who suffer from Crohns disease, IBS, Coeliac disease and the countless other digestive disorders that's out there.  I feel your pain.

I've had a sore stomach, bloating, cramping, wind, constipation, diarrhoea, hot and cold sweats and I've been feeling lethargic.  As you know the human body is a finely tuned machine and the symptoms I've described is evidence that the digestive system is experiencing trauma. Something people with Cystic Fibrosis suffer with because another element of the disease is that the digestive system doesn't function properly.  Enzymes need to be taken orally at the same time as food to digest the food.  It's pretty much a manual system.  Let your concentration slip and you will pay.  Like everything else there are varying degrees of severity.  Some people will need to take 1-2 tablets with meals, some like me might take 11-12 with meals.  As the pancreas loses function you can also end up being diabetic, but that's another story.

Imagine going to a party.  Oh you're gonna be one party animal if you have a condition that relies on you being sober and alert!  Let's think of a scenario. Would you be able to relax knowing you had to make a mental calculation of each mouthful of food you had from a buffet or bowl of crisps that were on your table?   Then, make a quick calculation, type of food+volume of food=number of tablets. Did I mention you can't just swallow them all at the start or at the end? Gets trickier does it.  What I've learnt over the years is that I have to avoid the bowl of crisps on the table and wait until the buffet is served.  I then go get a full plate of food. Full plate of buffet food x what type of food = amount of tablets.  Eat the food and and take the tablets during the meal; job done.  You want some more food.  Well you just repeat the steps.

Yes it's not very social but that's life as I know it.  At times though I fall off the waggon.  Usually when I get sick, I am even more forgetful.  I forget I can't graze like everyone else.  The trade off is getting an upset tummy and farting lots, sometimes for days. What I have to do now in this position is fast, not eat, maybe for 2 days.  Clear my system out and start again.  Hoping I will learn from my mistakes and not do it again anytime soon.

There's lots of things in life we take for granted.  Sometimes it's a way of life.  Sometimes it's people.  Appreciate the little things.  

Another blog brought to you from the bath tub.

My Love My Life 10/12 - Conquer Fear

© Ian Pettigrew

College have been speaking about the importance of personal projects recently.  Personal projects can turn out to be your best and most fulfilling work, because for whatever reason, you have specifically chosen to do it.  I recently stumbled upon a Canadian photographer, later found out he's half Scottish!  Well, he is currently working his way through a personal project called Just Breathe, where he's photographing adults who are living with Cystic Fibrosis (CF).  

Media coverage surrounding CF is sparse.  Since the birth of social media, I'm connected to a lot of people who have CF.  There's always somebody who knows a person who has died recently.  It can get really upsetting reading things like that.  It's not high profile like Cancer, but it's equally devastating.  It will kill you; it just drags the process out a bit.  Adults living with CF can often feel like it's a battle to stay alive, that's why they are often referred to as Warriors within the CF community.  Treatment regimes are physically and mentally demanding for patients.  Like many other long term chronic conditions, it may not be widely understood that family members can also endure years of emotional trauma as a direct result of caring for and/or living with the sick person.  
After being diagnosed later in life himself, Ian wanted to spread the message that this is no longer a children's disease and the best way to do that as a Photographer, is by taking pictures.  Lots of pictures! 

Ian started his career in advertising and got the photography bug by working alongside photographers for many years.  He used to think photographers had a glamorous life.  He admits he was wrong.  Just like I used to think the ladies behind the make-up counters in department stores were glamorous, before I did my school work experience.  Someone once asked him why he would want to be in a job that made him poor, but money isn't everything.  

As well as Ian's standard portrait head shots for his Just Breathe Project,  I found another one called Salty Girls - The Women of Cystic Fibrosis  Here he photographs CF women.  But, what does the name mean?  Well, the salt in CF patients bodies travel differently through the tissues to that of non-CF people.  Patients secrete higher volumes of salt through their sweat.  There was an old saying around the 1700s which went like this, "woe is the child who tastes salty from a kiss on the brow, for he is cursed and soon must die".  They used to believe CF children were bewitched. In this project Ian captures how CF can ravage your physical appearance.  I'm well aware of how the effects of CF have changed my appearance and body image.  I've always been a little self conscious.  It's healthier for me to weigh more, but society wants you to be thin.  I think it's very brave of the ladies to expose themselves like this.  It takes real courage, which I'm sure they have truck loads of.  

Ian wants his images made into a photobook.  If he can get enough financial support or even better a sponsor, he could make this a reality sooner.  If you are in a position to be a sponsor of this book, great.  If not, well you could always join the organ donor register in your county instead.  I'll leave you with some of Ian's images and one of me, which is my contribution to Salty Girls - The Women of Cystic Fibrosis.  Photo credit to the lovely Nicola Grimshaw and her team at My Boudoir - Make-Over Boudoir Photography.

© Ian Pettigrew

© Ian Pettigrew

                                                           © Nicola Grimshaw

Crime of Passion

This time ten years ago I was on my way to the hairdresser.  I got married that day to someone I loved deeply.  I thought marriage was forever, but there's always some smarmy buck teeth tramp out there willing to screw it all up.  We all know one!

Mum dropped off a copy of Hello magazine to me the other day.  She thought I would find the interview they did with the former glamour model Katie Price interesting.  I know there are a lot of people who don’t like her very much namely because of her outrageous outfits and bold as brass attitude.  But me, I think she speaks a lot of sense and this interview was no different. 

She says it how it is.  What’s wrong with that?  That type of personality can be seen as a bit of a threat.  But it is what it is, a personality trait.  It doesn’t mean the person is nasty, malicious or awkward.  That is just who they are.  I always think these types of people make the best of friends because lets face it, they’re unlikely to be false and you’ll know exactly where you stand.  I bet she’s really lovely.  I empathise with her.  Just because you have money and success does not make you immune to bad things happening.  Only this week the much-loved actor Robin Williams died suddenly, in an alleged suicide.  There’s a prime example of someone who appeared to have it all.  Life is cruel.  As human beings we suffer the same heartache.  Emotions are indiscriminate.

Katie talked about her husband’s recently uncovered infidelity with two of her close friends.  Katie was very open and honest about her feelings regarding the situation.  Describing how “her heart hasn’t been broken, it’s been shattered”.

There are lots of things you would want to know.  What exactly happened. You need to know the truth.  Then and only then can you make a decision about what to do next.  You need all the facts. It seems she believes his account of events and with Katie being a woman of means she’s in a position to deal with things a bit differently to us mere mortals.  She said in the interview that she organised for her husband to have a polygraph test, just like they do on The Jeremy Kyle Show.  She wanted to know everything. How many times it happened, where it happened, when did it start.  All questions any wronged person would have racing through their head, but could you actually believe what you were being told by the guilty party if you wasn’t in a position to get one of these tests.  I suspect not and it would constantly be on your mind.  Visualising the pair of them ripping each other’s clothes off and having sex.  Was it in your bed, in your car, who else knew about it, who else was keeping the secret?  You would be spitting nails.

She also commented that she couldn’t understand why he would even want to have sex with two older women who were “rank”.    I suspect there are many theories on why someone would do that.  Likely story is, they were easy.  We all know blokes are trouser dumb but it's these ladies of ill repute that really know the lines they're crossing. Imagine being that desperate for attention you had to make do with the crumbs of someone else’s relationship.   Why would you not want to be the star of the show, the leading lady. Why would you be happy in the knowledge you were someone’s dirty secret.  You'd have to be a bit thick.  Why would you prey on someone that is married or married with children or like Katie married with a child on the way.  How could they be so cruel to the innocent victims.  Helping create a situation whereby children don't see the guilty parent as much as they used to.  Meanwhile the other spouse has had their life turned completely upside down and grieving for the life they thought was already planned out.  To be snatched away by a foolish act of greed.  Who does that?  Someone with No Moral Compass, that’s who.

Could you really ever trust someone who’s been unfaithful, not once, but twice and however many other times you don’t know about.  Without everyone coming clean, that situation will never right itself; it will be like a wound that never heals.  Who knows how long it will last between them.   I believe that once the relationship has been poisoned like this, I expect it won’t be a happy ending.  She maintains they are still husband and wife and this is a marital issue.  Something they must sort out together.  What we do know is that Katie is very switched on, so I hope she knows what she’s going to do next.  

If you ever find yourself on the verge of getting into a similar situation, I urge you to stop and think.  This type of behaviour carries a heavy psychological burden for everyone affected, accept the third party.  I'm a firm believer they feel nothing, because in some weird twisted way they don't think they've done anything wrong.  They feel no shame.

So I guess this "tin" of Alphabet Spaghetti is on me.  Your dinner is on the table!  Happy Anniversary.

The Second Trimester

So much happened in the second trimester, some great, some extremely stressful and scary.  Turkey was good for me, just the break I needed and lets face it, I probably wasn’t going to get another for a few years.  This blog is a direct follow on from The twelve week scan

My mum has friends in Turkey, they live on a farm way up in the hills far away from the regular tourists.  It’s pretty basic, almost like Roma villages you see on television.  We stayed for the night and I was really cautious I didn’t eat anything.  There’s all these lists in the western world about what you can and can't eat while pregnant, but in places like Turkey you eat what you have and milk comes straight from the cow.  I slept on the only bed they had in the house, under a mosquito net that my mum had purchased for them a few years earlier.   I lay on the bed listening to bugs flying about and it made me feel really grateful for the life style we sometimes take for granted here in the UK. 

Once home the hospital appointments started up again.  I was seen frequently, usually every two weeks. We were a little upset that my husband missed the twelve-week scan but being seen and scanned again at fourteen weeks made us feel happy.  I actually felt really good in this trimester.  I had loads of energy, no morning sickness and I was out buying or looking at baby bits and bobs every chance I had.  I started a Pilates class early in my pregnancy and when my stomach started to grow too big I found a pregnancy yoga class.  I wanted to be in the best possible shape for what lay ahead.  I also had to think about parting with my beloved pink smart car. My favourite car ever!  We planned a little holiday to Cornwall, driving about and exploring was just the thing we loved doing.  My cousin who lives down that way was seven months pregnant and I thought it would be nice to go visit her, you know so we could compare bumps.  It‘s somewhere I’d always wanted to visit and it was scorching hot, just like being abroad.   My husband was a bit of a Rick Stein fan so we were definitely going to visit Padstow.  It was so lovely, we knew we’d return one day with Daisy in tow.  I bought her first toys in a Rick Stein boutique; at £40 each for some crochet rabbits Daddy Bear needed a little persuasion.  I will treasure the memories of that grumpy face, so to make him feel even better; I bought a bloody cake stand too!

I was really looking forward to starting my first antenatal classes but unfortunately, my dreams of a “normal” delivery were shattered when I was diagnosed with Placenta Praevia.  It can correct itself as the pregnancy develops and plans can change right through pregnancy from one week to the next.  I soon needed another course of IV antibiotics, as my body wasn’t coping.  My CF team were voicing concerns about a vaginal delivery knowing I was struggling to breathe and I resigned myself to the reality that I was going to have a planned caesarean section.  There were a lot of mixed emotions around this time because of the worry surrounding the various tests that are carried out to determine major birth defects.  This included the 20-week scan, which we were looking forward to, but there is always that worry we would find out there was something wrong.  By this time you look pregnant, you have accepted you are going to have a baby.  I could not imagine finding out there was some serious birth defect at this point.  How would we deal with that.  I remember my mum trying to explain years ago that your thought process is completely different when the baby is inside you.  I had casually said in my teens that I wouldn’t keep a baby it if had something major wrong with it.  I used to think a cleft lip was major defect and that I’d never keep a baby with that.  I guess our beliefs change with time as we mature.  We came home with another handful of scan photos and there was a really cool one showing her curled up in a ball showing all of her spine.  The lady said that was the best possible picture you could get to check the spine was normal.  

Even though I was clearly unwell at times, I loved being pregnant and our happiest times as a couple since the early years of marriage were around this pregnancy.  As I started to get bigger I suffered from leg cramps and foot cramps.  I think it’s pretty normal, but it was scary at the time.  So many changes is happening in your body and being ill I worried if it was normal or was it just something that was happening to me.  I had a good run of weeks feeling well so we organised a family meal with my late father in law and his parents.  I even went out and bought a new maternity dresses for the occasion.  I was feeling really good.  I wasn’t that close to my extended family.  Relationships were somewhat strained, but I was slowly trying to accept that not all families are like your own.  My husband was supportive of my beliefs and I was going meet him halfway in being more tolerant of the situation for the sake of our little family.

Sometimes the only person you can Trust is Yourself

As I'm squeezing my facial cleanser into my hand I find my mind begins to wonder.  You see, my brain never seems to shut off and I end up thinking up blogs just after I've had a few minutes out doing something a simple as washing my face.  In the early days of married life I found it difficult to develop friendships with the partners of my husband’s friend’s.  On the outside I maybe appeared a bit of an Ice Queen, but I didn’t mean to be.    

You see for a long time I’d been subjected to the horrid tales of people in the forces cheating on their partners.  It was rife and it almost made me glad I didn’t live on a military base.  Most could not begin to imagine the love triangles that operated.  That aside, not living on a base meant I felt a little isolated and I didn’t feel like a proper Army wife.  My first quarters were in a residential housing scheme because the former married quarters had been sold to a housing developer when the base no longer housed a regiment, so they only needed a handful of houses.  I’d only agreed to move to keep my husband happy.  I met a forces family living there the year earlier and thought it might be a chance to be involved in the next best thing; a smaller community where I could be friends with fellow wives.  By the time we moved in, that family had vanished.  The word on the street was that the wife had done a runner with the children after an affair was uncovered.  That was my first experience of “army life” and the way some conducted themselves.  I think with the fear of infidelity, some chose to keep themselves to themselves.  When I moved into the house there wasn’t many of us.  The single guys in the recruiting team occupied one house and it was a total mess.  If you looked through the windows into their living-room, it was sparse with the occasional enormous hole in the wall and the grass was never cut.  They lived life as you would on an actual base, picking up trash during the week and then out with their “chick” at the weekend.  Some of the married guys thought they could do they same, and it wasn’t uncommon to take your wedding ring off and put it in your pocket on a night out.  Postings changed all the time and there was a high turnaround of new guys in the recruiting team, usually unmarried guys.  Most were local and had a girlfriend in the same town.  Not being on a base you would generally only mix with the partners of your husband’s close friends, rather than choosing your own.  I remember being on the verge of making my first friendship with one girl when I found out that her boyfriend was being unfaithful.  I felt so sad for her.  I froze when I was told whom the other woman was; I felt sick.  It made me feel like I couldn’t be friend’s, what a great way to start, keeping her boyfriends affair secret to save face for your husband; I knew I couldn’t.  What made it so much worse was that this guy was taking said woman to his girlfriends flat, not his flat, her flat and sleeping with this other lassy while she was at work!! What is it with these guys, I just don’t understand what makes them gamble everything they’ve got for sex with some slapper.   Some men are not the sharpest tools in the box when it’s being offered on a plate.  They probably don’t think that far ahead.  They are probably so self-absorbed thinking their wife or girlfriend has forgotten about them, grow the fuck up!! Some just have no idea how tiring it is running a house and looking after children.  I felt safe in the knowledge that I could trust my husband, this bad stuff happened to other people. 

As I said earlier, making friends was very difficult for me, especially with the baggage that usually came with military spouses.  Getting emotionally involved with wives made me feel uncomfortable, not wanting to carry the burden of knowing their husband was up to no good.  I needed to try and put my past experiences behind me and make a real effort as a good friend of my husband had met a serious girlfriend.  We had met a few of his girlfriends but he said this one was different.  The first time we met up we went out for a meal and had such a good time, I thought she was really nice; we seemed to get on.  We didn't have much in common at the time, so I guessed we probably wouldn’t be bosom buddies. Unlike me she already had children, she didn’t live in the same town and she smoked; smokers made me feel awkward.  I just found most were unsympathetic to non-smokers.  However I wasn’t your average non-smoker, I was someone with a serious lung condition who’s breathing was affected by the slightest sniff of cigarette smoke.  I tried to be polite about it.  Maybe it’s wrong to expect that people will make allowances for you.  Her boyfriend worked away from home so I thought I maybe just had to grin and bear it, for the amount of times we would actually see them.  The two friends always went out drinking together when he was at home and there were times I resented it because it would happen even if we couldn’t really afford it.  Some people are happy to live life on the edge and maybe even take out payday loans when they are a bit short, but I liked to live within my means.  Which on the surface can look like you’re being all boring and sensible. I remember this particular night where I dropped my husband off for his latest knees up and I was asked if I wanted to stay and have a drink.  They were already a few glasses into their bottle of wine, but I had the car outside, so I couldn't really.  This was our first social gathering without our partners there.  We chatted about various things and it seems when you’re married but don’t yet have children, everyone wants to know when that is going to happen.  This was a bit of a raw subject for me with the ongoing fertility issues but I felt comfortable talking to them, I felt like I was part of the crowd having known my husband and his friend for a number of years.  I ended up sharing with them some very personal information, which I foolishly thought wasn’t going to be repeated, but it was and the shit hit the fan.  From then on I subconsciously became a recluse as a way of protecting myself where they were concerned.  I didn’t want to socialise with them because I knew I’d always have to be on my guard.  It didn’t go unnoticed, but it’s not like I wanted it to be like that.  I was suffering emotionally and that betrayal of trust deeply affected me.  Invisible wounds are the hardest to heal. Everyone deals with things their own way and in their own time.  I guess I appeared all ice queen again.  There were constant pleas for me to kiss and make up, so to speak.  I was always getting told that the guy’s girlfriend thought I didn’t like her.  I heard it over and over and over.  I did like her but I felt I couldn’t get close to her and tell her anything because it would come back a hit me in the face.  It also didn’t help matters that the friends were a pair of gossipping fishwives when they were drunk and unbeknown to her, I was getting a full account of what she actually thought about me, after every night out; which didn’t really help build bridges.  He should have really kept that to himself.  Was it any wonder I had a sour face in their company. 

It’s funny the secrets husbands and wives keep, how they confide in each other and know potentially damaging information.  Yes, I know a few marriage breaker secrets of my own.  You find you know the in’s and out’s of all their friends relationships and I wonder how much of my life was out there for general discussion.  AND GIRLS -No matter what bullshit these guys tell to get into your knickers.  That’s all it is, Bullshit.  Well done for being so stupid and guess what, they don’t love you, that was also a lie.  Now who looks like a fool?  These women have no conscience and adopt the attitude that they are single so the infidelity problem is not theirs, but that’s untrue, that’s just what they tell themselves when they realise they’ve been had!!  One thing I can tell you though, is that I wish both women and men would show more respect for their partners or people in relationships.  Maybe the answer is to get to know a person properly before you open up your soul to them.  I’ve said in previous blogs that I trust too easily and that’s something I need to work on in the future.  Trust, it take years to build, seconds to break and forever to repair and once broken it's never the same again.

My Love My Life 2/12 - Energy

I joined this new project last month called My Love My Life.  It's a new blogging cirle with some Professional photographers, who often so busy with work they never get around to capturing family photos of their own.  Probably a reason they started out in Photography in the first place.  I'm a bit like the odd one out because all I do is document Daisy's life.  They invited me in after the Letter's to my Daughter circle dried up. It's a similar thing really, just different branding.  The idea is that once a month they take time out with their family and rekindle the love that got them into Photography.

It's not often I get to spend the weekend with my daughter so when the opportunity presented itself, I grabbed it with both hands.  Had this unusually free weekend landed weeks earlier, I'm not sure how much fun we would've had because I haven't been feeling that great recently.  My doctor has been very concerned about my health and said I’ve taken a dramatic nosedive, which for him was just too rapid a decline for CF and he needed to get to the source of the problem and fast.  We discussed various pressing issues I’m dealing with and my voice wobbled.  I tried to hold it together, but as the questions were fired at me I cried, he knows if I cry I’m not coping.  I sighed and gave an absolute belter of an analogy that I literally just made up.  I told the Prof it’s a bit like having a dead body in the house, you can hide it in a room but the smell is still there.  They all burst out laughing, it was one of those appointments where the room was full of people, Dr, Student, Nurse all in attendance, another reason why I don’t want to cry.  I worry about scaring the students with my overly dramatic "Jeremy Kyle style" part of my life, that's outwith my control. Afterwards the nurse said “this is real life and they need to learn that”.  Anyway, the doctor said he is going to start using my analogy and after knowing him fourteen years, I believe him.    I didn’t realise how funny it all sounded.  He decided to put me on a short course of steroids, which I was a little weary of at first.  I trust him completely though and by the time the valentine holiday weekend was here, I was one week into the course and had super human mummy powers!  No wonder some athletes scoff steroids, I was absolutely buzzing with energy.

No school Friday, Monday and Tuesday, so plenty time for lots of fun activities with my favourite little person.  Our first adventure of the weekend was a trip to Stonehaven, which is a lovely coastal village fifteen miles south of where we stay in Aberdeen.  It was a fairly mild day but snow was forecast for 3pm so we needed to get out and back at a reasonable hour just in case the weather turned nasty.  Stonehaven or Stoney to locals, is picture perfect.  It's a place I used to go as a kid in the summertime, back then they had a lot more facilities for kids.  It’s a shame how they don’t preserve certain attractions.  Saying that, the old outdoor swimming pool is still going strong.  Just about everyone has been in it once and lived to tell the tale and I'm hoping to take Daisy one day as a right of passage really, but she needs to get some meat on her bones first because it will no doubt be freezing.  We were wrapped up warm and I wished I'd put some extra socks on my little friend, I forgot and felt a little guilty.  Mind you it didn't stop the enjoyment of a walk in the fresh sea air.  We collected driftwood for Nanny and some seashells.  Poppy our dog was in her element digging and collecting stones for herself; a trait she has had since she was a puppy.  We walked up to the harbour and spoke to a couple of men who were fishing, Daisy was desperate to see a fish and I told her we would go fishing one day.  I said I’m sure that’s something Granda might like to come along to.  We then had a bite to eat in a place called The Ship Inn, which is always a pleasure.  Before heading home I popped into a traditional sweet shop and picked us up some yummy sweets for in the car on the way home.  That was our Valentine’s Day.  Nothing beats spending time with the people that mean the most to you.

The next day we were up and out early because we were going Horse Riding!  Since getting her beloved Rocking Horse for Christmas Daisy has been desperate to try a real horse.  We have a local riding centre so it was really easy to organise.  It was a chilly morning so I put Daisy’s ski suit on and she looked real cosy.  I was half expecting her to be afraid when we got to the riding centre, but she wasn’t.  While we were waiting we had a look around the stables and met some of the other horses.  Stanley was very friendly and he was huge.  The stable girls arrived with a medium sized black horse and said his name was Sam.  Daisy chatted the whole time to the girls that took her out riding.  They walked though the forest, jumped over fallen trees and told her about the magic tree deep in the forest and that when her horse Sam walked though it, she had to make a wish.  All very exciting as you can imagine for a four year old.  Afterwards we saw a horse with sore legs getting off his bandages and having cream applied to his wounds.  Daisy didn’t want to go home and asked if she could go on again.  I promised that we would go back another day.  She told me she didn’t want anyone else go on her horse Sam, he’s her horse.

The following day, we woke up to a bright spring morning, not the warmest of days but the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.  We threw the Radioflyer trike into the car and off we went; to the park.  I couldn’t believe how cold it was, our weather here is so tricky to call.  I quickly found myself trying to persuade Daisy to come to the cafe but almost wished I never.  I have no idea how mums out with children on their own manage to navigate their way around getting food, paying, finding tables and keeping control of the children.  It went a bit like this, I find a table, tell her to go sit at it, join the queue for food.  She starts messing about, she falls off the chair and onto the floor and suddenly you know everyone is thinking, “where is that child’s Mother”!? and I’m like, I’m here in the queue trying to get bloody food.  I feel so stressed because people are oblivious that I’m unable to coerce Daisy into staying beside me, order, pay, carry a bag and hold a tray of food while looking for somewhere to sit.  It’s physically impossible, my body can’t do it; a stark reminder of how my independence is compromised by my health.  It’s not Daisy’s fault, she’s still young and real free spirit but at times I just want to scream and say if you won’t behave we can’t go out alone.  I struggled on, if the queue wasn’t so long it would’ve certainly helped.  You live and learn.  I ordered Cola, Cake and Hot Chocolate, we waited an age for our hot food and thankfully I managed to engage Daisy with my new camera lens.  We had a blast.  She decided she was going to pull lots of different funny faces and we both giggled looking at them after each shot.

This month I am linking to Tracy of Tracy Williams Photgraphy, be sure to check out her blog.