Friday, October 03, 2014
After The Ball Was Over
Here at Planet Paradise we’re kind of re-grouping after the past year saw another uninvited guest into our lives. No, not the Master of Surprises, but the Big C had been insidiously attacking Huw without any suspicion of it. Glory be to the wonders of modern surgery combined with medicine, that that uninvited guest has been given the boot within less than a year. Life continues.
Inevitably, once the ball was over and was safely kicked into touch, that old chestnut happened – a visitation by the Master. A fleeting one, no doubt, but one which caused me to revisit old diary entries about accepting these visitations, the title of which was initially ‘Reactive Acceptance’. A heavily edited version of what I once wrote….
‘I allow MS into my life on my terms, accept that it is there but put it in the ‘naughty corner’ paying it occasional lip service; keeping up the platitudes (metaphorically speaking of course). Then when MS throws a childish tantrum, I react calmly instead of fighting, because if we fight then we’re already doomed to have a label of ‘failure’ just because of the nature of the condition – and what does that label do to us emotionally?'
So how do I react ?
I treat it as a hurdle, not one to climb over, but to be got around gently- on my own terms and my terms alone because I very much like to be in control of my life. I know me better than anyone else so I make my own guarded but informed choices about what suits me best.What suits me best in the aftermath of our mutual battle with a guest so vile that it doesn’t even deserve to be named, is nothing more than sleep.
At the time of writing I’ve slept a whole three nights of quality and uninterrupted sleep, eight hours at a time, and unashamedly, three whole days apart from eating, cooking and naturally my Photo a Day Project.
I’ve already had enough now though of that malarkey and very much looking forward to next week, one where we’ll be celebrating the entry and exit out of my body, of a very real mortal-being nicknamed Worm, the wriggliest of babies but thirty years down the line, a giant of a man in very many ways. Bring it on. ........ oh and I'll sneak a pic of him at three years old simply because I adore this one - ignore the antimacassar (another story) .....and a quote in relation to it..
The most beautiful moments always seemed to accelerate and slip
beyond one’s grasp just when you want to hold onto them for
as long as possible.”― E.A. Bucchianeri