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

I think I could sleep on the freeway.

We visited the doctor today.  I have extremely high blood pressure which the doctor feels is due to my fibromyalgia pain.  It has flared since the move and I have gone grey overnight.

He is increasing my antidepressants as I am stressed to the max. He believes they may help in my fibro pain. He has not offered anything for pain as yet. 

I feel totally exhausted and I need to help Dianne for the next month as she can't drive.  My spoons are gone before I surface each day.

My exhaustion is such that my legs feel like they can't hold me up. Yet like helping my daughter and looking after my sick husband, there are things that just have to be done.

My grandson walked to our place from school today and found no clean cups for a drink. I told him he will have to wash one out for himself as I have been so unwell that I haven't been able to stack the dishwasher.  

He selected a picnic cup instead of washing one and then asked to be driven home. I felt guilty that my kitchen is a mess but Chris has fluid build up in his lungs due to living with heart failure and hasn't been able to help.

As a fellow counter of spoons, he has to save them for driving Dianne to doctors' appointments and physio, so I do not ask that he helps with the housework.

My extra antidepressants are kicking in and I am feeling tired as we speak. I must straighten my bed first as it is very uncomfortable as it is. I need a good night's sleep.

It is true that you sleep better in a tidy bed. The way I feel right now, I think I could sleep on the freeway. 

Way beyond blue

The first time I came across post-natal depression was when my daughter had just given birth to her first child. She was elated with her baby but about a week later she had crying fits that came for no apparent reason. At first we put them down to baby blues. But then came irrational thoughts and feelings. 

She believed her husband didn’t love her anymore. Feeling ugly, she was sure her husband was having an affair. She believed her mother-in-law didn’t like her and was trying to overtake her baby. None of which was true.

One night when the baby was about 5 weeks old, we were called to her home by her frantic husband- she had packed all hers and the baby’s clothes in the car and was demanding the car keys. We raced to her home and were met by a daughter we had never seen before. Red-faced, unkempt and crying loudly.

Fortunately her husband had the foresight to hide the car keys as she was in no fit state to drive anywhere. She tried to take the baby out of her crib to take her away, but we stood in front of her so she could not get her.

I tried to reason with her but she just kept screaming that she had had enough- her husband didn’t love her or the baby- she was fat and he was certainly seeing someone else. It was heart-breaking to see him in tears too pleading with her to calm down and declaring his love for her.

Eventually she ran out of voice and strength and collapsed in my arms quite spent. I stroked her hair and her husband came and took her in his arms and comforted her. He was able at last to reason with her and she agreed to see a doctor the next day. We took the car keys with us at his request. Satisfied that the immediate danger was over, we returned home. 

The next day, my daughter and her husband went to see a doctor who diagnosed post-natal depression. For about 2 months my daughter took anti-depressants and became the loving calm girl we had always known. It was frightening to see what hormones can sometimes do to a woman.

We were a little apprehensive when she gave birth to her second child. In fact the post-natal depression manifested itself in panic-attacks the first few hours after she gave birth. I notified the midwives at the hospital about my daughter’s agitation and previous depressions and they sent a doctor up to see her. 

She was put onto medication immediately and was much more relaxed and happy with motherhood. The medications were only needed for about 2 months. I was so glad that I had noticed the signs sooner this time.

I would say to all new mothers or grandmothers that if a depression goes beyond the blue that most of us experience in the first few days after childbirth, a doctor should be consulted. Hormones play a major part in promoting and maintaining pregnancy and lactation, but can sometimes also cause major depression. This can lead to disastrous results if left unattended. If my daughter ever has another child, I will be alert to any mood swings signaling post-natal depression. It should never be underestimated and should be treated promptly when discovered.

I thank God for medication and a sensible son-in-law. Sometimes we mothers need a little help in getting well when our hormones make our depression soar way beyond blue...

Footnote to this post: my daughter has since had another child, suffering no panic attacks or post-natal depression. This just goes to show how fickle hormones can be and the need to be observant with each pregnancy and confinement. We praise the LORD for answered prayer!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks 

And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick. Matthew 14:14

You can say that again

So today we have shopped online but most of the food we ordered was unavailable. So we took a trip to Aldi  and managed to get  meat,  chicken and cat food.  Most products are being limited now.  There are distribution shortages of staff due to Covid. 

There's a four hour queue to get tested or one can do a Rapid Antigen Test at home, but there's a shortage of tests and it's very difficult to get one. People who can't get tested are isolating and missing out on work just in case they are positive.

Our Prime Minister suggested that as most Australians will test positive soon so he told us to make sure we have paracetamol aka Panadol on hand so that we can manage symptoms at home. (Lotsa luck with that one!) So people went out and stripped all pharmacies and supermarkets of all brands of paracetamol. 

To top it all off for me is that once again, my antidepressants haven't made it off the wharves. They don't know when they will be available again. So it's lucky that I have extra Panadol on hand for my fibromyalgia and an extra box of antidepressants. I am so grateful to the Proverbs 31 wife in scripture who was always prepared and laughs at the time to come. 

A past Prime Minister of ours once famously quoted that life wasn't meant to be easy. You can say that again. 

I know how she feels

So, many moons ago, my ex-husband and I used to go every Saturday to see our eldest son play football. On inclement weather days, I  would sit in the car with a friend I had made. She came to watch her son play as well.

We would chat during quarters and half time and I had noticed that she had no wedding rings or jewellery of any kind. I knew she was married because her husband and mine would watch our boys together.

She was a bit of a sour puss to be totally honest. Perpetually moody and very negative. I couldn't understand why because she looked well and dressed nicely. There was something about her: she was a bit odd.

Anyway, during our talks she said she was perpetually tired. Bone tired. She didn't work outside of her house and only had one child and he was almost a teenager like our son. What could be making her tired?

Years before the mobile or cell phones came in, I asked her what she thought the time was. She pulled her watch out of her pocket and I couldn't help but ask why didn't she wear it?

She replied that she cannot wear jewellery of any kind. It drove her nuts. Her muscles ached constantly and she was in pain and was being treated for depression. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with her in spite of oodles of tests. 

For her treatment, she was under the care of a psychiatrist who said she had some form of mental illness that bordered on OCD as well as depression and fatigue. Then she was labelled as a hypochondriac.

She was on strong pain killers and also Valium and anti-depressants. Nothing seemed to help and she told me she had to force herself to come and see her only child play each week.

I thought she was rather weird to be honest. I mean why can't anyone bear to wear even a necklace or wedding ring or watch? Mentally, I lumped her in the acquaintances category, rather than a girl friend.

One day she told me she was having trouble sleeping and she needed to sleep off her medications but often felt groggy and muddled during the day. So, I offered to pray for her. Well, she blew up at me and screamed, "There is no God! If there was, he wouldn't have let my brother die in a fire on an oil rig!"

I was told not to pray for her again and as she was very vitriolic, I decided to sit in our car from then on. I didn't need her anger and aggressiveness.

This was in the 1980's and fast forwarding to 1999, with the identical symptoms as her, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia after many tests for Lupus. I had never heard of it. 

Psychiatric assessment wasn't even muted and I confess I felt a sense of relief at that. It was a medical condition for a nasty painful syndrome that I now know that poor woman had.

It all fell into place: a trauma that ended her peace, the body aches, fatigue, irritability, skin that could not bear being touched-and it excluding wearing jewellery, no restorative sleep, and brain fog with cognitive difficulties.

In those days, when fibromyalgia was not even heard of by the general population and doctors weren't trained about it, fibromites were treated with disdain and were labelled with munchausens and other neurotic labels and as a result were often overmedicated with anti psychotics and Valium.

After being diagnosed myself, I remembered this poor woman and I confess I too labelled her as a hypochondriac and malinger and possibly suffering from munchausens as well.

I am so glad that fibromyalgia is much more known and is treated as a real malady and not a psychiatric disease. Yes, we occasionally are still misunderstood, but not as much.

Since I found out about fibromyalgia, I still pray for that poor woman and I thank God that at last she would be heard. It's the least I can do for her, now that I know how she feels.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers. 3 John 1:2