Medications and children don't mix!

As if the incident with the burglary was not enough to make me feel like a downright twit, I had to go the whole hog to thoroughly disgrace myself in my daughter-in-law's home.
What now?  You may ask.  Yes, ask that again and I will tell you.

If you have kept up with the rest of my blog updates, you will know that I am a chronic pain sufferer.  Not because I want to be, no - but because I have a cervical vertebral problem that is being medically treated (i.e. with medicine) as long as possible (that is until kidney failure kills me instead the doctors are hoping) - preferably to undergoing surgery which could prove fatal (what doctor wants to perform an operation that could result in total lack of success?).

Enough said about it.  I am on several million types of medicines to see me through each day.  Now knowing that kiddies and meds do not go well together and that the vast majority of overdoses result from kiddies finding grandma or grandpa's medications right there on the bedside cabinet - I was determined this would not happen to one of my grandchildren.

Well aware of the dangers, I kept my medications zipped up in my handbag and placed it right on the top shelf of the nursery where I was ensconced.

 

 

Lo and behold as kiddies do, some came over to play with my grandchild.  It was great, it was fun and they had a ball.  Two played outside and one little girl aged three, played in the nursery alone.

Their play time came to an end and now it was time to dress the Christmas tree.  It was also time for my medication.  Into the nursery I went to find to my absolute horror, my handbag full of pills had been removed from the very top shelf and placed on the very bottom shelf of the cupboard!

Who had moved it?  Tessa, my dear daughter-in-law.  So naive it's frightening.  Alarm bells started to ring as I checked all my medications carefully.  And there it was - an empty pill vial, staring at me.  Glaring at me in accusation.  Fleeting images of sleeping child, child being given emetic, child with burst blood vessels in the eyes from vomiting, child with no pulse - all these images came to mind.

I went through to the Christmas Tree and the kiddies and parents swimming around it.  I announced "8 of my blue pills are missing.  The vial is empty.  One of them is enough to knock me out for a night."  No-one cared.  Certainly not after the burglary incident.  They all thought I was a nutcase and they were not far wrong either.  They continued to place baubles on the tree and I continued to speak to the air "If one of these blue pills can knock an adult out for a night, imagine what it can do to a small child?"  - No response.

"I am concerned for the little one that played alone in the nursery!"  - No response.

"What if...."  A mother said "45 minutes have passed, the children would have been showing symptoms by now".  Another mother gave her toddler an empty vial to try to open and said victoriously "See!  She cannot open it!"

Both mothers agreed they were not prepared to put their children through stomach washes and would wait until they were symptomatic.

Symptomatic?  Where they mad or was I?  "Yes, let's just wait until one of the children's pulses stop.  The Christmas Tree decorations are after all, FAR more important."  That's what I said and then I went to the nursery, closed the door and wondered why I even cared.

I checked and re-checked my handbag and some time after the kiddies had left I found 8 little blue pills smiling up at me from the chemist's small plastic bag inside one of the handbag's linings.  Of course I was embarrassed (especially after the burglary incident I must repeat again and again and again).  But embarrassment took second place.  I triumphantly announced that the little blue pills had been found!  I went to Tessa's neighbours and showed them as well - no need to worry, the pills were not inside their three year old.  They were kind and they were understanding.  After all, I did place my handbag way out of reach of any child.  And on phoning their doctor had learned that my little blue pills were only harmful if more than 12 were swallowed in which case the child could receive an antidote in the form of an injection.

Tessa was not so understanding.  What kind of mother-in-law-from-hell was this that was staying with her?  I couldn't blame her.  I just heard her say "That's IT!!" and I knew that my goose was cooked - or my visit really - was overstayed by a burglary and an overdose.

I went to sleep exceptionally angry at myself.  But as the night progressed I realised that it was TESSA who had been negligent.  SHE had moved my bag - and why?  Why I did not know and did not care except that it had been done and could have resulted in an emergency.

Another drill?  Perhaps.  That's not how Tessa saw it!!
No doubt about it - she was glad to see the back of me!!

Bye-Bye from a crazy Nanna!!!

 

 

On Burglars....

Mid-move had to go elsewhere for a family crisis.  Returned after 10 days to find hubby had unpacked very few boxes so am now inundated with unpacking.  Throat infection did not clear properly and went into my left ear, Eustachian tube and sinuses.  That was the least of my worries, however.
The family crisis got me thinking seriously about post-natal depression and psychosis.  How late can it happen after a birth?  And about verbal abuse - why is it that so often only men are accused of abuse when verbal abuse can also come from the female of the species.  Especially in provocation.  16 days of an action campaign against women abuse - what about the men one has to ask?  It is after all, with the tongue that women fight (am I right or am I wrong?).

So there I was, a guest in my own adult child's home.  Alone with his wife.  She in the master bedroom and I in the child's future bed in the nursery.  I took a muscle relaxant (for my neck) and a sleeping pill.  Nothing usually wakes me up from this combination.

Suddenly, at 2 a.m. I awoke with what sounded like someone (or more than one person) climbing over the garden wall.  "Doomf!!" went their feet as they landed on the ground.  Then the outside light right outside my window went off.  Now I knew that a burglary was in process.  I was waiting for the sound of breaking glass at the kitchen door.  I even thought I heard voices.  Up out of bed I ran down the dark passage and knocked on my daughter-in-law's locked bedroom door.  "Tessa!  Tessa!  Press your panic button!"  No response.  I banged harder and shouted louder, knowing the intruder/s would now definitely hear me.  Finally, Tessa appeared sleepily at her bedroom door.  I closed the door and we locked it.  "Press your panic button" I repeated "There's someone in the garden.  They are trying to break in.  They could be in the house by now!"  Tessa was unfazed.  She batted her sleepy eyes at me "Are you SURE?" she asked slowly "Your son also thought there was someone around and there was no one".  What is wrong with this crazy lady?  She is second-guessing me at a time like this!  "Listen to me Tessa.  I was woken out of a deep sleep.  I took a muscle relaxant and a sleeping pill.  I heard them jump over the wall.  I saw the outside light go off!!"  She pressed the alarm.  It was not the silent kind.  It whirred loudly all across the neighborhood.  She switched it off.  We listened for noises inside the house.  We phoned the police.  They were on their way.  Phoned the neighbours, but no response.  Switched the alarm back on.  Two women alone in the house with a sleepy toddler sucking at her dummy and looking at us in amazement.

 

The policemen arrived - all seven of them.  They searched the house, they searched the garden, they looked for scuff marks on the walls, they found nothing.  They stayed a while giving us security tips and assured us they would patrol the area.  Calmed down, we had some coffee and returned to our separate bedrooms.

Several nights later I lay in the same bed nodding off when I heard the toilet next to my wall and off the master bedroom flush.  It wasn't the flush that shocked me, no.  It was the suction, Doomf! sounds that were familiar.  And I clearly heard the light being switched off.  Yet it stayed on outside my window.  ?????  The night of the near-burglary Tessa did not have the outside light on.  So that explained it.  She had gone to the toilet at 2 a.m., flushed and the plumbing took care of the rest of the "burglar" noises.  She had switched off the bathroom light which had flooded the garden outside my window.  And in the middle of all this I had woken and reacted.  My face was red, yes it was.

It was red when I admitted my mistake.  It remained red until I realised that I had actually through an act of great stupidity actually given my family a 'burglary drill' and that several things were left wanting - a silent alarm to a security company - outside light left off - a table right up against the wall - and neighbours that needed Stay Alert Tablets.

Wow a lot has happened since I last posted!  We had my parents-in-law come to visit.  They were here one moment and gone the next.  Passing through, actually - but we managed to convince them to spend two nights by giving them our exquisite dreamland bed which has a mattress beyond compare!

They talked and I tried to.  I had caught strep throat from Francine.  This is the second time I have caught strep throat from Francine.  You know how it is with kids - they pick up all these bugs at nursery school/school or creches and bring them home to their parents.  Only in this case the bug favored me - the nanna.

So there I was, clutching my antibiotic, painkillers, analgesics and throat anesthetic spray promising myself I would go home and climb into bed (which I did).

I floated in and out of sleep hearing the voices of my mother-in-law and then my father-in-law.  I felt like death warmed up!

 

Hubby came in and said:

"We will need to give them our bed!"

I said:

"No, no, I am sick, I want my bed!" like a three-year old, clutching at my duvet for dear life.

Hubby said:

"There is no option.  We can't expect my parents to sleep on the fold-up couch.  It's awful!"

He had a point.  In fact, he was right.  There was no other solution.  I left the comfort of my lovely bed and went to join our guests...feeling like my throat was on fire.

They were very understanding and kind I must say.  My mother-in-law had a list of herbal remedies I could try.  She ran some ointment onto my head and down the side of my neck (which was also hurting).  But - I still needed to give them my bed!

"Whaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!"

And now my parents-in-law and my strep throat have all gone.  The house was all quiet and I crept back into my luxurious bed with a brand new appreciation.  I LOVE my bed.  Don't you?  

That was yesterday and today, I must start to pack!  We are moving AGAIN!  All this is waiting for me!!

It's enough to give a person a relapse!  More about our MOVE later!!

Smacking - is it ever condoned?

Hello again!  An update.  Francine (2.5 yrs old) was dropped off at my place last night after a week of bronchitis, vomiting and diarrhea.  For this she had taken strong antibiotics and it left her with a case of bad nappy rash.  So Nanna was the preferable place for her to be plonked.  What Nanna worth her salt would ever say "No" - ?  

Today I took the little mite (her weight has dropped to 11.46kg) to the clinic.  There she amazed me by sitting quietly waiting - and waiting, and waiting.

We waited for three hours!!  If she had been restless I would have had to leave long before that time.  I was duly impressed by her self control.  I was having trouble containing my own waiting for so long.

As we waited, a mother came in with a toddler clinging to her skirt and crying.  A cute little boy in denim clothing.  To my astonishment, she pulled his hand firmly away and carried on walking to her seat where she picked him up and almost threw him onto the chair next to her.  He was only about 18 months of age.  After a few minutes, she got up, pulled him up and whacked him once but very hard on his bottom.  He almost fell with the intensity of the smack.  The lady sitting next to me was horrified and so was I.  Shocked, she turned to me and said "Any other mother would have picked him up and pacified him!"  and I added "Yes, all he needs is some love and assurance - he is probably ill or petrified of this place".  Francine-Rose looked on mortified.  She crept onto my lap.

I felt a fury rise inside me as I heard the toddler yelling all the way down the passage.  Again, I told myself "Who will speak up for a little child?"

I had this vivid image of myself grabbing that mother from behind and pulling her around to ask what she thought she was doing.  And another image quickly followed of her giving me a resounding slap and asking what business it was of mine, then disappearing with the poor little fellow without getting any medical treatment.  Instead, I sat there wondering what I should do.

Before I could decide, the mother returned and the little boy was fast asleep in her arms.  She sat down and fell asleep herself.  I was still shocked at her former behaviour.  As I looked at her, one of the doctors walked by and stopped in front of her.  "How are you doing sweetie?" she asked the mother.  She responded by telling her she felt like death.

I sat back trying to feel sorry for her.  I thought back to the time I had little children and tried to remember how they can drive you to frustration.  I tried to have mercy.  She could have AIDS or TB.  She could have some other terminal illness - these were my thoughts.

But nothing could overcome the feeling of repulsion I felt for this large woman bearing down on that tiny little boy who was shuddering with unshed sobs as he slept in her lap.

Eventually, when it was time to take Francine into the doctor, I opened up and I reported her to the doc.  "Not much we can do.  Parents take offence when you try to interfere", the doctor said.

I walked off with Francine-Rose and her meds in her push-chair.  I had promised her a treat.  We went off to get it.  And as I walked I thought - if that was another adult and he had been assaulted in the same way - she could have found herself in trouble.

Is there ever an excuse for venting your anger on a defenceless child?

I think not.

This entry is dedicated to all little children everywhere who are abused either physically or emotionally.

All good things must come to an end!!

Can't believe I was recently spring-cleaning the house for my son and family's visit!  And they have been and gone already.  The days just fly by when you are having fun, don't they?

And fun I had.  Just take a look at what I did by clicking here.  Can you actually believe that was me with my fear of heights (now conquered!)?  I felt as if I could tackle anything after that amazing experience!  If ever the opportunity arises, I recommend it!

Amazingly, I did not need to take pain killers for my neck for 24 hours afterward - quite an interesting fact since it hurt me to have to look upwards and to my right for the camera.  I'm not an expert on these things - but I would say it was due to the adrenalin that probably remained in my system.

It was really an up and down time - literally!

What a shame that in today's world most families are separated by distance.  It must have been wonderful in days gone by to share co-existing homes or at least live in the same town to be able to pop in for a cup of tea and a chat, baby-sit or look after a family member in need of some TLC.

Until next time then - see you - I am off to take a pain killer (again).

Great preparations!

Great preparations went on in our home this morning - I guess the dust was flying and things which had been out of place for eons suddenly found a home.  That's because my son is coming to visit for a few days!  Hooray!  I think all the excitement I feel when we have a visitor turns into panic - the place can NEVER be perfect enough...and it's this way no matter who comes to stay.

My Mom was the same - you'd think the Queen was coming to stay she'd scrub and spring-clean for weeks.  Well I am not EXACTLY of the same moral fibre.  I gave up halfway through the morning in the study and tossed everything that was out of place into a box and made a promise to the box that I would sort it once my visitors have left.

How on earth human beings produce so much clutter between them, will forever remain a mystery.  Things deemed too precious to toss away - and most likely you wouldn't miss them if you did!  Oh no, but hold on a moment here - I stand to be severely reprimanded.  It's PRECISELY when you throw things away that you will need them the very next day after the garbage truck has been and gone.  Oh yes, I had forgotten - that is the way it is.  Hold onto it with all you are worth and carry it from home to home and guess what?  You'll NEVER need it (until the day you throw it away of course).  Murphy's Law.

Seriously, I wonder how many of us have longed for a home that looks as if it stepped right out of the latest Home magazine?

 

Guess this is what we all strive for...and many only achieve if they can afford holiday homes in far-away places - because then they are seldom used.  But - it's so nice to dream!

 

Mommy's back and everything is on a roll!

Okay, Mommy came back last night and Francine-Rose was with us again and was thrilled to be reunited with her mum.

This morning she wanted mum to sit and build blocks with her, but Mommy had other plans and naturally, she wanted Francine-Rose to accompany her.  They were great plans - going to the beach, whale watching, going to town - but Francine did not want to go.  She did not even want to get DRESSED to go.  So it was not only The Sneves she did not want to go with - and now I realise what's up.  Francine has had tooooooo many changes in her short life and she just wants some "time-out" - a stable place - no creches, no change in homes and flats, no spending days here and there - she just wants to be.

Some would call it a separation complex.  It's a natural stage she is going through.  So again, I had to let her be and just STAY OUT of it.

I don't know about this business of having a grandchild in the same town.  It's somewhat easier when you visit them or they visit you for a few weeks and then you part.  They have their place and you have yours.  

I was going to issue a warning to other grandparents "Don't whatever you do get too attached to the child of your single-parent son/daughter".  But that would not be love.  Love is risking hurt.  And rejection and all sorts of things - so just love, love, love.  You may get burned in the process - that's life and that's love!!!

And in exactly the same way as you love their parents - you have to love not being suffocating and clingy - but by letting go.

 

Who will speak for a child?

"And who am I?  What language do I have?  No language but a cry"

I have been haunted for days with the image of Francine-Rose, hysterical, broken-hearted and fighting off two grown men for 20 mins.

What happened?  Her father came to fetch her.  Her little face filled with pure, sheer, unadulterated terror when she realised what was happening.  I was powerless.  Powerless to do a thing.  Her mother had gone off to Cape Town and said that her "father" could take care of her.  He's been out of her life for so long and now he expects to be "accepted" - perhaps because the mother said so, perhaps because the Family Advocate said so.  You know how they "always work in the best interests of the child" - !!!  Sure.

So I had to stand and watch her outreached arms and instead of taking her to my bosom to console her - I had to try to comfort her.  Her grandpa and her father tried for 20 mins to strap her into the car seat while she fought her best to stop them in the only way she knew how as a 2 year old - by sobbing, by weeping, by saying no please!  

The father said "We are going to see Great Gran!  We are going to see Gran!" (The Sneves) but Francine-Rose cried "I don't want to see great gran I don't want to see gran".  I gave her one of her favorite dolls - Peter - and told her he was crying to go with her - but nothing helped - she wanted me, she wanted consolation.  She wanted to fight off two grown men.  She is after all, just a baby.

So he took Francine away, crying and there was not a thing I could do.  And furthermore, he refused to bring her back yesterday when I was supposed to care for her.  What did I do?  Go there and pull her away?  No, I didn't do a thing.  When I tried complaining to my daughter, she threw the phone down on me.

I have been unable to function ever since Francine left.  Where are my rights as her nanna?  The one into whose arms she went soon after birth, the one who lived in the same house as she did and watched her daily progress?  

What voices do Francine-Rose and I have?  No voices but a cry.  (I would welcome any comments).

How do we perceive things?

That's the question of the day - and I think I found an answer for us all!  Take a look at this.

I hope you can see it, even if you do need to use a microscope.

Today is a brilliantly beautiful day, full of fresh new hope and promise.  It's just the kind of day for taking a boat trip and enjoying some oxygenated air.  Hopefully can get there before the winds come blowing.

Francine-Rose has gone to spend a few days with the Sneves, bless her little heart.  The grans will no doubt spoil her rotten as they are off to the United Arab Emirates to take a break soon from the terrible loss of Don.  I'm sure they will all enjoy their time together.  I just worry about their unguarded pool which happens to be right on their porch.  They poo-pooh the idea of having it covered.  They don't realise that a toddler can disappear in a second...  I feel this is hugely irresponsible for a family that can afford to call in the pool-netters and have it done in a morning.  Since they seem to be atheists, they would see it as just sailing into the deep blue yonder.

Francine's mother has gone on a journey.  I hope she'll enjoy the break.  She has been under a lot of undue stress lately.  Not easy being a single mum, ever.

Well, I am off to put on a summer dress and catch some rays while I can....

 

I hate my neck

Well here's a boring post for today.  I HATE MY NECK.  I went for physio today but instead I wish the physiotherapist had rather taken a mallet to my head and smashed it - you know - patients in through the front and out through the back 100% cure rate.  That's how much pain I am in.  It didn't help thinking about amazing people like Michael J Fox and others who endure worse and keep smiling through it all.  24/7 pain - I don't know how much longer I will be able to bear this.  What a cheerful little posting!

Round and Around

As most of us do, I started the day with good intentions to complete plenty of things on my internal combustion's "To Do" list.  Allowed hubby to snore away part of the morning.  Can't remember when last he had a good night's sleep.  To be honest, I can't remember when I did either - but that's not surprising since I don't remember much anyway.  I do seem to have a hazy recall of a child coughing in my ear all night and the terrible reverberations of the bed, floor, walls, window and door as DH snored.  I had to hold on tight or I would have been blasted off the bed and out the door.  As for my ears - ouch.  They are still ringing.  I'm smiling though.  I have some great new ear-plugs to use tonight.  The only thing that stood between us and the divorce courts were lovely pink wax ear plugs which I used up to now and ran out of last night.  I did consider kicking DH without any ceremony right off the bed as my daughter did to her DH, but it only put paid to his snoring while he recovered from his fall off the bed, found his bearings and the pillow and started snoring again.  Did you know that snoring can reach the level of a noisy vacuum cleaner right next to your ear or the decibels of a high-powered jack-hammer drill - the kind they use to break up roads, etc?

Tonight, my ears are in for a treat - can't wait to open the little box containing my brand-new re-usable and washable ear-plugs.  (By the way, DH has told me that I ALSO snore - can you believe such a thing??  I mean, pleeeeeese.....).  (Oh-oh, I do remember my daughter being woken up by a loud noise in the middle of the night when I was visiting, creeping down the passage with a firearm and then finding out it was her mother....but sh..sh...don't tell my husband).

 

Where was I?  Oh yes, going round and around all day trying to do things and being interrupted.  Eventually, sat down and watched some TV and a woman was saying she had ADD and had to keep a written "To Do" list next to her all day and mark it off as she went along.  Perhaps lack of sleep can cause ADD.  I'll write out a list before I hit the sack tonight and see where it leads me tomorrow...

Life is more than pain (gladly)!

It's hard to distract yourself when you are a chronic pain sufferer (my neck) but when the operation you are faced with carries a risk of death, then you try everything you can think of to ease the pain and make life easier.  Fusing C1+C2 (Atlas and Axis) is an option surgeons only like to take as a last resort.  Since the pain in my left arm is becoming worse, the dead feeling and weakness - I'm unsure how long I will be able to postpone it.

Anyway, I am happy today!  The sun is shining after gale-force winds and heavy rain yesterday and there is not a cloud in the sky.  Can't wait to take a nice long walk with my camera and take some shots of this pretty town in which I have the great opportunity to live in.

I had a whole clump of my articles accepted on E-Zine today, which made me smile from ear-to-ear.  This is a nice notch up the ladder for my writing and the amount of articles I can submit.  Up to now they have been largely technical, requiring research - but soon I would like to submit some creative writing.  I'll keep a notepad next to my bed because it is in the late evenings that I get my best ideas (strangely).

My daughter is celebrating her birthday soon and I know exactly what to send to her.  It's a pretty necklace I bought for her some years ago and never sent it.  This has turned out to be greatly convenient right now when my purse is empty.  If my purse had a gauge, it would constantly read near zero!

Have watched "Shaun the Sheep" a million times today with my grandchild.  We did the whole nine yards - play-dough (quite a clean activity - here's how to make it), painting (everywhere but on the paper!).  Fed the dogs ALL their week's supply of dog food and spent some time retrieving it from all over the kitchen floor.  We are at the stage that she wants to do everything herself.  This includes taking medication (spills), getting dressed (inside out), washing (water all over the bathroom floor) - but at night there's just one place she wants to be - behind Nanna's back in bed.



Soon another granddaughter will come to join us for a visit along with her mommy and daddy.  That's going to be great.  I hope they interact well as they are basically the same age.  They can both spend time messing up the house like little tornadoes.  Who cares?  Tomorrow they will be grown up - you know how quickly it happens!

Until next time then - stay happy, stay crazy!  Be yourself.  Remember:  No one is as good at being you as you are!

On the same week gone mad..

I have this amazing neck.  It is quite slender and long.  In my teens, I was so proud of my long neck.  Now it's the bane of my life.  There is only one solution to my neck problems and its not pretty:

Well, this is how desperate you begin to feel after years and YEARS and YEARS of neck problems.

This is what happens when you are taken on a wild canter by the biggest stallion in the stables - JACK TAR.  While on this canter, the riding teacher yelled at me for all she was worth "Stop it, you are ruining that horse's mouth!  It's the best horse in the stables!"  ?  All I was doing was trying to rein it in, trying to pull it towards the fence where hopefully Jack Tar would stop and behave.  He wasn't having any of it.  Not a darn.  He wanted to show me who was boss.  He wanted to frighten the living daylights out of me.  He ran to fences with huge ditches on the other sides, pretending he was about to jump, but stopped at the last minute to blow huge amounts of air through his widened nostrils and steal a superior-looking glance at me.  In a flash, he was off again running around as if his life depended on it, wondering if he should just throw me off or keep me on his back and continue to terrify me.  Oh yes much better to frighten this one, I could feel him thinking.  Away at top speed to a nylon cord strung between two trees, right at my neck height.  Who put it there and why?  Jack Tar bolted towards it, knowing he would go under and I would go off (unless of course I'd been decapitated).


In the end Jack stopped short of doing that and bored, decided to walk with the rest of the horses back to the stables for a long drink.  As I dismounted, my legs felt as if they would buckle under me but I wanted to get away from Jack Tar - and fast.


A week passed by and I found myself at the riding school again.  I walked determinedly past Jack Tar's stable to the end of the row.  I took out the slowest horse in the entire stable - a gentle white mare.  Together, we gently trotted out to meet the rest of the school.  Today, we were to learn how to weave in and out amongst poles.  One at a time, the riders gave their horses a gentle kick to their sides and off they would go, responding beautifully.  Oh, they knew this game well.  And then it was my turn.  I gently kicked the gentle white mare on her sides and woke up in hospital.


And that is basically the story of my neck.  I have very little memory of what actually took place that day - you see, I was asleep - deeply concussed.  Apparently my gentle white mare shied and did what they call a 'dirty stop' on me.  I was flung into the air on landed head first, breaking my right elbow in three places, damaging my neck and probably sustained the brain damage that makes me what I am today.


So there you have it.  My neck and I have an ongoing fight.  The vertebrae are tired of being in a long slender neck.  They want to crumple up and just be.  But before they finally go their resting place, they will ensure that they stomp on every root nerve they can find.  Nerves which send shooting pains down my arms and hands, into my temples, into my head, into my neck, into my shoulders, even into my jaw and through my teeth.


I have tried to find solutions to the problems - but my neck will not play ball.  And if it does, the solution will only last for this.... long and return to torment me.  I tell myself it is my punishment for everything I did that was mean, nasty, horrible and hateful in life.  It's a train that has smashed into the side of my head somedays.  At other times, it is a continually irritating series of stabbing pains which cause me to say "Oh!" at inappropriate times.


So what the heck - I have to live with this and in dealing with daily agonising pain I still have to find a way to be friendly, to smile, to work, to not complain, et al.  Loads of people are doing it every day.

A week gone mad

Friday and I find myself reflecting on this crazy week.  Aging Don had been in ICU for about five weeks, barely hanging on to a shred of life.  Quad heart bypass.  Pneumonia.  Lungs pumped.  Kidney infection.  Blood transfusions in an attempt to up the ante in his body's fight against bugs.  Induced coma to give his body a break.  Life support.  Switched off a few days ago with his family present.  His daughter Mabel (my youngest grandchild's other grandmother) had returned to the Arab Emirates for one day when she had to return.  Shame, the old man was frail.  It was his time to go.  But so it is that even when our loved ones are busy dying, we cling to the hope - that tiny thread of hope - that they may suddenly recover against every single odd stacked against that happening.

From the moment Francine-Rose was born, I found myself a nanna in the midst of a host of other nannas all vying for the same thing - the baby.  Quite odd.  Penny could not make enough blankets for Francine - and they were all meticulously embroidered on her home-embroidery machine.  Oh it's new - state of the art and takes up a whole room.  The couple were so inundated with baby blankets from Penny that even during the filming of the after-event of the birth, Penny stood at the nursery entrance hurling more and more baby blankets at her grandson.  You can actually see Wade fighting them off in the video!

Where were we?  Oh yes, Don was cut off from his umbilical cord of life support over the weekend.

Tuesday:  Told Francine-Rose (all of two years old) that Don had gone to be with the angels.  Waited for her reaction - her reaction was to leap down on me from the window sill giggling and shouting Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Tuesday evening:  My daughter came home from work and announced "Mother, you are NOT to tell Francine that her great grandfather has died and gone to be with the angels or anything like that.  Penny, Mabel and the family insist on breaking the news to her.  They say it is THEIR RIGHT".

Did I tell her what I had done?  Not then, but I did later when she was irritating me.  She was furious.  How did I know that I was not to tell Francine who is still oblivious to the fact anyway?  She yelled at me for trimming her fringe two weeks ago as well.

Wait a moment - it becomes more complicated than this.  Wednesday evening I am told, is his funeral.  Odd time, but it was not a funeral.  It was not even a service.  It was something else.  I don't know what it was.  We were not invited.  Only my daughter was.  I was left to take care of Francine as it would be "too emotional" for her.  Well, I can hear you thinking - WHAT was it?  Sounds to me as if one of Don's friends read tributes to Don written previously by the family and it was held at...The Yacht Club.  At same-mentioned club and after a slide show of photographs of Francine with Don - Francine (2 years old I remind you) was declared to be an honorary member of The Yacht Club and have a yacht of her very own named after her - THE FRANCINE-ROSE.  I kid you not.

In the blink of an eye, this crazy week was not about Don's death or playing merrily with the angels - but all about possession and control of my grandchild.  Oh yes, btw she is my grandchild too - especially in the middle of the night when she is unceremoniously plopped into our double bed.  (I am still trying to work out and have been for 40 years now, how an infant or toddler can take up an entire double bed perhaps leaving you with an inch to try to perch upon and fall mercifully asleep).

And so the War of the Grannies continues, but I am holding my peace.  I was going to end - but no, I have something else to tell you before this portion of the saga ends.  When Don's ashes are ready...(to call a spade a spade - after he has been cremated along with others and you think you have only YOUR loved one's ashes but in fact they are all pretty mixed up and no-one ever tells you this)... well when his ashes are in his family's hands, The Sneves will sail forth in a magnificent yacht out into the deep sea with a FLEET of yachts trailing behind them and Don's ashes  (and how many others I do not wish to think about) will be dumped into the sea to the sound of bagpipes.

It will not amaze me if the yacht they use to dump Don's ashes into the sea will be the very same yacht mentioned here - THE FRANCINE-ROSE.

More later....