The day is near
Several years ago - before my tendon injury - I learned I had Ehlers Danlos syndrome http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ehlers%E2%80%93Danlos_syndrome Put in laymen's terms, this is a rare incurable disorder, which inherited from my mother. When I learned I had this disorder, I didn't go through the 5 stages of acceptance. There was no point in being angry at my mother for passing it to me- I had it - and that was the end of it. From that point on, I decided not to sit in a corner, and mope about something I couldn't change. I decided that as long as the Lord would allow me the pleasure of walking, I would do my damnedest to keep the day when I was housebound at bay; and I did, until this week.
Last year, on my other blog, the best read posts were about my declining health/ near death experiences. Whether from a feeling of There but for the grace of God, go I, or a morbid interest in my possible demise, I'll never know. I have no intention of doing a chronicle of my pains on here.
Four years ago I tore my left tendon- the irony - I did this taking the weight of my right tendon, which I thought was in danger of snapping at the time. The original injury to the right tendon goes back to my RAF days. I was playing hockey in Dec, 1974, and had just finished basic training. I recall the incident, as if it was yesterday,
I was taking the pressure of my right leg because I had seen a large shape appear on my right shin, and feared it was a vein under pressure. Many years earlier, I had seen varicose veins burst, and didn't want to wake in a pool of my blood. The tendon tore one Friday early in July - I'd been expecting it - when the tendon tore, I knew sooner, or later, I would be housebound. But, I was determined to keep fighting to the last moment.
Even before the tendon went I had been having pains in my right leg, which can best be described as having your leg soaked in acid. I have told the doctor about it, and there is no similar thing in the annals.
I am grateful the Lord allowed me to visit my late friend in Lac La Biche, Alberta, Canada,and to fulfill one wish I'd had for over 25 years- to make a return visit to my homeland in the Northern shires, to visit Scarborough. I never got to the jazz festival held every year, but that is a different story.
The hills to the north of Bristol, which once beckoned me forth; then became the boundaries of my travels,have now became a far distant thought- since my injury, I haven't been out of North Bristol. I keep telling myself I have prepared for this eventuality, but have I?
This week, I missed a book signing by Ben Kane;it wasn't far, but I can hardly walk now. I hope to be able to get to the one by Sarah . Maas on the 25th of this month.
I used to go out at least once a month to gigs in Cheltenham, and I was well known at the folk festival too. Recently I have cut my days out to twice a week, and not on consecutive days, if this continues I will be down to once a week- if I'm lucky, then what, once a month. I enjoy my trips to Waterstone's in Cribb's Causeway, and hope to be able to get a few more signed books before I'm housebound.