Oh, no, not another day of the inability to write I’ve started seven pieces; not one of them is right Frustration is building rapidly, hour after hour I’ve lost my sense of humour; my expression rather dour
I had a late night yesterday; is that why I can’t write? I look a little pale, and my complexion’s rather white The cat’s a little better, though; she’s lying in her box She’s peering out the window at the seagull flocks
I’m struggling to get this week’s piece of coursework done I’m stuck and not finding it easy, and it’s not a lot of fun I’m scouring the dictionary for words that I can use Resorting to Thesaurus while I’m desperate for a snooze
Often, when I write, the words just seem to flow Today, I should have finished this at least six hours ago It’s Mother’s Day, for goodness sake; I ought to take a rest This isn’t an exam or an English language test!
I don’t know where the time has gone; it’s almost time for dinner If this was a competition, I surely wouldn’t be the winner The evening’s drawing in now, and soon it will be dark I’m at the point of giving up, so s%d this for a lark!!
I got up in the morning feeling rather low I just cannot get going, and my progress is slow I guess I can’t be happy every single day Right now, at this moment, I’m wishing time away
Can’t concentrate on reading and not able to write I’m still in my pyjamas and looking such a fright The cat’s come out in sympathy; she’s looking all forlorn She’s been dozing in her box, which is tattered and torn
She won’t go in the garden and doesn’t want to eat She’s crawled out of her box and is sitting at my feet The pair of us are moping all around the house She’s not even tempted by the resident mouse
Should I call the doctor, or perhaps, I’ll call the vet Both will cost a fortune, and I’m already in debt I sit here looking vacantly through the kitchen door Wondering what to do; I’m just dithering for sure
Here comes the local tomcat looking for a fight He’s sitting on the fence in the last of the day’s light My cat isn’t interested; she doesn’t want the stress She wants to chill out; perhaps, a game of chess
I’m no good at games, so she’ll surely be the winner I’m making up excuses like I’m going to cook the dinner Later on, in bed, we can sleep away our sorrow Roll on, ticking clock; we can start again tomorrow.
Over the weekend and today, I wrote two pieces of coursework to send to my tutor. One was a 2,500-word true-life short story, which I may share another time. The other, today, was my first-ever attempt at flash fiction (under 300 words). As I said to my blogging friend, Jeff Cann, yesterday, I never write fiction, having always said I can’t do it, so this is unusual for me. I thought I’d share it with you here.
FEATHERS
Andrea was washing the dishes when she was startled by a scream from outside. She hobbled over to the kitchen window and looked to see where the sound had come from. A minute later, the phone rang. As she answered it, the irate voice of her neighbour shouted, “your bloody cat has killed a pigeon in my garden,” to which Andrea replied, “I’m really sorry, but how do you know it was my Lucy? She’s never caught a bird before; several cats prowl this area.”
The voice yelled, “Your cat was sitting nearby and looking very proud.”
She smiled to herself and tried to visualise a proud cat. “You’ll have to come and clear this mess up,” Mick demanded.
Andrea explained she’d injured her ankle, so she couldn’t help. She felt quite sorry for Mick now, having to deal with the feathered casualty and knowing how much he hated cats. She felt sorrier for the pigeon, as she loved all wildlife. She apologised, still not convinced it was Lucy’s fault but wanting to keep the peace. They’d always been good neighbours up until now; it would be a shame to fall out over this one incident.
She offered Mick some plastic bags and old gardening gloves to clear up the dead body. Five minutes later, she could hear him cussing as he dealt with the corpse in his back garden. Andrea finished washing up, despite the water being only lukewarm now. She glanced up and was horrified to see Mick, having hopped quietly over the low fence, furtively creeping along the wall to her dustbin. He lifted the lid and unceremoniously plopped the dead bird in.
This was my town’s first carnival for many years and its first eco-carnival ever, so I thought I’d go along to see what was happening. It was a beautiful day with a mixture of bright sun and a welcome cool breeze. This year, the organisers decided we should consider the impacts on the planet that the usual, large motorised carnival floats seen in the previous years have had. It was a small gathering, very low-key, not a grand affair like some carnivals I’ve seen, but the emphasis on the planet means a lot to me, so I was determined to go and support those taking part. They have all worked incredibly hard.
Scottish Bagpipers
I wasn’t sure whether these were flamingos or pink dinosaurs 😂!
Falun Gong group from China
Taking photos from a wheelchair always presents its challenges. Most people are very considerate, but some don’t seem to notice me and stand directly in front of me and in my line of sight. Most annoying, but hey, life is too short to cause a fuss other than a polite, excuse me.
A small group of brilliant young drummers who produced an unbelievable sound
We have a great group of Extinction Rebellion members in my town. They have a good following here. They may not be very popular with some, but, in my eyes, they do more to attempt to save the planet than our government does, and I’m behind them all the way. Our government talk the talk but definitely don’t walk the walk. I’ll get off my soapbox now! That’s my political career over 🙃!!
Local Extinction Rebellion group with the Samba Band
After the eco-carnival, there were still lots of people milling about as various activities were going on in and around the centre – face painting, information stands, food, drinks and ice cream available etc. I grabbed a sandwich in M&S and bumped into two of the store staff who helped me with my punctures earlier this week – see my post Travelling in Style. I stopped to thank them again and knew I was in safe hands there on the off chance of it ever happening again. I drove over to the nearby park and sat and people-watched as well as admiring the plants on the riverbank and the nearby swan who looked like it was a professional contortionist!
Wildflowers on the riverbank
The contortionist swan
Don’t know what flowers these are, but they could have done with a drink!
Finally, after most people had started to leave the town centre and head for home, I briefly called into Tesco for some fruit and veg and made my way along the river to my house. Peanut, my cat, wasn’t impressed that I’d left her alone for the afternoon, but nevertheless, she was pleased to see me. Here she is in her come-and-play-with-me mode.
Peanut wanting attention after my excursion out
For more adorable photos and adventures with Peanut, see my post It’s a Cat’s Life.
The only photo of me in the flesh that you’re likely to ever see! I’m shy. Make the most of it – it’s not likely to happen again 😉!
I thought I’d give you a little background information about my disability. It’s not something I’ve previously spoken about much in my blog, so this is my story.
I started life as an able-bodied little girl who did all the usual activities that young children do. I was always small, skinny and underweight, but there were advantages to being as I was. I could shin up the gym apparatus faster than many children in my class. Considering I was sometimes thought of as a weed, I did pretty well. I grew up, married, had my two children, Tom and Clare, and then my ex left. I continued to raise the children alone and also had to work to bring some money in for us to live on. It was a tough time, but I was very content. Between school runs, the children’s football matches and netball, I was a carer and home help for ten years (I’d initially trained as a secretary and worked in the City of London for several years). I combined my work which I loved, with caring for Tom and Clare; we were a very happy little family.
When the children were about thirteen and eleven, I saved enough to take them to the funfair in town (Essex in the UK). It was there that I had my accident which was to change the course of my life. When our carriage crashed, I felt a tremendous jolt that jarred my neck and spine. Eventually, after a lengthy spell in hospital (with my children staying with my Mum) and with many tests, x-rays, scans and examinations, the doctors decided I’d damaged the nerve endings leading from my spine. They said it was permanent. It was an awful lot to come to terms with, but over time, I grew, not so much to accept it but more to live my life despite it. I wasn’t about to give in easily. The pain was awful, though, and I was on morphine for quite a while. It wasn’t all bad – I was away with the fairies much of the time 😄!
Fast forward twenty years. It was recommended that I have a DEXA Scan as osteoporosis was suspected, given that I’d always been small-boned, had experienced a few years previously with anorexia, and being unable to exercise very often. When I got my results, I was unsure who was more shocked, the radiographer or me. My T-scores were appallingly low. A score of -2.5 indicates osteoporosis, but mine was -4.5, which meant I had severe osteoporosis.
Degrees of osteoporosis Mine is severe, meaning there is more air space (in brown) and very little solid bone (shown in beige). It’s a wonder I haven’t entirely disintegrated!!
I was told I could die if I fractured my hip or be left even more disabled if I injured my spine. I have to admit I was scared – very scared. Every move I made seemed risky, and I lived in fear for a while. I became super-careful with everything I did, but two years ago, I tripped over Peanut (my new cat) while transferring from my wheelchair to my walking frame. There I was being rushed off to Accident & Emergency for the second time. I was in agony. I’ve never felt pain like it. After all the x-rays and scans came back, the doctors announced that I’d broken my pelvis, not once, not twice, but in six different places. I don’t do things by halves. If I’m going to have an accident, I’ve got to do it in style!
Strangely enough, contrary to what most people would think, I don’t have any regrets; I’m not angry or bitter or in the least bit dissatisfied with my life. I am who I am. Without the experiences I’ve been through, I wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be Ellie.
My next post (Part Two) will be about my journey back to good health and where I intend to go from here on in.
Okay … these aren’t my legs, but just an indication of where I go next on my journey. Look out for part two.
Essentially Ellie 