The rest of my life

The rest of my life

“All I have to be is what you made me”, So sings Amy Grant (singer and song writer) as I write this, remembering listening to the same when I was a young person (with thanks to Alexa!). I have been crying most of the afternoon looking out at the garden (which is amazing by the way!!) feeling total and utter desolation and frustration that I am captive in my bed or chair not being able to do any of the things I could be doing and driving Duncan crazy as I try to get him to do some of those things.  But you know what he had told me?  “you should see yourself as Lord Grantham” – he does not seem to like it when I do though!

Amy Grant – a song

When the weight of all my dreams is resting heavy on my head and the thoughtful words of help and hope have all been nicely said but I’m still hurting, wondering if I’ll ever be the one I think I am – I think I am; then you gently re remind me that you’ve made me from the first and the more I try to be the best the more I get the worst and I realise the good in me is only there because of who you are and all I ever have to be is what you’ve made me any more or less would be a step outside of your plan as you daily recreate me help me always keep in mind that I only have to do what I can find and all I ever have to be; all I have to be is what you’ve made me.”

  • Universal Music publishing Group Amy Grant

I still find it excruciatingly painful that I am dealing with a stroke. It is horrific and at times I cannot bear it and wonder if I am going to wake up from the nightmare.  Last week I had a physiotherapy appointment and when I arrived it was clear I had been upset.  The Physiotherapist then took it upon herself to tell me how I need to accept my situation adapt to the way I live and be mindful of the need for rest and how difficult this will be for me given my previous lifestyle and my personality type.  I kept telling her I understood she then kept repeating this message to me and I kept reassuring her that I understood. I could not believe she was doing this. she was telling me what the problem was but she was not providing any answers!  Furthermore, she is not a counselling therapist but a physiotherapist who was clearly not going to do much physiotherapy that day! I was not brave enough to challenge her about this. It is incredibly difficult to be honest in a situation where the health care provider has the balance of power in their favour.  Later in the car on the way home Duncan tried carefully to be calm and remind me of the messages I was been given are true. I lost it completely. “Stop it just stop it. I know it is true “I get it” I shouted “but will someone please tell me what the answer is!” “please stop going on and on about it” I shouted. “I know I know but please tell me the answer not the problem!”

Why ?

Now my lovely friend Amy is singing it’s raining in my heart – thanks for that Amy!  I have tried to think how I feel inside about my quandary No! it is my complete and intense frustration and my desperate sadness and horror that I might be like this for the rest of my life … why oh why? Why has this happened to me?   It actually feels like I am being cored out like an apple ready for cooking! The other day we passed our local train station and then the Screwfix shop (yep Screwfix!) and it set me off again gulping down the tears because I used to enjoy travelling into London riding first class (of course – you get free coffee and other treats!) and I also used to bob back and forth to Screwfix to pick up materials the builders needed to continue work in the house. (and no, the two are not connected Screwfix and trains.) I got home, lay down on my bed for my required afternoon rest which I need to do every day (post stroke fatigue is yet another consequence of stroke.). it was overwhelming again. The intense sadness, pain and disbelief that I am in this situation. 

My therapeutic friend comes to the rescue!! I am not sure what the answer is. I will explore some ideas next time… for now though time for hunkering down to avoid spreading the virus and my sadness around!

3 thoughts on “The rest of my life

  1. Dear Peter

    I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly, as I’ve never engaged with blogs or social media like this (a bit of a Luddite or Conscientious Objector?), but, here goes …

    I have just read through your story and your blogs (again), and am so deeply touched by what I read. I have been following your journey (sorry, for the word!) closely with you over these last two years and have been living it in my own way from the sidelines and that has been so hard. You write of feeling powerless over so much of your life and situation and, as I sit here trying to think of something erudite or encouraging to say, I realise that I, too, feel powerless, and have felt powerless all the way through.

    What strikes me also, as I revisit those experiences in the hospital and look at those pictures, is that I still feel in deep shock. They are familiar. I’ve seen/heard about/witnessed them first hand on many occasions and yet still somewhere deep inside me I, too, can’t quite believe it and I feel shocked to my core at what has happened to you. I have a lot of personal and professional experience of various griefs and losses, but nothing quite like this. It is simply shocking and so deeply, deeply sad.

    I think your blogging is great and it is interesting to read of your take on daily life now, not just to get insights into the emotions that you feel when looking out at the garden from your bedroom window (though these are really helpful to give some degree of understanding into what it is like for you – along with the thoughts that go through your head), but by the way that you respond to life (e.g. the observations about watching people in Morrison’s). It is as if you are noticing some things for the first time and it has a poignancy about it, as well as a much deeper value in terms of connecting to humanity at large, relating to the human condition, and appreciating the day-to-day minutiae that make up people’s lives.

    There are no answers to the “why?” questions, but the wisdom enacted by your wonderful feline therapist of just being there and staying close to you seems to me to illustrate a great human and spiritual truth, and, as far as I can, I want to be able to be there for you too.

    Much love
    Val

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  2. Dearest Val. I am so grateful for your response as it shows me how much you care (which of course I already know and value you hugely). you have responded in just the correct way as others can read it and you will be sent an email to let you know when I post a blog again. Lots of love and thanks and of course the hugest of hugs!! xx

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  3. Have been reading your blog for the first time and have been terribly moved by it, as I was by the reply from your friend Val. She seems a very wise lady. Like her, I have no words of comfort and I can think of no response as to the ‘why you’. I too remember the strong, dynamic, enthusiastic Peter of old, how can you not grieve for him? You do have a wise old cat who does know the value of just being there, and if you ever feel the need to scream, yell or swear at the world , do pick up the phone and I am there to listen if it would help.Love to you both.xx

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