Not a word from me tonight
Of things that trouble and hurt
Just a word or two
Of storms and clouds
Of a strawberry and a tomato
Picked from my garden
And a lettuce leaf as well
Do you think anyone knows what its like behind the scenes for any of us who are alone and chronically ill ? I know one dear man in Armidale who has had a liver transplant and now is getting skin cancers and many painful surgeries.
We all josh around.
WE all appear in the Outside world when we are able.
But at home and in hospital and on our sick days ……….. does anyone see the fine line across which is stark raving madness or despair ?
The ritualistic patterns I have formed like scaffold around me – preventing total collapse. The re-forming within that.
And does anyone see the shaking Earth that spasms unexpectedly – The thought of life with Izzy there. So much richer and easier. When I was cherished and cherished. The sudden desire to vomit.
The waking in the morning and wondering just how well I will be that day.
Will I be able to walk today ?
Will I be able to eat ?
Will I be able to bend and dress ?
My mind rumbles over to all the people who have already gone ahead of me.
Then I set to work strengthening the Scaffolding. I take some photographs. Visually my life makes sense to me in these days where words matter very little.
These beautiful lines that suit perfectly were written not by me. They were written by Van Badham .
I love them.
“He appeared in my life as some kind of sage, or wizard – a Gandalf or Merlin – grey-bearded, wise to the world, stepping out from the edge of a grey forest at a crossroads, and, smiling, nudging me gently towards my true way.”
PHIL : Today is my 5 year sepsis survivor anniversary! I was going to write something profound, but really not sure what to write… just an encouragement to those of you who are early on in your recovery… things do improve as the years go by… maybe not as quickly as you may want though. 5 years on and I still have some issues (mainly cognitive), but I work, I am here to be Dad to my 3 boys and husband to my wife, I play badminton every 2 weeks, life carries on, and we learn to work around the issues I am left with. My family affectionately call my memory ‘daddies spaghetti brain’!
It takes time to heal, by kind to yourselves, pace – don’t rush, eat well – sleep well, share your emotions with someone you can trust – don’t try to hide them away… it’s ok to not be ‘ok’. I still find it hard to talk about what happened without being a bit weepy! My wife thinks I might gain something from some counselling sessions, and she is probably right, but not sure if I am ready to talk in detail about everything that happened… yes, I still hide some of that away!! Anyhow, life carries on… keep going, don’t give up.
Thank you God for saving me. All the best to all of you. Phil.
