Tales from bed 5

A week ago today, I was bawling my eyes out in hospital, whilst getting fluids intravenously in preparation for yet another surgery to take place the following day.

Bawling my eyes out because I was -

a) tired from lack of sleep due to anxiety and worry

b) tired emotionally

c) put on the geriatric ward

Lets talk about point c. 

Seriously, I was put on a ward full of sick helpless elderly people, some of them, as bad as it sounds, seemingly on their way to the next life. This is not the place you put someone who is about to have her 7th surgery in 5 years!

Unfortunately, I was a victim of the changes in the NHS, the cutbacks....hey thanks for that coalition government! 

But back to Wednesday 17th April 2013. 

I checked into hospital at 2.30pm, into surgical reception, where I was examined by a very lovely doctor from my surgical team. By 3pm, the cannula was in - first try, praise Jesus! 

4pm....still in surgical reception waiting on a bed... 

At 5pm, the doctor decides enough waiting, he's going to start the fluids in surgical reception....I mean that was the whole point of checking into hospital a day early, so I could get fluids and ensure I was hydrated for the surgery. One has to always take into account the sickle cell factor and make sure everything possible is done so I am at the healthiest I can be on that operating table - blood exchange transfusion had been done successfully, and thankfully painlessly, the previous Friday (again cannula's inserted in both arms on the first try - I know after the drama with the last exchange transfusions in February and October last year, my Mama was praying with her every being that they find veins and they did, first bleemin try!)

But I digress - so it's 5pm and I am sitting in surgical reception hooked up to my bag of fluids with my assorted 'vital for hospital stay' belongings scattered all around me - just in case you were wondering, these consist of kindle, ipod, Reader's Digest, Take a Breaks puzzles, ribena, M&S flapjack cookies, bottle of water, blackberry and nokia phones. My over-night bag had been taken away and kept by a nice nurse as it was too cumbersome to log around with a bag of fluids attached to and thereby incapacitating one arm.

Anyway, finally at 5.30pm I am informed they've got a bed for me. Yay me...until I get to the 7th floor, enter the ward and as we are proceeding to bed 5, realise that all the beds we are passing are full of old, really OLD patients. 

Surely a mistakes been made. 

But alas no, it's the only bed available in the entire hospital I am told. I am also told reassuringly that it is only for one night, after the surgery I will be taken to a surgical ward.

I would like to say I took this reassurance in a good way and settled down like the adult that I am, after all it's only for one night. Yeah right! Go back to the first paragraph above and read the part about bawling my eyes out.

I am not ashamed to say I cried like it was the end...cried so much I'm sure Mama, Aunty J, Cuz S, and Dr Lil were sure it was the end!

Not like they were there with me or anything....did I forget to mention that I had the bright idea of doing this on my own, checking into hospital, going into surgery and checking out...all on my own! As such I had informed all supportive parties that they were banned from the hospital.

Well I realised the stupidity of that decision when I was sitting on bed 5 bawling on the phone to the above-mentioned peeps whilst staring across at a patient who I wasn't quite sure was going to make it through the night.

But short of ripping the cannula out of my arm, grabbing my stuff and storming out, I was stuck. So I drew my curtains, isolated myself as best as I could and settled in.

The upside of the geriatric ward is - it's the geriatric ward, patients are sick and helpless and mostly immobile, so I had the bathroom to myself. The downside, immobile does not mean bodily functions stop...and unfortunately this means, bathroom stuff happens at the bedside - sweet lord the smells I dealt with....there are no words...no words!

But I am a flippin trooper, if I do say so myself. I have been reared to deal with the crap life throws, one breath at a time - with a smile on my friggin face (after bawling of course, one has to bawl!)

So I hang in there all night...very uncomfortable, highly irritable and just generally fed up with everything...but I deal. And I try to get my mind, soul and entire being into a good place because I had a surgery to get through.

And I'm happy to report I did. It helped of course that Mama and Aunty J, ignoring the ban, showed up first thing in the morning to help get my spirits up.

But I got through my stay in bed 5...and through the surgery...and through my 5 hour stay in the recovery room post-surgery...but that's a story for another time. 

Like I said...trooper!

O Fortuna, velut luna, statu variabilis...

Mo ti gba kamu that, there but for the grace of God...

That's what I learnt from 2012 and the motto I intend to take into 2013.

For the non-yoruba's 'mo ti gba kamu' means either the simple 'I have accepted' or the deeper 'I have accepted my fate without arguing or fighting against it'.

So on this last day of 2012, I raise my hands up to the heavens and proclaim to the world that, from now onwards I shall accept without hesitation the whims and fancies of fate.

How do I reconcile that with my belief expressed earlier in the year that we humans to an extent have free will, as opposed to being at the mercy of destiny and operating under the illusion of free will?

I don't think I need to. Hear me out -

Everyday we face situations where choices have to be made and decisions have to be taken; we have been equipped with the ability to make a choice, the consequences of which we must live with....that's free will.

But...

Sometimes we face situations where we lack control, where the choice and the decision are out of our hands but despite that, we will still have to live with whatever consequence may arise from that situation.

Or it may be that despite using our free will to make a decision, and despite making the only viable decision any reasonable person faced with the same set of circumstances may have made, and despite rightly considering every possible foreseeable consequence of that decision; the gods allow the happening of some other conclusion, neither foreseen nor contemplated....and we will have no choice but to live with it.

And that is the point where we have to 'gba kamu'. Accept the hands of fate and deal.

I have realised that it is usually with this latter situation, where we lack control, that those of us who believe, begin to seek the mercies of God. We cry, we plead, we barter, we beg. We hold on tightly to our faith and our belief that God is love. He loves us and will let all things work together for good to them that love God (Romans 8:28). But see here's the thing - who knows the workings of the mind of God. Who knows the reasonings behind his acts. Why do we presume that we can control him or that what we want for us is what he wants.

We are at his whims, it is by his grace, and life would be so much easier if we simply lived it making the best decisions within our ability, and accepting whatever consequence may arise as a result of the decisions made...and where we lack control to even make a decision, again simply accept and try to deal with whatever situation we may find ourselves in.

Simply gba kamu that, there but for the grace of God or the whims of the fates.


Title is from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana and translated means O Fortune, like the moon, ever changing. 

Happy New Year in advance to everybody, may the hands of fate be kind to us in 2013, may the grace of God be with us and be favourable to us through the year. 

God bless xx

...

My faith is shaken
The trust is broken

You keep your promises
Your word is settled
This I believed

You hear our cries
Our pleas for help
This I believed

And so we cried
We pleaded
We thanked
And I believed

For you keep your promises
Your word is settled
Or so I believed

But now it's done
It's over
He's gone
And so I fear
Is my belief?

Take me to a place I don't care, this is me and my liquor store blues...

The birthday is done, the party is over, the euphoria has settled.

It's crazy I've only been in Gidi for a week but it feels like I've been here longer and right now I've got my mind on Welwyn and Welwyn on my mind.

Don't get me wrong I have no problem with Gidi beyond the problems every sane person has living in an insane environment. I have loved being among family and friends and will miss them badly when I leave BUT here's the thing, I hate the person I am during this trip. It's like being here has highlighted all the things I detest about myself. I am constantly on edge and irritated with almost everyone. I am uncomfortable and completely uneasy with almost everything and everyone. And it's evident in my thoughts, my words, and my deeds. I hate that I am being a spoilt whiny hard to please complainant. It's not a good look and I need to shake it off now!

I think it's the lack of control and independence I experience in Gidi. I've had a taste of independence and I've discovered I love it. I like being hidden away in Welwyn, in control of my own environment, with the ability to do what I want, when I want, how I want. Also selfishly I like that I don't have to care or give a damn or make allowances for others because family relationship or tradition dictates I must.

I really hate who I am being right now but I am a great believer (when it suits me) of mind over matter so for my remaining Gidi time I am going to shake it off and remember, or at the very least pretend, that I am an adult and behave accordingly!!!


Title is Bruno Mar's Liquor Store Blues simply because....well the line is self-explanatory isn't it :)

...

For many reasons I wasn't going to do this, to write about this. For one I didn't think I'd be articulate, or that the post would convey any meaningful point. But as the day progresses and my mind continues to whirl I fig...who gives a damn about being articulate or conveying messages. My writing is about working through my thought processes and sorting out my emotions.

I knew people on the flight but I didn't know people on the flight. I mean there was a guy I went on a couple of dates with yonks ago, an ex-secondary school mate, an ex-primary school mate, friends of friends but no one I'd spoken to in the last 2/3 years...so why the mind whirl?

The sadness of the whole damn situation. The lives lost. 153 on the plane, no word on those on the ground.

So damn sad. I can't even begin to imagine what they went through in their final moments or what their families and friends are going through now. I can only pray for God's mercy on their souls and His grace, mercy and comfort for those left behind.

But as I pray, my mind registers that I am also disappointed. No, not at God but at myself, my people, my government, my country.

It didn't need to happen, it shouldn't have happened. It wasn't an accident, at best it was negligence...no scratch that wilful negligence was what it was. And the absolute killer is the fact that there is nothing stopping it happening tomorrow, next week, month or year.

We'll rage, we'll cry, we'll mourn...then typical for my people...except the family of those affected...we'll forget. Till the next one happens, and trust me, until things change, attitudes change, and people begin to give a damn about other people and the consequences of their actions, to stop being consumed by the almighty dollar...it will happen again...and again...and again. I mean it's happened how many times now?

And so my mind whirls with sadness and disappointment, and fear. Fear because the next time, it may be me or one of my brothers, or my dad, or bffl...after all we've all made that journey, we've all travelled that route...heck some of us have used that airline on that route. It could have been any of us yesterday. That's my fear.

So sadness, disappointment and fear, and helplessness. Helplessness because as much as I recognise that something has to change, something has to give, I don't know what or how that change will be effected. I don't have any answers, I can't make any suggestions...I just don't know. And I am even more disappointed in myself for that.

Speak to us of Reason and Passion

Title is from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet.

Big V's literary tastes lean towards what I like to call higher/deeper learning. His reading material tends to be sources of enlightenment and knowledge...so poetry, biographies...Kahlil Gibran, the Dalai Lama etc. In the past he has attempted to get me to read parts of these books that in his opinion will be beneficial to me, help me to find that zen like place within that would aid with my health and general well-being. Suffice to say it hasn't worked, probably because he makes his attempts at the most inopportune moments...when I'm slap bang in the midst of a crisis is mos def not the best time to talk meditation and higher planes and rising above the pain, if the words tramadol or oxycodone aren't coming out of your mouth, keep schtum!!!

But I have read some of these books and whilst they may not have aided in helping deal with the physical side of my being, I must confess that in healthier times I have enjoyed and learnt a thing or two from them...at the very least they make me think and contemplate and reflect.

And right now, at this moment, I've got the passage on Reason and Passion from The Prophet on my mind. 

Kahlil Gibran wrote that - 

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgement wage war against your passion and your appetite....Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to it's own destruction.

So the idea is we must find some balance between in essence our mind and our desires...I initially typed heart but for me (though most may disagree) I don't believe heart is simply ruled by passion - by love, by compassion, yes - but passion to me denotes the throwing of caution to the wind and I don't necessarily think going purely by heart means throwing all caution away.

Anyway the reason this passage is on my mind is because I am trying to find some of this balance in my life. I am naturally wired to be ruled by my mind, by reason...this doesn't mean that the war with passion is not going on in my soul...

There's this quote from a book that's more my style than Big V's...first of all its fiction and it's romance (Judith McNaught's Double Standards)...Big V I suspect would rather gouge his eyes out...but anyway I think it sums me up...

What I am is the confused product of a semi-puritanical upbringing and a liberal education. Which means I think it's wrong for me to do anything, but I think it's perfectly all right for other people to do whatever they want.

As soon as passion rears it's head in my life and attempts to rule my actions, 8 times out of 10 reason takes over. I would love passion to win more because reason is a confining controlling source. Even better I would like to find the balance Kahlil G speaks of, he says to consider them like 2 house guests, writing - Surely you would not honour one guest above the other.

Here's hoping I find a way :-)

Free will v Destiny

This was the topic of conversation between me and a neighbour on our morning commute yesterday. Its a 15 minute journey so I can't say we really delved into it deeply but before I get into that here's a little background information...

I don't know my neighbour's name, in fact I can't say for sure that he is my neighbour but I assume he lives in the neighbourhood as we have bumped into each other a number of times and he is one of the usual faces I see on my morning commute into work. Mr Neighbour is one of those interesting people you come across in life with whom you tend to have the weirdest conversations. The first time I saw him (a couple of years ago) he stared at my boots, the sweater Uggs, for the entire bus ride..then as we got off asked how I got the smell out when they got damped/soaked in the rain...no hello, no hi...just how do you get them to stop smelling...I smiled and said I hadn't ever noticed them smelling and walked rapidly away. Another time I bumped into him and he started a conversation on home renovations, informing me that he was in the middle of a bathroom renovation, apparently updating the old avocado coloured suite...it was a cold windy wintry day and my eyes began watering...noticing he said he didn't realise I was a huge avocado fan...I must admit I found that funny.

Anyway I bumped into him yesterday and the free will v destiny convo somehow began...I don't know how but I vaguely remember talking about Mills & Boon novels and the concept that it can be argued that they are female empowering in that they depict men being brought down to their knees by women...discussion for another day but rest assured that is not a theory I support and I have read, and not ashamed to admit, I own some old copies of those novels!

So free will v destiny. Mr Neighbour firmly believes or at least implied yesterday that we have absolutely no choice in life but what we operate under is the illusion of free will. I disagree. I accept that to an extent...do not ask me to define how much...but to an extent destiny plays a part in our lives but as humans we make choices and deal with the fall out of those choices. I refuse to accept that we are completely under the mercy of destiny because to me that not only takes away our power to determine our life as we wish it to be but it also helps us cop out and gives us an excuse not to take responsibility for the shitty consequences of the crappy choices we may make and the latter more so than the former is unacceptable to me. There are people in this world who make conscious bad choices and should not be allowed to operate under the notion that they are not responsible for the consequences of said bad choices.

Like I said it was a 15 minute commute so we could not delve deeply into the discussion (or according to other passengers argument) so we decided to shelve it till next time...Mr Neighbour did however leave with the parting shot of calling me an 'existentialist'...haa!!! I think not!!!