Hope, Vampires and Q&A opp

Last night I mentioned hope and how it’s my favourite word.  It came up because of my friend who made (finally, well done!!!!) a very exciting, life-changing decision, and we were talking about hope being the thing that drastically improves our perspective/mood/feelings about things, way quicker than any actual changes can usually be made. It’s been my favourite word for a long time.  Those who know my house know there are things that say ‘hope’ all over the living room and, if you don’t, there’s a picture below.  It’s one of those words we all need.  As the kid of a manic depressive I can tell you it would’ve changed a lot of things for her.  As a grown up, when we’re feeling a little bit lost, we just need to find some.  Happiness is always going to feel elusive unless you’ve already got it. But hope, well, I think we can always find a way to find just a little bit of that someway, somehow; that’s within your own gift.  And it changes everything.   Hmmm.  This just got a little too philosophical for my liking!

hope

Today is the long haul trip back to Hospital Number 3, a.k.a. the vampire palace. I’m hoping not to make such a mess this time. Even with the smallest needles, even if they’re pressing on the site, the needle they just took out drips, so, invariably, the chair and I get covered. I must remember to ask for a towel instead today! Anyway, this morning will be spent with the minor vampires (i.e. daily routine stuff), afternoon with hematologist (i.e. the serious vampire).  Yay. Not.  So… if you’re one of those people asking all  those blood/warfarin/drug related questions that are way ahead of what I can be fussed with, send them now, by sms, and I’ll get the answers for you by return.  Probably.

:-)

I’m starting to tell other friends what’ going on now.  Work friends knew more or less straight away because that’s where it happened (though Kate did a marvelous job of keeping it quiet for a day or two when I assumed it was all going to be fixed in a day and didn’t want a fuss: sorry and thanks Kate).  Then the immediate family; which in my case includes a bunch of friends and a couple of cousins, and then word travelled along, as it does.  But I’ve not done the ‘tell everyone everything’ bit. It’s never been my style and, also, this particular ‘guess what happened the other week’ has an answer that now sounds, to others, far more dramatic than it actually is.  I know the first week was scary for anyone who was there  – sorry!!!! (and I don’t include me in that – I only caught up with the scary ‘could have’ statistics a few days ago) but for anyone else, it’s actually a far more placid tale.

((((For anyone who’s only just joined and is about to give me a hard time for not telling you earlier: please read on. Everyone else, please skip to these brackets and go to final paragraph! I’ve been told off several times and I’m soooo sorry, but it’s starting to get boring saying that. Life got busy, first in an ICU and then with walking and stuff, and you didn’t need to know right then.   Obviously I’m going to mince my words more in person, but the bottom line is, please forgive me and get over it and pop over for cupcakes.  Or chocolate.  Or any number of lovely things that will blimp me out if I eat them all without you.  This is a rapidly changing good news story, and it’s hard for me to keep up, let alone anyone else. I remember saying to the consultant on Day 4: “Ok, I keep thinking that next time I wake up everything will be back to normal, but I’m getting the hint that no one else thinks this.  What’s the deal here?“ and being given the answer, “Well it might.”.  (And, for the record, in hindsight, that answer really naffs me off.)  But it turns out I wasn’t that wrong.  This happened 2.5 weeks ago, I’ve been home1.5 weeks – which is not the normal thing so we’re all amazed – the drugs may almost have stabilized (we find out properly today) and I look and sound normal again.  Yes, I’m knackered, yes my aim is occasionally out, yes I wobble in the dark, and yes it takes me longer to walk than usual (which, :-) Benj, means I’m at your speed instead of mine now) but basically this is a good news story where the could-haves did not so it’s easier to tell now.  Ok????!!!!)))

Of course, the thing now – which is fab – is it all seems like it happened a century ago and like the scary ‘could-haves’ happened to someone else.  Which means I can totally relate to emails from my ace friends like the one yesterday that started like this:  “It all seems like a bit of a far fetched story – the kind of tale you read about on the internet that happened to a friend of a friend of a friend but not to anyone you actually know.” Quite, RJ, quite!!!!

 

 

p.s. I know you didn’t skip those brackets … you do know you’re still not going to get away with things like that in person, right?!

 

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4 comments

  1. Rich (the one in NZ) says:

    Oh, I could have commented here. Whoops!

  2. Mary in SA says:

    charley charley – i miss you!!! you write so well. only wish i could bring cupcakes over :-) lots of love xx

  3. Becky says:

    Lol at the ps, you know me too well at any rate, I reckon I’m not the only one…

  4. […] have blogged a few times about my great fondness for the word ‘hope’.  So much so that it appears in my house a […]

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