She is not afraid of the snow

Recently Chris and I have been stocking up our fridge, freezer and pantry. The world is a very sad place and nothing is sure...

We aren't living in fear- we just think with the price of diesel, strikes, problems in distribution and so on, that it would be prudent to have some back up food in the house.

So far we have enough groceries to last us about six weeks on a planned menu that doesn't use all our reserves at once, yet nourishes us. I have a few extra packs and tins of cat food for Xena.

In line with this, I have been getting prescriptions filled promptly and buying extra diabetic supplies. Again, enough to last us about six weeks. And that includes pain killers for my fibromyalgia.

Already we have had distribution problems with shipping containers banked up on wharves and no workers willing to unload them. With all our various health issues that require many tablets a day to control plus insulin injections, we are aware that having a few weeks in advance if possible is also prudent.

My antidepressants weren't available for months and if I hadn't been wise, I would have had a meltdown. Fortunately I had a couple of boxes of them in obeyance. 

Whilst I don't advocate stocking up because of fear, it is not wrong to anticipate difficulties in obtaining basic supplies and acting accordingly.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks   

 

She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet-Proverbs 31:21

Cooking is a ministry

Lately with diabetes and heart failure causing Chris to lose his appetite, it has become more important than ever to prepare food for him that he enjoys.

Illness makes one's taste buds change and so the menu I prepare and the ingredients I buy constantly change.

I have to ask him on the day what he fancies to eat and I literally have to coax him to have some food. It can be very challenging.

In order to keep abreast of Chris's changing tastes in food, I keep a whiteboard on my fridge, jotting down things that he enjoyed and I glean Pinterest for ideas on meals. If Chris says he would like to try a recipe I find, it goes on that list too.

When my uncle lived with my mother, and later on my step-father, both of them lived beyond what the doctors expected (cancer and emphysema), and I credit that to Mum's good and plain cooking.

Chris knows this and forces himself to eat sometimes, but he never finishes a meal. Because a large plate of food nauseates him, I serve them in smaller plates. You learn as you go along.

I can well remember my ailing step-father Max sitting eating without obvious enjoyment and I asked him if he liked the meal. His answer has stayed in my mind to be implemented now in Chris's time of illness.

He said nothing was wrong with the meal, but his appetite was gone and he only eats because he knows he has to. And so I tell Chris when he refuses to eat. I remind him of what Max said. So he eats.

Nutritionally, all of Chris's blood tests come back normal. So he's getting enough iron and so on..

With cutting carbs and sugar as well as lack of teeth thrown into the mix, it can get frustrating at times. I make it a priority to include these needs into my prayer time each morning along with a request for necessary spoons (energy) with my fibromyalgia.

Apart from wisdom in meal preparation, God's been teaching me patience, kindness and endurance... and because nutrition is so important to us, I know the Man Who cooked breakfast for His disciples doesn't mind at all... cooking is a ministry!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks 

"When they landed, they saw a charcoal fire there with fish on it, and some bread. Jesus told them, “Bring some of the fish you have just caught.” So Simon Peter went aboard and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many, the net was not torn.

“Come, have breakfast,” Jesus said to them. None of the disciples dared to ask Him, “Who are You?” They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and He did the same with the fish." -John  21:9-12

Giving the gift of time well spent

As most of you who follow my blogs know, Chris and I not enjoying the best of health. We both are currently battling heart failure, diabetes and obesity brought on by the inactivity that comes with pain and age.

Gradually as the maladies make themselves more known and felt, we are aware that we probably won't make it to our 80th year.

Lately we have written a will and talked to our adult children of our final wishes. Unable to bear being apart, we have decided that we both want to be buried together, and to this end, we are currently getting information about prepaid funerals and plots of land at our local cemetery.

We have discussed Do not rescusitate orders and made our wishes known to our children. They were hesitant to talk about these matters, but we assured them that we need to sort it out, afterwhich we won't talk about it.

My stents in my heart are 15 years old and I am told I need new ones inserted, but I have refused  them as the previous 2 angiograms injured me. I simply don't want to have more surgery.  

Chris and I have made the choice that there won't be any more harmful surgeries. If I have a bad heart attack I do not want to be rescusitated.

I am ready for Jesus to either take me in the Rapture or call me Home. Either way is OK.

Chris is in really bad health with his own heart failure. I am aware of how little time we may have and I don't want to waste it.

So I am on the computer about an hour instead of all day. I have culled most groups etc but have not culled my friends.

Chris promised me he will update if I go Home. We just cant bear any more hospitals and tests etc- especially when they have done me harm in the past.

I am trusting the LORD instead of man and for the one who is left behind, we are giving the gift of time well spent.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. Psalm 116:15

For me, it's spoons!

It's Sunday morning here. I have brought in the online groceries and checked them off and put them away. 

I will soon be taking Chris's bloods and doing breakfast. Breakfast will be eggs and bacon and a cup of tea. Lunch will be ham and salad sandwiches. For dinner, I am doing a vegetable intensive beef stew. Fresh fruit for desert.

There's a hamper of clean clothes to fold and then I will be up to date with washing. Later I plan to make some coleslaw, if spoons permit. 

That's about it for today, except for cooking dinner. I don't want to put myself into another fibromyalgia flare or I won't have spoons to help my daughter tomorrow. As I always say: most jugglers juggle balls, for me it's spoons! 

I am too tired to shout!

Today is Monday morning. I have to do some washing and restack the dishwasher. I have run Sadie the Roomba and am about to do bloods, meds and breakfast. 

Later on at 11 a man is coming to do some flatpacks of furniture for us. I am hopeless at this and Chris can't do it anymore. It's a coffee table and TV lowline unit. It's $40 an hour but we had to factor that in when we bought them. It is what it is! 

At 2.30 we have to pick Dianne up and take her to a doctor's appointment. Then I have to go to the chemist and get her meds made up. 

It's supposed to rain for the next 10 days and the rain has been consistently heavy and constant. I think we are going to need an ark soon.  It is making my fibromyalgia worse, and I am pushing myself to get Di to doctors and physio. 

I will neverthless be busy with doctors and physio for the rest of the week and possibly next two weeks or more. I am glad Di's knee has been done though. It's all over bar the shouting! With no spoons at all, I am too tired to shout! 

It's a pain in the neck

 

Lately I have been trying to keep off the computer. I have had a horrid fibromyalgia flare and I suspect along with neck and shoulder pain, I have also got TMJ and polymyalgia rheumatica back as well.

We  recently sold our GMC Sierra ute and with no more vehicles needing a driveway to park on, we have turned our attention to finding another rented home. It has proven to be a nightmare.

There are not many affordable homes to rent and we find we are vying with up to 20 different people at a viewing, all hoping to get the same property. It is terribly stressful.

I think the stress has exacerbated my fibromyalgia. I have been clenching my jaw and this has seen my TMJ return. Without a blood test to check ESR creatines and so on, I can't say that my PMR has returned, but judging from the pain and inability to raise my arms, I would not be surprised.

I have done 5 loads of washing and dryed it in the dryer as it's too painful to hang it outside. I have run the dishwasher and been to the chemist to pick up my Januvia for my diabetes. Just that small bit of work has exhausted me. My spoons have left the building.

Lately I have been thinking it isn't worth moving, but the possums in the roof wake me up with their thumpings and scratchings and the cold weather has meant that central heating is calling my name and beckoning me to a newer more modern abode.

Just typing to you has stirred up all my sore muscles, and it's traveled down my arm. So I will be taking some paracetamol Osteo soon and maybe I'll be having a nana nap.

Fibromyalgia, PMR or plain arthritis makes for a bad day by any name. Whatever ails me, it boils down to the fact that today, it's a pain in the neck. 

 

Spoons aren't transferable

 

So this morning I needed a shower as I have an important appointment later on in the day. With being home most of the time, I have been fairly relaxed about it, but not today.

I did our bloods, gave Chris his insulin injection, ate breakfast and ran the shower. It was heaven on my aching muscles and I let the water run on my sore neck and back. I washed my hair and body and then started to feel weak.

Out of spoons, I sat on the side of the bath trying to catch my breath and get my second wind. It didn't come. 

By the time I had finally got dried and dressed, I was literally shaking and sick with fatigue.

Looking at the clock, I realised that in a few hours I will be leaving the house and walking around. Which normals think as normal, but us sufferers of fibromyalgia and other chronic illnesses know, we have to balance everything in the spoon equation. Once spent, they're gone! 

Sitting down to rest and trying to garner some spoons of energy, I realised once again that I simply cannot shower on days I have to go out to an appointment that simply cannot be postponed. 

You would think after 22 years of fibromyalgia that I would have learned that spoons aren't transferable.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

 So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.  Psalm 90:12

Chipping away at the stone

So my fibromyalgia is back with a passion, making every muscle ache. I tried to take a bath a couple of days ago and I had great difficulty getting out. I had to use a pillow under my knee and I had no other option than to lean on it to get up. It was so painful and the consequences are enormous.

I know I shouldn't have tried with both knees with torn menisci and other ligament damage.  I was in so much pain that I longed for a bath to hopefully relax my muscles. It didn't. Nor did it help my sore neck with another episode of polymyalgia rheumatica.

This constant pain is wearing me down. My doctor is too afraid to give me pain relief and I am considering changing doctors. This creates anxiety in me. And to top it all off, I have been cranky and not really a nice person to be near at the moment.

With Chris ill himself, I seem to be carrying everything myself with no help in sight. Take this morning for example. I put on a load of washing, cleaned Xena's litter tray and unloaded and loaded the dishwasher.

Testing our blood sugar level before breakfast,  I asked Chris what he wanted for breakfast. He told me what he wanted, just sitting there waiting for me to get it for him. I am sorry to report that I arced up and told him to get it himself.

I added some other truths about him acting like he's the only one with pain and that I am tired of being his servant when all he does is watch TV and sleep all day. You gotta understand, that usually this isn't an issue, but the pain has truly worn me down.

Chris asked me what I had done so far this morning. I told him and he replied that it isn't necessary to push myself like I am doing. Push myself? Doing minimum household chores?

I told him I was just trying to live a normal life and he replied, "But you aren't normal! You have got to realise that and accept it!" But in fact, what I do is pared down to the bone housekeeping compared to what it was even 10 years ago. How much less can I do and still manage to live a relatively clean and organised life? Single handedly.

Over the 23 years of having fibromyalgia I have had a determination like stone. I would not let fibromyalgia or indeed any of my other painful conditions control my life. And for the most part it hasn't. Until today. It's chipping away at the stone.

And a good sleep

So recently we have been told that we are low on magnesium and have been taking magnesium tablets. It is about 10 days now that we have taken them and although my muscles still pain me, both Chris and I have had less calf cramps.

I have noticed a deeper sleep for myself, though Chris still has trouble but also reports a more refreshing sleep when he manages to drop off. He has noticed that he has less restless leg at night. Any help is a blessing.

As a sufferer of fibromyalgia, I welcome anything that helps me hurt less and sleep better. As it's early days of taking the supplement, I live in hope that it will get even better in its' relaxing effects.

I know it is improving my sleep already because I usually cannot get back to sleep if I wake up early and it's getting light. But today, I woke up to the grey dawn and decided to try going back to bed after going to the bathroom. I managed to sleep until 9.50am. 

I was amazed by this, but had to have an inward chuckle as today was the day my cleaning lady comes at 10.30 and I hadn't done anything. I still needed to get dressed, take our bloods, give Chris his insulin injection, feed Xena and then feed us.

Usually I pick up any dirty clothes up off chairs in our rooms, stack the dishwasher, and empty rubbish from the mini rubbish bins around the house, plus check Xena's tray is clean before she comes. I don't want her wasting her time on stuff I can do- I want her to focus on what I can't do like washing the floors and cleaning the bathroom.

But today, I managed to tidy up so that the cleaner could just clean- but we still were eating breakfast when she arrived. So because we were late through sleeping in, she was surprised to see us still at the island bench, eating. 

It all worked out well and I am hoping that the magnesium's effect continues. Even if it's ten pills a morning now for us both to take. As long as they make our bodies think we are healthier than we are, it's all for a good cause. And a good sleep.

Lovely stuff

As a long time member of the Fibromyalgia Club, I usually wake feeling unrefreshed and aching all over. I have never been hit by a bus or train, but I would imagine that early morning stiff feeling would be akin to it.

Almost in a trance, I find my way to my kettle and turn it on. I grab the milk out of the fridge and proceed to take my blood to determine how much sugar I have in my diabetic old body. Like my weight, there is always too much of it.

Whilst the bread is toasting, I check my diary to see if there's anything we have to attend to or go to. With fibro fog my second nature now, I write everything down so that I don't forget it. In spite of aches and no spoons, if I don't have to leave the house today, I may do a little soft shoe shuffle. No wait- not a shoe shuffle- a slipper shuffle.

Really, it's sad when you come to think of it. A day with no appointments or shopping makes my day. I don't even care that the bins go out more than I do. 

Pyjama days are splendid days and I look forward to any excuse during a fibro flare to allow me to lounge around in my nightie and dressing gown. On days like that, it is enough that I brush my teeth and wash my hands. Forget the trauma of taking a shower. That's a good day job!

With high blood readings lately, I have had to be strict with limiting sugars, but because I hate my tea with none or worse still, with artificial sweeteners, I only allow myself one treat: a cup of white tea, one teaspoon of sugar. Stirred not shaken.

My first cup of tea in the morning is the one I enjoy the most, and I find I can limit tea sweetening during the day. Give me the joy of a refreshing, uplifting *sweetened* cuppa in the morning and I will be a reasonably happy little diabetic warrior the rest of the day.

Most people need a coffee in the morning, but for me, it's tea all the way. I can't live a happy life without my morning cup of tea with milk and one: it truly is lovely stuff.

 

I just want some breakfast!

I was minding my three young grandchildren this morning. It was a very early start at 4am with all three children waking up at 5am as soon as their parents left for the airport. I decided to feed them early in hopes that they would go back to bed....As the children told me what they wanted to have for breakfast, I listened to the chatter...

"Jess, you can't have Weeties, too many carbs!" "No, Liam! I am allowed bacon and eggs: Mum said I can have that cos it's got no carbs, and I'm on a fat and no carb diet!" I had to referee a fight over Jess not taking sugar in her tea whilst Liam piled his on his cereal....he is not on a diet! In fact, he could gain a pound or 2, whereas Jess takes after her Nana...ahem! Yes, life could be so unfair! Sighing, I glanced at the clock: 5:45 am and the day was still young!

Getting a bottle for Thomas, I smiled to myself: he is too young to care what goes into his bottle and he accepted it with his characteristic grin and good nature (except for this morning at 5am's outburst of horror as he realised that Mum had gone. But I digress)...Catching the morning's Nutritional Goodness theme, I mentally made a note of calcium benefits for him.

It was then time for me to have breakfast and I found myself staring blankly into the pantry, trying to keep awake. As my hand reached out for the Sugar Frosties, Liam piped up with, "Hey, Nan, they're full of sugar: are you allowed to have sugar? Sugar's not good for you: Mum said I can't have too much cos it makes me hyper!" I thought guiltily about my diabetes and I put it back!

Knowing that the smell of toast would be too much of a temptation for young Jessica to resist, I decided that I would forgo that this morning and instead I grabbed a tin of tuna as a high protein choice. But my little shadow informed me that his Mum had bought just enough tins for Dad's high protein/no carbs diet next week. Guilty again, I put it back in its place in line with the others.

My stomach was growling by now and I was getting desperate for something to fill it. Better be something healthy today I thought with an inwards chuckle. Not wanting to be warned off anything else, I made myself a cup of tea without sugar and grabbed a piece of rye bread sans butter and slowly chewed on it...

The kids returned to bed and I crept back out into the kitchen: I don't care what my diet conscious grandchildren think: I just want some breakfast! I grabbed the sugar loaded cereal and put some sugar in my tea. What they don't know won't hurt them, but please don't tell their parents!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

"A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken" Proverbs 15:13

The only nice thing about it

So we went to the doctor yesterday to get our results from blood tests taken a few days ago. My blood pressure was 140/90 which was slightly better than last time, but still high.

He asked was anything bothering me and I had to tell him I am worried about Chris. Both of us have heart failure, high blood pressure, diabetes and cellulitis plus I have fibromyalgia. 

We both have pitting oedema on our feet and legs and the fatigue that comes from obesity and feeling sick. Dressing and showering is shared in that we help each other and because of exhaustion from showering, we shower every second day, taking opposite days. That way, we can help each other.

Our love language is touch in the form of massaging each other's feet and legs and our speech revolves around spoons and how much sugar is in everything that passes our lips.

We rarely leave home any more except for the doctor or chemist and our rubbish bins go out more than us. The highlight of our day is to discover we don't have any appointments or need a blood test. We are extremely relieved to know we can just stay home and have a PJ day.

It is unusual to call on us and not find at least one of us having a nana nap, particularly if we haven't slept well the night before.

When massaging Chris's feet or watching him sleep upright so that he doesn't feel like he's drowning in his fluid, I become anxious about how ill he looks and I fret that I will lose him.

I can't bear to think of that and when I do, I have to give it to the LORD in prayer and trust that He will grant us more time together.

All this angst does nothing to alleviate my fibromyalgia pain or help me get over a flare and I find myself taking mild pain relief every 6 hours. As the doctor advised.

Our home is able to be company ready in half an hour as it is basically tidy all the time. True, there may be slippers in the lounge or a cup on the table, but this can easily be fixed. I just close our bedroom doors to hide the permanently clean but unmade beds.

We love our home as we feel it nurtures us and even though we only may be gone a few hours when we have to go out, we find we are really looking forward to coming home again.

When we were engaged, we agreed that it would be nice to grow old together and we have. Twenty-five years later, it isn't so nice. But thank goodness we have each other and that's the only nice thing about it.

We both are spoilt girls

With heart failure and certain blood pressure tablets, my feet and legs puff up with fluid. I have pitting oedema which means that the indent when a finger is pressed on the limb, stays for a long time. My heart is not working as it should.

At the end of the day, when we watch TV together, Chris will automatically reach for my feet and gently massage them, rubbing the fluid upward towards the heart. He also rubs my toes which burn and sting with neuropathy from diabetes.

The other night as Chris rubbed my foot, Xena jumped up onto the couch and lay beside me. Not wanting to miss out on cuddles, she put her paw up on Chris's arm, purring loudly. It was a lovely relaxing time and helped lift our depression. 

Neither Chris or I are doing too well physically at the moment. Chris's sugars are uncontrolled and he has fluid on his lungs from heart failure.

Such is the loving nature of this man that he rubs my feet continually, even when he needs his own done. I do rub his feet and legs at least once a day and when I cut his toe nails for him. But it must be said that his ministrations to me are more frequent than mine to him. I simply have no spoons at the end of the day. 

I manage the house with all that entails and Chris knows that my spoons are in short supply, especially with a fibromyalgia flare, and so he seeks to bring me some comfort and pleasure at the end of the day.

Xena seems to pick up on the loving atmosphere and always makes sure she's between us in order to be included in the cuddles. 

She loves her Daddy too and we consider her as our feline child-and because she loves her Mummy as well, she purrs contentedly as she wonders which one of us is a spoilt girl. We both are spoilt girls.

This too will pass

 

It's been nearly a week without spoons. I have absolutely no energy to speak of and have just been focussing on keeping the clothes washed, kitchen clean and cooking.

I suppose it's my fault. With some recent spoons, I probably overdid it and hence the Flare of Flares. It's sort of predictable with fibromyalgia. But I was hoping to break out of the pain/fatigue cycle. I haven't.

 

The doctor has become concerned about my blood pressure being high 160/90 and has been trying to get me to give myself a once a week injection of a drug that's supposed to help me lose weight as well as keep the sugars low. I don't want it.

My feelings are that once you inject something, you have to put up with any side-effects for another week, unlike oral tablets that you have some control over. You can stop taking them: not so with injections. Yes, you can stop using them but the chemical is in your system for a week.

I am sick enough with the antibiotics I am taking for suspected cellulitis in my leg. They are very rugged and have given me thrush as well. But I need to finish the course to heal my leg.

So because I have an infection, I am listening to my body and taking a nana nap if I need it. And I don't feel guilty for napping.

I am trying to keep upbeat and not stress too much. It's hard for me as Chris is suffering with his heart failure as well.

I know better days must come and that's why I chose the picture above. With prayer and leaning on the LORD, this phrase often comes to mind:  "this too will pass" and it will- eventually. 

The fruits will be there

As a chronically ill woman who truly doesn’t eat much, my weight gain is mainly inactivity and taking Prednisolone and other drugs for depression and polymyalgia rheumatica etc. If I dwelt on weight gain and my consequent obesity, I would be so depressed that I wouldn’t have time to write for the LORD, or feel close to Him. 

Having said that, it is my intention to give my eating to God and ask for His help in making good food choices, and in self control.  I will try to exercise gently by walking and seeking out a swimming pool so that I can exercise without hurting my muscles, back and torn meniscus. It will be a balancing act so as not to bring on a new flare of my fibromyalgia or an angina attack. 

Because obesity can effect our spirit, I would say that we have to bring negative thoughts about our bodies and weight loss in general, into the captivity of Christ and not allow it to distract us from what He has for our life. 

In practice,  healthy weight loss will take time and it will be necessary to be patient with my body as it slowly releases the fat and comes into subjection. For it is going to be a battle: I know that, and it is a battle I simply must win.

In starting each day, I will be asking God for wisdom in what to eat and when. I will be making losing weight a priority after God, one which I know is in His will and that will please Him.

I am expecting a very slow reduction in my BMI, a very slow introduction to movement and a rather rapid new intake of water daily. In return I am expecting a reduction in blood pressure, pain with arthritis, depression, GERD, and lower HBA1 C for my diabetes. I am expecting a reduction in medications. 

Boring subject that it is, nevertheless weight loss is often so depressing and consuming that it can distract us from our relationship with Jesus. In fact, weight loss can become an idol. We must avoid becoming obsessive with it.

A new outlook has taken me to seeing that loving myself enough to lose the weight that is literally killing me is pleasing to God. He wants the best for me. So knowing this, I can rely on help from the Holy Spirit in putting an end to living trapped in a sick and grossly overweight body. 

I have tried diet pills in the past, but they made me anxious, wound up and irritable. I can't take them. Even if I diet and don't lose weight, at least I will know that I have lived trying to look after my body.

Love for God and pleasing Him,  joy in obedience in the journey, peace in being proactive, patience in the struggle, kindness to myself when I stumble, will produce a woman who is feeling better and more able to be kind, good, faithful and gentle, through obedience to God through self-control. After repentance and obedience, the fruits will be there. 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law. Galatians 5:22-23

Sex isn't everything.

This picture reminds me of Chris and I in the kitchen... I often can be washing the dishes and he will come behind me for a cuddle.. I still blush and giggle like a school girl!  I usually go weak at the knees when he kisses the back of my neck, and I turn around and kiss him passionately.  Finally, we break away, breathless with romance and laughter!  Most times, he then pitches in and helps me finish washing up.

This little dalliance of ours to us is quite romantic and that coupled with the fact that Chris helps me with the dishes, makes me feel nurtured and happy- it doesn't take a lot for me! Which is good, because money is short for a lot of flowers and chocolates.

We do go out together for meals whenever we can salt away a little money.  Nothing too expensive, but we bring our own ambiance!  Just looking into each others' eyes and holding hands over the table reminds us of our early days together and keeps us focused on each other.  Truly, we do adore each other.

Because money is in short supply, and because we constantly laugh together and cuddle often, we feel that special occasions such as Christmas, birthdays and Valentines' Day aren't necessary to show affection and love. We in fact, do not buy gifts for these for each other. And it is perfectly fine with us. We do, however look at our wedding photos and reminisce a lot on our anniversary or any other date significant to us...

I think it may be the fact that we are an older married couple that makes it easier to see romance in ways that younger couples don't.  With age and fibromyalgia and heart and back problems and Chris with his diabetes, sex is either umcomfortable or impossible. So both Chris and I look forward to a bubble bath at home with a good back wash and nail trims or a foot or back massage.  We do that for each other on a regular basis. To us, nurture is romance!

Chris loves me bringing his breakfast into him in the morning. This to him is romantic and although his not buying me presents and sending me cards may seem that he is an unromantic man, nothing could be further from the truth.  He sings to me! We have some special songs that he says were written just for us, and he will play them on the computer, and take me in his arms and croon to me as we dance slowly round the living room.

Because I am often in hospital, Chris shows his care by staying with me most of the day until visiting hours are over, just stroking my hair and holding my hand. Or he will come with our laptop and headphones for me. My heart melts with love for him.  We can't stand to be away from each other.

Illness, medications, no spoons and age have curtailed our times of intimacy, but we manage to show love to each other in ways that are imaginative, erotic and very caring.  There is absolutely no thoughts of unmet needs- love can be expressed in ways other than full sexual intercourse, and we delight in each other regardless! If sex happens, it's a bonus!

So we don't care about no presents or cards for Christmas, or birthdays or Valentines' Day-  with the romantic sparks that still fly between us, and our little dalliances, every day is Valentines' Day. 

I thank God for Chris as I am one very blessed wife, and I tell him often.... he finds that very romantic too! We are proof that you can live without sex! Sex isn't everything! (This post has been written with my husbands' permission)

My eternal quest

 

I slept well last night but still had no spoons to speak of. After a morning of minimal chores, I sat down next to Chris to watch the birds coming to eat the food I had thrown out for them.

Because of my heart failure, my feet and legs are up like balloons and Chris rubs them for me to help move the fluid up towards my heart. With neuropathy from my diabetes, he rubs my toes to move the blood around and help the circulation. It is heavenly.

Suddenly, I heard sonorous sounds that woke me up: to my horror, it was me snoring! Chris just laughed when he saw that I had woken myself up and suggested I try to get some more sleep before lunch. But the moment was lost and I got up and made some grilled toasties for our lunch.

I soaked the few dishes in hot soapy water, removed a small leg of lamb from the freezer, did some computer work and fell asleep at the screen. So I went for a nana nap as that's the only thing I can do with a fibromyalgia flare.

After I napped, I put the lamb on to roast and completed the dishwashing. We ate dinner and Chris cleared up the kitchen. We took our night medications and Chris watched TV while I blogged.

And so, here I sit, talking to you and longing for my bed again. I had no joy today finding some spoons and it may well be that tomorrow I will be pursuing my search again- it is my eternal quest.

Giving in is not giving up!

Yesterday I came to the realisation that my fibromyalgia is not going to get any better. Nor is my diabetes, hole in the heart, back pain, angina, asthma or torn meniscus. 

My blood sugars are also high, but not as high as Chris's, but it is a warning to me as well. I certainly do not want to go through what Chris is going through with trying to get the right amount of insulin and the horrid symptoms he endures.

My hole in the heart means my right lung is not oxygenating properly and because I need a fourth stent which I have refused (another story), I have constant stable angina. And asthma on exertion.

My blood pressure is high as the pain from my back and torn meniscus in my knee is bad. Finally, with Chris being ill now, my depression is back. I hurt when he is hurting.

Like any Sacrificial Home Keeper, I am trying to keep my home clean and tidy and here I too am failing. I see no end to it...

I was talking to my twin sister yesterday and she said that it is possible to get a bit of subsidised home help through the Australian Government's Age Care plan. So I applied and am going to be assessed tomorrow. I am eligible, as I am now 67 and my husband is 70  and is unable to do housework with me.

I can do some housework if it is waist level: dishes, cooking, washing, dusting. But I cannot even sweep let alone vacuum or wash my floors, as my tendons and muscles scream for mercy with my fibromyalgia and my back joins in sympathy, followed by angina and asthma. So basically I need someone to clean my floors and to change our bed.

As a woman who has been a house keeper since 1969 and brought up five children, it really galls me that I have to admit that I cannot maintain my own home by myself anymore. 

So, I am giving in trying to keep up like before when I was well. But I still will be doing meal planning, grocery shopping (online),  cooking, cleaning my kitchen including dishes, bill paying and budgeting, washing, ironing as needed, refilling prescriptions, social planning and gift buying, looking after Xena our cat, and most importantly, looking after Chris's and my health.

In saying I am giving in trying to be strong like before, I am not giving up: one way or another, my home will be clean! 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent. Psalm 71:9

Any age is precious in God's sight.

So my husband, Chris has been in Emergency at our local hospital a few days ago. Nothing major, just getting his insulin sorted. A registrar who was looking after him popped her head in and asked him a question that floored us.

"In light of your age, we need to know if something happened to you, God forbid, do you want us to perform CPR? Yes? well then I need to inform you of possible side effects of that!.... if your heart stops and we have to do CPR, there's a possibility that you could have fractured ribs or sternum. If your brain has been starved of oxygen for any length of time, you could end up a vegetable..."  "At which point, you can then pull the plug!" I interjected.... "Very well, that has been noted!" and then she exited with her paperwork that Chris had signed....

We just looked at each other with open mouths, quite incredulous at what she implied. "In light of your age.." Chris is 69 nearly 70, which is certainly not that old in my book. The implications were that as we are closer to 70 than 60, we are ready to fall off our perch and are not considered of enough value to fight to save.

With recent hospitalisations of my family- aged 67 and over- the reports have been that compassion is lacking. There is a distinct lack of compassionate care which is starkly obvious when compared to past years as a younger patient. Even my (then) 80 year old aunt always said that they let the old ones die. I considered that a gross exaggeration: now I am not so sure.

Our younger generation are being brought up on the idea that the older people in society are a blight on their economy and are easily disposable. Seventy years of age is the cut off point for their tolerance and forbearance. The inference is just go on and die and get it over with!

The government in Australia is phasing in the aged pension only to workers of seventy years of age. In fact, instead of the previous 65 year retirement age, I was made to wait until I was 65.5! Others will have to wait until they are 67 to retire and get a pension: a pension to which they have contributed all their working life. They are aiming to eventually make retirement age 70!

It is interesting that we Australians are considered able to work till 70 but are classified as old and at risk of dying from complications of Corona Virus at over 60!  Maybe the young ones would prefer we start dying off at 60? We can't encumber them with more expense or taxing of the health services!

It seems to me that the most vulnerable of society: the unborn and the aged, are getting phased out of their right to live. This just leaves us a window of acceptable longevity from birth to 60 if we are lucky.

There is no delight in a baby's impending birth or compassion for the ill retiree: we are worthless in society and therefore totally disposable.

From the womb to the grave, our worth in the world is based on someone's warped opinion of us. If we don't measure up to standard, we are terminated or encouraged to roll over and die.

Prophecy is unfolding just as foretold: the love of many has grown cold as the love of money has increased. The unborn and aged are precious only in God's sight. 

His judgement of us is that we are valuable from conception to death..... Maranatha, Lord Jesus! We are precious in God's sight at any age! 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God: I am the LORD. Leviticus 19:32 and The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness Proverbs 16:31