Slept pretty well overnight which I didn’t think I would with the ship being so still. Breakfast was served up on deck, which was nice especially as the scenery is so beautiful. Everyone is in good spirits despite the late night last night and hangovers this morning. First order of the day was to gather on the dock for the crew photographs. My first step, or should I say wheel, on foreign ground since I had my accident seven years ago! Several of the crew had to be woken up this morning so they arrived on the dock a little shell shocked. By the time we all got off the ship our old voyage friend was back – it was raining quite heavily. We had a whole crew photo first then split off for individual watch photos. I had our watch leader B strewn across my lap with H and S holding either her legs or upper body. It made for a good photo which was a bit more fun than just a row of people. The photo summed our voyage up nicely I think – a bit of rain, some laughs along the way and a great team spirit. By the way if you are reading this and was on this voyage and have a copy of the crew photos please get in touch as I would love to have a copy.
Here I am sitting waiting for hubby listening to the fizzle pop of rain falling on the car. Listening to to the tunes of U105 feeling melancholy and thinking of life. A life that seems to be running away so fast. Speeding along as if rushing to an important date or an exciting event. I don’t see death being either of those. So why does life flit by in the blink of an eye. How did we get to the middle of April without our feet barely touching the ground. Oh to be young again when time seemed to last forever. Where summer holidays lasted what seemed like years. Where school days lingered long. We all rush to grow up. To be an adult. To live life as we please. Only to find that adulthood is a ball and chain round your ankle. Where life is still not yours to do with what you want unless if course you were born into money. No! Adult life is far from the imaginings of a child. Life gradually speeds up in your twenties, hastens by in your thirties, and disappears in the blink of an eye in your forties, and I hate to think how quick it will go when I am in my fifties, sixties and seventies. I am certainly at the stage of life where I feel scared that it is nearly over. That I don’t have time left to do all that I want. That my stupid body prevents me from fully partaking in my life. That eight years of my life have slipped away with hardly a blink since becoming disabled. I often feel that I am on the outside looking in. Watching others having fun, having energy to go out, visit places I would love to go but are totally inaccessible to me. Places I long to see and experience. I never was one to stay on the beaten track, always being the person who wanted to go the long way, the challenging way, the way most would not generally go. Now I am confined to the beaten track asking constant questions like is it accessible, how much energy will it take, how long will it take to recover, how hard will it be for hubby. I have never been a dependant person, fiercely independent is what I am so I find it difficult asking for help, depending on others to lift and carry, and depending on someone to push me in the wheelchair. The main person who does this is my hubby. That is not what we planned for our married life. Not until we were ancient and nearing the end. This should be our time. Where son has grown up and our lives become our own. Where we can have fun and find ourselves as a couple again. Living in constant pain takes that away to some degree. We can’t be spontaneous everything has to be planned and mainly around one or two days a week, nothing can be planned for an evening on a work night and at least one day a week is given over to recovering from the immense effort involved with getting ready for work, driving too and from work and plastering on that smile for eight or so hours a day to hide the pain and exhaustion. Just so I can have four days a week where I feel normal. Well as normal as you can be with chronic pain. I often think how much harder my life would be without hubby. He is the one that keeps me going not just by helping me physically but mentally too. I am absolutely petrified of anything happening to him. Our life is so finally balanced managing my CRPS and Fibromyalgia it would only take something small for the table to tip and everything to come crashing down around our ears. Life is so so fragile, so unpredictable and so very short and I pray each and every day for equilibrium to be maintained at the very least.
Sometimes life can be strange. It has a tendency to throw one thing after another at you whether it be good or bad. I think I have had enough of a bad run lately and it is about time my fortunes turned to give me a better one.
What with a family member dying, two others ending up in hospital, a third due to go into hospital, my health just constantly bombarding me with one issue after another and then needing a new roof on the house, all within the short time since the beginning of the year 2016 I truly feel it is time for my luck to change. Continue reading →
Spa weekend at the Slieve Russell Hotel. Our room was on the top floor – the one with the arched window.
A few months ago I got it into my head that I wanted to go on a spa weekend with my hubby for our anniversary. Hubby wasn’t overly keen, however with a bit of work, he finally agreed to give it a go. I wasn’t sure if I would benefit from it due to the pain of CRPS and the rest of my medical issues. I was worried that massage would hurt too much or that I would not manage the additional moving around to use the facilities to the full benefit. Continue reading →
Quickly and with brilliant swiftness, it passes, sometimes with grace and others in cruelty. It moves at its one pace and does not wait for us. Often quiet in its progress, it yields to no one who attempts to stall its march.
Life is marked by its passage, through celebration, sadness and seasons. It is watched and worried over, caring little for the attention it receives. Dancing to its own complicated rhythm, in step with music that is hard to hear.
Full of sentimental longings of happiness and youth, full of anticipation for future adventures, its meaning shifts and changes like the stunning beauty of a sunset before darkness falls, sometimes on a starless night and others to the glory of a harvest moon, depending entirely on how we chose to honor it.
Reblogged from Sarcoidosis Soldier, words that resonated with me that I thought my readers would also appreciate. Thank you Sarcoidosis Soldier for posting.
It was very wet on watch last night! We were on the 8 pm to midnight watch and it never stopped raining once! It is becoming a very bumpy ride with the ship rolling, pitching, swaying and heaving through the sea, doing about 11 knots at one point! Not great for sea sick tummies and it doesn’t help that Lord Nelson seems to have a strange motion to her movement as well. Before going on watch I got myself feeling really sea sick when I was below deck because of the motion of the ship. Continue reading →
I wrote this in advance of the Parade of Sail which will be happening today.
Six years ago I stood on the end of the harbour wall in Carrickfergus and watched the ships do their parade of sail out on Belfast Lough after a fabulous Tall Ships Race festival. This was the last time that the tall ships came in en masse after a race across the Atlantic to Belfast. Continue reading →