Silver Linings.

When Jen had her stroke over 6 years ago, we sometimes felt like the world was at an end; everything that needed doing from getting up and getting her dressed in the mornings to getting her to bed at night seemed to present an almost insurmountable and often frustrating challenge which, when faced from the perspective that we are all used to might well have led to despair and self-pity.

What we both learned from those times was that if you're prepared to sit down, examine the problem logically and apply what skills you have, often from a slightly lateral thinking  angle, you can pretty much do anything. We have always said that we wouldn't let her disability stop us doing things, and we certainly haven't. We work as a team. We don't think it's funny that even if we are out at a restaurant I will cut her food up; that if she needs help to get out of a chair I will help (the effective use of counterbalance etc that we have found to do this means she gets out of a seat as quickly as anyone) that sometimes you can't just dash out to the car to pop to the shops, but that you might need to take a few minutes more. Planning is important, but once you have practised those things a few times, and developed the team skills you both know what to do, and they become the norm.

This time we find that the person who may need the help in some situations is me, but the fact that we have done many of these things for the last 6 years has given us a head start.

There is one important other aspect too: we enjoy helping each other, we like being in each other's company and that mutual helping can be very rewarding too. I bet we can butter a slice of bread, or cook breakfast better than most right now who only have use of one hand each. Each little obstacle overcome is a triumph.

You must always look for those silver linings: we have a beautiful car as a result of her DLA benefit. Yes we would give it back right now if it meant her being as she used to be but in reality that's not happening so lets take it, and appreciate it as one of those silver linings. The most obvious one for us from my cancer is that we get to spend time in each other's company, just us. Since the day we met we haven't had that opportunity just because of work, family, kids etc. So this time together is good for us, and again while I would rather NOT have cancer, that isn't happening so we take the best from it and face ewhat problems it throws at us head on, together, always as a team.

We have found that the chemotherapy at the moment knocks me out totally by about 2pm: to the point where I have to go to bed for an hour or two, so any little jobs or errands that we have to do we do in the morning, they are done by that time (again we plan those things if we can) so I can rest and take that couple of hours to recharge.

Now here's a thing: I said in an earlier post I wanted to get the pictures of my x-rays to post here on the blog, but even though they are MY bones did you know that you have to fill in a huge form and apply to the NHS for copies! They then decide if you can have them, and supply them on a CD. That's all very well, but, yes you guessed it, you have to pay £25 for the privilege. I thought the whole idea of the NHS was it was free for the user at the point of delivery? Not so! A bit like the parking charges. I am pretty sure pregnant mums don't pay £25 for their ultrasounds of unborn babies do they? And these days everything is digital and saved onto hard drives because this last week I have seen at least 4 different people view my x-rays on computers in different locations at the hospital! Why somebody can't just send me an e-mail with the x-ray attached I have no idea!