Sustenance Lost (A Poem)

Depression crept up on me week by week
My outlook on the world became so bleak
Anxiety cut through peace like shards of glass
I feel the negativity and pain will never pass

The several days just gone have been so rough
I feel I cannot take much more; I’ve had enough
My counsellor allows me to email when I need
My aching words, onto the paper, fall and bleed

And now she’s temporarily needed to go away
An operation went slightly wrong only yesterday
She’s home again now but must have a week in bed
Our session will have to be cancelled now, she said

I sent a cheery card online to wish her better
I emailed it as it’s so much faster than a letter
Despite it’s only been one day, I miss her such a lot
It’s like my heart is covered by a giant black ink blot

Our Wednesday session will come and float right by
The thought of that brings a stinging tear to my eye
I’m dug deep into a dark hole with no way out
Not sure if I can cope; this week now full of doubt

We were just making a start on my inner child work
As monsters from my child abuse had returned to lurk
I see the child within, but I cannot grasp her hand
Nor offer her sustenance; it’s like the love’s been banned

I find myself exhausted, though not doing very much
It’s hard to do daily tasks: eating, bathing, teeth and such
From the crevice I am in, it’s toilsome to pull myself up
I note that I’m constantly drinking from a half-empty cup

I must have patience, as I’ve been in this place before
I should have faith that I won’t be here forevermore
I am blessed to have support from so very many friends
Long journeys have I travelled, but I cannot yet see the end.

©Ellie Thompson
19/5/24

Depression (Taking A Break)

Dearest Friends and Readers,

I’ve been trying to hold it all together for some time, not long, but long enough not to be able to fight it anymore. On Saturday, I forced myself out of the front door and took myself off to the park in town. It’s a beautiful place with a lake, swans and ducks, etc., and a little cafe, where I got a coffee and a vegan teacake. I sat, looking out at the beauty of this world; this little bit I was sitting in, at least. I read some of a book I’d been wanting to pick up for some time, and I took loads of photographs, all of nature at its best. It lifted my spirits for a while, but as soon as I got home, the darkness of depression hit me again like a boulder to the head.

I’ve been trying, for the last three days, to share those photos here, along with a post saying how wonderful everything was, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get the positive words out. I’d arranged all the photos on the page, and I’d written the first few words, but I stopped and thought, who am I kidding, my kind friends and readers, or am I kidding myself? Perhaps both?

I’ve saved the photos in draft form and will share them with you when I am feeling better. In the meantime, I’m going to try to speak to my doctor tomorrow morning, assuming there are any appointments left by the time I reach the front of the queue. I’ve also got my counselling with Liz, tomorrow lunchtime, so will discuss my feelings with her, too.

I haven’t been able to keep up with reading my favourite blogs for over a week or more now, so my inbox is bursting at the seams. Still, I will take the good advice offered to me last time I was struuggling to keep up with blog reading and my ever-expanding inbox, which was to delete a large number of them. I will pick them up again as soon as I begin to feel better.

I don’t know what this is, or why it has hit me as hard as it has. I haven’t had depression for years; some downtimes occasionally, sure, but not like this. I hope I won’t be away too long. I even had to drop out of my writing class yesterday after the first half-hour, which I’ve never done before. I just took myself up to bed and slept for a couple of hours. It was all that I felt capable of doing. I watch the clock in the evening, to see how soon I can go up to bed again. It’s the only place I have any escape from it all at the moment.

I’ll miss you all in the meantime, but hopefully, with some rest, advice from my doctor and counsellor, possibly a change of medication, I will be feeling better soon, and will then share my beautiful photos of nature, taken at the park on Saturday. In the meantime, please keep yourselves safe and well – keep going with your brilliant writing, and I’m sending so much love to you all. Hugs, too ~ Ellie Xxx 😢😘💓

Finding My Home (A Poem)

As I sat in my Quaker meeting yesterday
In silent prayer with Friends, I found my way
My heart was full of love and truth and peace
And all the troubles in my soul began to cease

The gratitude within me knew no bounds
I felt the love of Friends as I glanced around
So moved was I that I had found my home
This was the Light I’d never previously known

The overwhelming sense of God within
Amongst Friends who feel like my blood kin
I’m blessed to find the place where I belong
After searching for this place for so very long

I joined our weekly peace vigil above the road
The cars went by, and motorcycles rode
Occasionally, a toot or wave was shown
With our anti-violence message, seeds were sown

When Meeting ends, we all join hands as one
The love and warmth between us, like the sun
The beauty of these people moves my heart
Then, conversation and coffee due to start

Jo spoke so passionately about our world
Her tender words expressed about us swirled
Her passion, palpable and sincerely heard
I felt so honoured to witness every word

Coffee drunk, we stepped outside into the sun
Seeds sown in raised beds, meaningful and fun
My precious home here with these other souls
After many years of searching, digging holes

This family here accepted me with open arms
I knew never again would I be so very harmed
With the love and compassion that I feel here
I hold each one in the Light and in my heart so dear.

©Ellie Thompson
6/5/24

A Friend In Flight (A Poem)

I feel a deep sense of sadness today
Perhaps it’s because my dear friend’s away
Four weeks is so long before I see her again
To Turkey, she flies the long journey by plane

We’ve rarely been parted, so I’m feeling her loss
Gliding through sun rays and clouds that she’ll cross
I’m happy for her, though; she deserves the break
Even though I sit here with tears and heartache

We eat breakfast together each Saturday at eight
We share all our news and muse on the world’s fate
This morning, I rose early, and Sam wasn’t there
The sadness crept in, and I wished she was near

Is it selfish to feel so much loss of this kind?
I really ought give myself a piece of my mind
Will four weeks go quickly, or will it be slow?
Soon, she’ll take to the skies, and off she will go

I picture her lying on the beach in the sun
I wished her much joy, excitement and fun
Long gone are the days of postcards to send
Or a stamp and a letter with news, well-penned

She said she’ll send photos; I doubt she’ll have time
I said it’s more important she enjoys the sunshine
I stare out of my window, watching planes going by
I wonder if she’s on that one so high in the sky

I must keep myself busy; I won’t miss her so much
With drum circle, litter-picking, Quakers and such
Perhaps I’ll have time to read blogs that I’ve missed
Feeling sad in this way, I should try to desist

Just think of my friend, now well on her way
I hope she arrives without any delays
My morose thoughts and feelings I need to forsake
I smile, knowing how hard she’s worked for this break.

©Ellie Thompson
4/5/24

The Orange House (A Poem)

My Mum’s front door was orange; it’s now been painted grey
Google Earth showed me this; I was upset to see it this way
Mum’s favourite colour was orange for as long as I remember
The old house, no longer hers, has been completely dismembered

Its worn-out gate was orange and stood at the front of her house
It’s been ripped  from its hinges by the builder; what a louse
The house was worse for wear but had been my childhood home
My Mum came from a rented flat, but this house was her own

Orange was the sunset and the sunrise in the sky
The last time I saw her house was when I went to bid it goodbye
Her flowerbeds of orange hues have now got concrete stones
Her roses and her tulips gone, the pear tree’s fate unknown

Mum’s kitchen cupboards were her pride, all painted orange, bright
I daresay they’ve now been replaced by boring grey or white
Mum passed away eight years ago; I so miss our chats each day
My sisters and I cleared the house and took things we liked away

I kept Mum’s pride and joy: her orange teapot used each day
It’s sitting in my kitchen with old tea stains and will remain that way
They are my Mum’s tea stains inside, and that’s how they’ll always be
To bleach them white or wash them off would be a sin for me

At her funeral, her coffin spread with orange tulips and roses
A celebration of her life and family and friends added posies
Mum left us all some money, and my adapted kitchen was made
It’s pale green with orange touches to remember Mum’s favourite shade.

POSTSCRIPT:
I’ve never been able to write from prompts. I know WordPress churns them out most days, but these have never been a source of inspiration for me. However, when coming across a new blogger, thanks to one of my regular blogging friends who follows her, I discovered a post with ten prompts. For the first time, I instantly found a prompt (A colour that has a meaning for you) that triggered a memory in my mind from a few years ago. This was a fair time back, and although I meant to write my post about it earlier, health matters got in the way for a while, as my friends here will know.

However, I was delighted that I had found someone, Georgia Kreiger, from her blog, ‘Person On The Page‘ who had written some prompts I could relate to. She is a great writer, and I am now enjoying following her blog and reading her posts. Why not pop in to take a look for yourself – I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Thank you for the prompt, Georgia X 😘






How Much More This Week?

I thought long and hard about whether to write this post or not. That is mainly because I realise that some of my readers will be thoroughly fed up with me writing more of my ‘tales of woe.’ I promise you, it won’t always be this way. It’s just that this week has been one out of hell and is becoming more than I can bear or cope with. One of my regular and appreciated readers pointed out in my last post that it’s not necessary to compare my problems with those of others I consider worse off than me. As I’ve often said to many others, ‘each person’s pain is their own and not comparable to anyone else’s pain.’ So, I think it’s about time I started taking my own advice, don’t you?

In my last post, I wrote about my hospital visit to see an unpleasant and unhelpful consultant. I am going to see my own doctor, hopefully, on Tuesday, if I can get an appointment, to explain how I was treated by the consultant and to ask whether there is anyone else I can see.

I’ve also been doing my own research about my condition and the necessary medication which is affecting my quality of life. This week, I’ve been back and forth to the hospital because of the pain I’ve been in. I now know that the condition I have will always be there for the rest of my life (as the consultant said) and that there is no cure, just this medication, which wrecks all my plans. Apparently, my body will get used to the medication, and I will end up needing more and more of it. I hate to think what my quality of life will be like then. It means I won’t be able to leave the house at all. As you can imagine, the thought of that is extremely depressing and is causing a sense of hopelessness in me. However, I won’t continue with that subject as there seems nowhere else to go with it.

~~~

Having written my recent post, ‘My Darn Teeth Again‘, I had to attend a private dental clinic, as my NHS dentist can’t do this work. I arrived at their premises at 3.45pm for my 4pm appointment, only to find the clinic was closed, door locked, shutters down, definitely shut. I phoned their number to say I was sitting in my wheelchair outside. I was then informed that they had moved! Well, no one had told me this! I was so cross. They’d moved about a half-hour drive for me to another place, further out of town. I finally got there. The dentist I saw was charming and very thorough. He said he’d rather avoid taking the broken tooth out if possible and would try a special type of filling (different from that of my NHS dentist). That will come to £400. However, if that doesn’t hold, he will either have to remove the tooth and add one to my existing dental plate for £1,000 or, as he suggested, he would prefer to crown it, which would be a better option, but will cost me £1,500!! I’ve already extended my overdraft to £1,000, but I must now ask my bank for an additional £500. I’ve made an appointment for next Friday to have the first option, the filling, done.

~~~

Finally, just to finish off my week ‘nicely,’ my dear friend and loyal home help has just gone off for a month’s holiday, and I shall miss her terribly. We’ve been friends for over twelve years. I will have to search for a replacement person to help me for the next four weeks. She’s never been away from me for that long before. I couldn’t help but, when she was about to leave and we shared our usual hug, I burst into tears. It just felt like the last straw that capped off my awful week.

If you’ve read this far into my post, congratulations for putting up with my ‘tale of woe.’ I wrote a poem called ‘Orange’ last week that you’ll be pleased to hear isn’t about my health. I shall try to share this tomorrow. It was written due to reading some prompts from one of my fellow bloggers, whom I shall mention by name tomorrow.

Having written all this and sat on it for best part of the day, I’ve decided I have no option. I can’t make this all go away, so I think I will have to ‘pull on my big girl pants’ and get on with it.

Thank you to you all for caring. With my love, Ellie Xxx 🌹🙏🏻💓

Quality Of Life – What’s It Worth?

I’m aware that I have some lovely comments on my recent blogs today that I haven’t been able to reply to today or yesterday. My sincere apologies. As a result of Monday, I have spent the day feeling sick, anxious, angry, unable to concentrate and with no appetite at all. I have also achieved absolutely nothing today, apart from this blog post, which I have doubts about publishing anyway.

I had another hospital appointment with the gastroenterology consultant on Monday. I’ve seen her once before, and she was very unfriendly and intimidating. As I drove into her office in Alfie (my electric wheelchair), I parked next to her desk, as you would when seeing a doctor. She sharply insisted that I back up as far as possible to the opposite wall. She wasn’t wearing a mask, so I thought it unlikely that she was worried about getting Covid, especially as she didn’t insist on my wearing one. She then proceeded to conduct the whole consultation through a microphone, even though I explained I had no hearing problems and could hear her perfectly without it. Very strange. This first appointment, quite a few weeks ago, was to inform me that I didn’t have cancer, and naturally, I was very relieved to hear that. However, the excellent news didn’t solve the problems I initially went there for. She then prescribed some very powerful medications to take daily.

Without going into the details, suffice it to say they prevented me from leaving my house many days during the week. Their effect is totally unpredictable. I have missed so many of the activities that are important to me and that I enjoy. I’ve not been able to go to the drum circle many weeks; I’ve missed more litter-picking groups than I’ve been to; there have even been days when I’ve been prevented from attending Quakers on a Sunday morning, which is very important to me. All in all, the medication was affecting my quality of life.

This Monday, my friend Jo came with me, as I felt very daunted to see this woman again. When we entered her office, she repeated the strange actions she had carried out the previous time. Even Jo thought she was odd and very unempathetic. I explained to the consultant that this medication was significantly impacting my life and making me feel very isolated at home alone. I asked whether there were any alternatives to this strong medication, but she almost bellowed at me that I would have to take it for the rest of my life. I suggested, in desperation, that I wondered if there was an operation I could have to help the problem. She shouted, “No, definitely not!!” and nearly hit the roof.

I felt so helpless at that point, and when she said she was discharging me, that was the last straw. I said, rather meekly, being somewhat afraid of this woman, that I didn’t want to be discharged without further investigations to find a liveable solution. She totally ignored me and promptly discharged me, leaving me with no solutions and to continue to live my life curtailed by both my condition and the medication she had given me. She obviously didn’t intend to discuss my dilemma further and almost pushed Jo and me out of her office.

Once outside, I burst into tears with despair, frustration and feeling totally out of control of my own body. I was condemned to live a half-life ongoing. I saw no hope of things ever improving*.

Having thought more about things today, I’ve decided to go back to my referring GP at my surgery to ask to be referred to a different consultant. I don’t know whether this will be permitted, having already been discharged from that department, but it’s worth a shot. I’m going to look online for any support groups for my condition. I refuse to give up until I have explored every possible avenue. I’m 66 and too young to be virtually written off by this domineering consultant who didn’t give my qualify of life any value whatsoever.

I’ve had to miss drum circle again tonight. It looks like I will have to have yet another day indoors tomorrow, but the upside will be that I should have time to catch up with the wonderfully kind and supportive comments I have received from my friends here, some from new readers and followers. I hate to let people down, as you will all know. It pains me to appear to be ignoring so many amazing people I have in my life here on WordPress. Thank you so sincerely to all of you beautiful people I am privileged to have as part of my life. I am truly blessed.

With my fondest love, Ellie Xxx 💖🌹💝

*With all this said, I am very aware that thousands of people are far worse off than I am. My problems are minute compared to what others have to go through, whether it be severe disability, debilitating heart problems, cancer with ensuing chemotherapy, amputations, etc. I have nothing to complain about, really, when I think of these people.

Just A Brief Note

Dear Friends and Readers,

I’m aware that I’m way behind on reading so many of your blog posts and apologise for that.

Today, have a very important hospital appointment, which is a follow-up appointment to my scans and tests they were doing to test for cancer, which, fortunately was negative, so okay, for which I was very thankful of.

I have to have more examinations, scans, and tests today to find out the source of the problem. I will be there for most of the day. That means I will get even more behind on blog reading than usual. I am following so many excellent writers on WordPress, and it takes me some time to keep up with you all, so please forgive me if I appear to be ignoring you. I’m really not. It’s purely a lack of time to read all of your excellent work.

Depending the outcome of my appointment today (if, indeed, there is one), I hope to do some more catching up with you all tomorrow. Please, forgive my absence today. I will be back soon.

My Darn Teeth Again!

Recently, I broke a front tooth clean in half, not horizontally, as you might imagine, but vertically, from top to bottom. I wasn’t eating anything tough, like nuts or toffee, but just tucking into a vegan cream cheese and chive sandwich with cucumber – one of my favourite combinations. My NHS dentist had tried to repair it with filling material. The first try was successful for eight months, then it broke again. I returned a second time and she refilled it, but I hadn’t even got through my front door when it fell out again!

I phoned her straight away in despair. I felt so self-conscious, with a big gap at the front of my mouth. It is very obvious to all. You could hardly miss it! I went back to see her, but she said there was nothing else she could do … the tooth would have to come out! My heart sunk to my stomach, remembering last year’s experience where I had a back tooth out, had to have stitches, got infection after infection and was in so much pain my doctor prescribed Gabapentin and Morphine! That went on for six months before it healed.

What’s just as upsetting is that I have to have it done privately, like last time, by a qualified oral surgeon. The reason for this is that I have to take an NHS-prescribed medication called Alendronic Acid (AA), which is a ‘bisphosphonate’ drug, for my severe osteoporosis, which I have through no fault of my own. Because of this drug, if you have invasive dental treatment, such as having a tooth out, the bone in the jaw must not get infected. If it does, the bone can die, causing something called Osteonecrosis of the Jaw (meaning death of the jawbone). If this happens, the infection can spread to other bones in your face and even your ear. In the worst cases, the bones in your jaw and face collapse, causing severe disfigurement.

I have an appointment to see the oral surgeon at the private clinic next Friday. I will then have to make another appointment to have the tooth taken out. One of my friends is coming with me, as I am terrified after my last experience. Once the tooth is out, I will then have to have a dental plate or denture with a tooth on it to fill the gap at the front. That’s not cheap; neither is the extraction.

If I had been able to have this tooth out and a dental plate from my NHS dentist, it would have cost me £329 (still a lot of money). However, having to have this done privately is going to cost me well over £1,000!! I don’t have that sort of money, so I had to approach my bank to ask for an extension on my overdraft, which I’ve never touched before. Luckily, they agreed. It will all have to be paid back, though, with interest added. I have no choice other than to go through with this. The other option would be to leave the half-tooth where it is, which I would be very self-conscious of and make me reluctant to smile, say hello or good morning to every person I go past on my way into town, as I always do.

Having read this, perhaps you think me too proud or vain, that I am making a fuss about nothing, or that I should choose to put up with a gap at the front of my mouth indefinitely and save myself an awful lot of money. What would you do?

Broken Children

This is a rather long post. Could you please take the time to read it as and when you can? Many thanks, Ellie.

As most of you know, my son and my grandchildren, eleven and nine, stay with me every other Thursday through to Friday, and then, Sunday through to Monday.

My son, and his ex-wife of eight years who is sadly controlled by the grandmother, who really isn’t kind to the children and is abusive to and about my son for no good reason other than spite. My son sees the children every other week from Thursday afternoon until Monday morning when they go to school. In the main school holidays, the children, Imogen (11) and Charlie (9) spend half the time with their mum and half with my son.

The children arrived with me yesterday evening after spending a gloriously happy week with their daddy. He lives up north with his fiancee and her three boys, who all get on together famously. They have their own bedrooms there and have their pets, too. They adore my son’s fiancee (S), and she reciprocates this love.

However, this time was to be different. My son, Tom, had to leave the children here as he had to head back up north for an early hospital appointment yesterday morning and had asked me if I could have the children overnight. They’re very used to me, to being and sleeping here. I tell them I love them frequently, and we share lots of hugs and snuggles.

When my son had to leave here, he hugged the children and told them how much he loved them and that he’d be back again in three days. In the meantime, they are to return to their mother’s, but they mostly stay with granny, who they both dislike, as she is so unkind to them.

Little Charlie became very upset about his daddy leaving him. He clung to Tom with all his nine-year-old might, but my son said he had to go. Charlie then grabbed my son’s shoes and ran upstairs to hide them so his daddy couldn’t leave. Daddy soon found them. Eventually, my son had to prise Charlie off of him and went out of the front door. Charlie was totally distraught. He ran outside in the cold and dark and jumped in the car’s passenger seat. Tom had to get him out. By this time, little Charlie was sobbing his little heart out. He suddenly jumped up and threw himself onto the car’s bonnet so my son couldn’t drive away. A real act of desperation, especially from a child.

I’m not able to walk outdoors because of my disability and use a frame or trolley indoors. I watched him, feeling totally useless, and I was absolutely heartbroken to see Charlie so desperately distraught. After a few minutes, Imogen, the little sweetheart that she is, ran out there in the dark and cold in her pyjamas and bare feet and eventually, with her daddy, coaxed Charlie back into my house, and we quickly had to shut and lock the door.

Eyes streaming and nose constantly running, he was impossible to console. I was totally at a loss as to what would comfort him other than holding him, giving him hugs and words of reassurance. I tried to distract him by doing some painting or drawing, but, no, he didn’t want to know.

Eventually, he calmed down a bit and phoned my son’s fiancee, whom he loves, and she spoke with him for a while, which seemed to settle him a bit more.

It was bedtime, so I took Charlie upstairs to get his pyjamas on and clean his teeth. I tucked him into bed, but he got upset again and wanted Daddy to sleep in the double bed under his bunk as usual, but, of course, Daddy wasn’t there. Tears began to run again, and he just couldn’t settle. Eventually, sweet Imogen said she would sleep in Daddy’s bed so Charlie wouldn’t be alone. He seemed to settle then. I checked on them half an hour later, and thankfully, they were both sound asleep. That was a relief.

Morning came, and I got both the children up and made their breakfast while they showered and dressed, ready for school. They came down and ate their breakfast, and waited for Mike, Tom’s friend, who the children know well, to arrive to take them to school at 8.15am. When Mike arrived, the children clamboured into his van and they set off for school.

After school, they would be picked by their granny, who they both dislike and went back to living there and seeing their mum. I know that poor little Charlie is so confused. He gets upset when he leaves his mummy and also when he has to leave his daddy. It’s heartbreaking to know these young children are constantly being pulled from pillar to post

I shut the front door, breathed a sigh of emotional relief, made myself a steaming cup of Redbush tea, and sat down. I was totally exhausted, physically but more emotionally.

The whole point of this post is to point out how destructive a hostile divorce can be, which can continue for years, continuing to cause so much damage to the children. The children have no say on where they go or who they’re to be with. They have both expressed a wish to live with their daddy, but they are too young to be listened to in a court of law until they’re sixteen. In the meantime, the mental and emotional damage will continue to affect my grandchildren until they reach an age when they can make free choices of their own. So often, by then, the damage is done. When children are involved, it’s totally unfair that the animosity between the mother and father is so apparent to the children, who are torn to pieces. Tom is very careful not to say anything nasty about the children’s mother and granny, but sadly, the same can’t be said for the other party. It truly breaks my heart 💔.