Thursday, 10 March 2016

Walk in Her Shoes

Many of you know that I have been working on my fitness for the past year. A large part of my routine is my steps, I aim for at least 10 000 a day. Walking has become my therapy, a time for reflection, music, sometimes even tears.

When I heard about Walk in Her Shoes for Care International UK I immediately signed up. They are inviting people to walk 10 000 steps every day between 21-27 March to raise at least £100 to help communities around the world.

It's not too late to sign up to join in! Signing up is easy! Alternatively you can sponsor me here, every little does help, and even £1 will be a huge help to get me to my £100 target.

As well as my trusty fitbit, I have this dedicated pedometer ready. I aim to do my normal 10 000 steps but my 10 000 Walk in Her Shoes steps will be additional to this! I will post my totals on my Instagram account every day so you can follow my progress.
My trusty trainers will be put to one side. To truly walk in her shoes I will be doing my 10 000 steps in sandals or flip flops every day, in solidarity with the women who walk kilometres a day to collect water for their families. My own sponsor child Shwe Yi does this in Myanmar, collecting the family water from a communal artesian well. When I found this out my heart went out to her. I can't imagine how living without running water must be like.

I hope you enjoy following my challenge and again if you can spare a pound or two please sponsor me

Friday, 12 February 2016

Lent - Giving up Not Blogging

Oh my blog how I have missed you.

I've been going through a tough time since about September. I started to sense my citalopram had stopped working, I took time off work and begged for help from my GP who had just joined the practice and didn't know me. Sadly it took a hospital admission to get any form of help. They immediately took me off the citalopram that I had been on for two years which sent me into a bit of a tailspin.

A second admission has given me a bit more insight into what the hell is going on, but I am not totally well yet.

So it appears the PTSD has been resolved, that is the active part - the flashbacks and the nightmares. However many of the patterns remain, those that have built up since childhood. They are not calling it PTSD now. No one seems to know what it is, or if it is a "thing" or if it is just me. Personality disorders have been ruled out but traits seems to remain. Who knows.

What is clear is that I have periods of emotional distress. When I am very distressed I dissociate, no one has called it a disorder as yet, it's coping mechanism I learnt as a very young child. When very frightened I can choose to go outside my body. It's very odd to explain but I guess in a way it's what we are taught to do in meditation, to dissociate from the pain to be "with it" rather than "in it" I can just do it in a very fast and extreme way, but the real issue is it takes ages to get back "in" my body again, and that's when problems occur, I become visibly distressed and on this occasion, end up in a secure unit. Twice.

The upshot is, I have temporarily seemed to have lost my coping mechanisms and I am very emotional, which isn't like me. Normally I can choose when to express my emotions but at the moment I can't at all. Because I have discovered this dissociative disorder, I now no longer trust myself and my ability to cope appropriately.

It's not pleasant. So I am no longer working and am now on Employment Support Allowance whilst I try and get this sorted and back into employment again.

I have thought long and hard about whether blogging is "appropriate". Blogging has helped me in the past and it will help me now and if a future employer has an issue with the fact I have talked about my mental health online, I need to find another one. I am me, I am part and parcel of the things that have happened to me. I am strong, resilient and kind, and self kindness is where we start.

I need to blog to keep myself together so here I am!

Saturday, 26 December 2015

A Blessed Christmas

Christmas morning commenced with an excited 6 year old creeping down the stairs and 5 am. I was already up as I get really excited at Christmas. He wanted to open his presents and I reached a compromise agreement that he could open his stocking presents but the rest had to wait until dad awoke.

After present opening I walked to church and attended morning service. On the way I saw two women and a white dog acting suspiciously near a wheelie bin. I called out "are you ok?" They shouted back "we are homeless". So I went and said hello. One lady had been homeless but had a flat, the other sofa surfed.

What happened next chilled me to my bone "we are climbing in bins looking for toys for children. The children of crack addicts get forgotten as their parents won't access to the free schemes". These women had got up to search for toys. One of the women had a tyrannosaurus rex in her pocket. Turns out the scary white dog had no teeth.

After church I returned home. My husband requested prawn cocktail. I kind of knew the sauce recipe but tweeted on the #joinin hashtag for ideas. I got it made with some sririchacha sauce for extra zing.

I prepared the rest of the meal and tidied up a bit. As I was busy in the kitchen I heard a sound. I turned around and was immediately terrified as to what I saw.
I immediately Instragrammed it as I wasn't sure what or who it was. It transpires it was Kylo Ren from something called "The Force Awakens" I have lived to tell the tale.
In order to give thanks for my lucky escape from the clutches of Kylo Ren I attended Evensong. I was the only person there! Apart from the priest, so we did it together. It was incredibly moving.

On the way home I saw a family in the rain adjusting the cover on their pushchair. I spoke to them. It turns out they are Syrian refugees. I smiled and welcomed them to the UK. I explained I was from Australia and I had moved to escape bad memories back home. He said "You are refugee just like me."

I asked him if they were Muslim. (only because if we become friends and I cook for them I need to know to cook fish or buy halal meat), he said "we are Muslim but not Isis".

I felt sick. This family have been walking around thinking we all think Syrians are Isis. My dear God.
I said emphatically "You can't be ISIS and Muslim it's impossible. You believe the ten commandments just as we do. Murder is forbidden in both our religions, which have so much in common".

We exchanged pleasantries and they said "Merry Christmas".

I walked home. I started to hear footsteps. They were walking my way.

I insisted they come and see where I live.

I opened the door and said to my husband "look what followed me home". I had previously rung him to tell him what had happened. He welcomed this family, who had to go home or we would have invited them in. Joseph was upset as he was dying to play with the little boy and teach him about Kylo Ren.

I will help this family to have their first English friends. I will help them assimilate.

I am so blessed to have found this country and I have the best life ever.

Bring on the New Year!!!!! Bring it on I say!!!! 

Thursday, 10 December 2015

How to Survive Christmas

I have lost a considerable amount of weight this year, and have just sorted yet another bag of clothes for the charity shop! That's my sixth bin bag of clothes this year.

I set a specific goal to be in a size 16 dress for Christmas. I was wearing a size 22-24 at the beginning of the year!  My wardrobe now contains all size 16 and size 18 dresses, with the odd size 14 top starting to sneak in there too. And I've done it without counting a single calorie, point or syn, I haven't joined a gym, and I have had fun and made new friends in the process!

I know many of you have tried slimpods now, and some of you have had success perhaps for some of you it hasn't "clicked" yet.

With slimpods I think the main key is consistency. You need to listen every day. I know the team recommend evenings, but I've been known to use them in the morning before my feet touch the floor to set me up for the day.

Whenever I feel a "wobble" I listen to a slimpod. I intend to do the same thing over Christmas.

I am delighted that I can give you a free slimpod to help you over Christmas. It doesn't matter if you haven't used them before. I have started listening to this already and with just over two weeks to go until Christmas I am confident my good works will continue even in this season of excess.

Christmas, of course, shouldn't be about food and drink exclusively although it is part of it. Christmas is so much bigger and brighter than that!

I do hope you will take the opportunity to try your obligation free slimpod free of charge, and see how it works for you!

Remember a slimpod is for life, not just for Christmas!

Wednesday, 2 December 2015

The Locked Ward and NICU

I became poorly a few weeks ago. It's anxiety and I can't go into great details about the causation suffice to say I have had anxiety issues throughout my life however I have never experienced anything as intense as this. A psychiatrist at the hospital felt an inpatient stay would be appropriate so I was admitted.

Ten reasons why a locked psychiatric ward is like NICU

1. You have no idea how long you will be there.

Just like when your baby is admitted it's only best guess how long your stay will be. For procedures like hips, knees, even heart surgery there are TLOS (target length of stay) guidelines and generally you can plot how long your stay will be. For NICU babies and psychiatric inpatients the guidelines are much broader and more variable.

2.  You cannot go outside

When Joseph was on the ward what I wanted more than anything was to take him for a walk in a pram. It was impossible So to with my stay on the ward. I was admitted on a Friday and grand round wasn't until Tuesday and until then I was not permitted to leave the ward (although I was there as an informal patient not sectioned).

3. You discover the NHS is not a 7 day a week, 24 hour a day service.

I hate admitting that Jeremy Hunt is right. Although doctors and nurses work every hour, many services do not exist at weekends, things like Occupational Therapy do not happen at weekends. Medication reviews can't really happen at weekends. If anything goes wrong staff need to be brought in. Weekends feel unsafe, both in NICU and psychiatric care.

4. Lack of budgets affect care

I was often told that things on NICU couldn't happen due to budgets, such as access to donated breast milk, even access for kangaroo care. It was the same on the unit. Our psychiatric unit had a well equipped gym, but no staff to supervise it so it was locked and unable to be used. We had a great OT room equipped with crafts only open 90 minutes a day due to staffing. And that was weekdays.

5. Support comes from your peers

On NICU I found a great camaraderie in the trenches. We all supported one another, the same is true of psychiatric care. I arrived late one Friday night, there was no food, all the patients rallied around to ensure I had food, they brought me books and hugs. On the Sunday when I was desperate for an apple and there were none to be found, a patient brought me two of his.

6. Discharge is swift

On Tuesday we had the grand round, I was expecting to get my leave plan allowing me time off the ward, instead I was told abruptly I was going home. The same happened with Joseph, discharged, on a Tuesday, after 10 and a half weeks, 3 less than we were expecting.

7. Community services suck

We had a lovely nurse when Joseph was discharged but once he reached his due date that was it. I was discharged to the home treatment team. I wasn't seen until the Sunday and they saw me and then discharged me from home treatment immediately. I had gone from being poorly enough to a section being suggested to being well enough to have no ongoing treatment. It brought back memories of being mum to baby only just 5lb, with a long NICU history, with very little support.

8. The memories remain

Like my NICU stay, often memories pop up in my day to day life and in my dreams. I am scared of my experiences and also intrigued by them. Fortunately my stay this time was 4 days not 76 so hopefully the processing won't take long.

9. It felt like home really quickly

Initially when I first saw the NICU I thought "I can't do this, not weeks and weeks of it" but quickly fell into a routine and when I left felt a bit bereft. The psychiatric unit was the same, I went from "No I can't stay here" to "yep this works for me" within a day.

10. The staff are amazing

I met the best staff during my stay, people who do this job because they are passionate about mental well being, just as neonatal staff are passionate about baby well being and families.

And a bonus 11th reason

I have no desire to return as a patient to either setting!

Wednesday, 25 November 2015

The Goat in the Bakery

This is the "camp" of my new friend Colin. I try to visit him most days. I buy him soup as that's what he likes the most. He gets given so much food that he usually ends up dispersing it amongst the other homeless. Colin doesn't use illicit drugs or drink. I think he must smoke though I have never seen him smoke but his hands look like smoker's hands.

Colin lost his job as a haridresser a few years ago due to failing eyesight. He lived in rented accommodation that he kept his rent up on, and in August his place sold to a new owner who promptly ejected him and his friends, Colin had nowhere to go. He does manage to sofa surf most nights but not all.

Anyway I left my bags with him the other day as I popped into the bakery to get his soup. This well to do woman stopped me.

"You are brave" she said.
I looked at her with suspicion.
"You left your bags with that um er, you know um"
I smiled "that's my friend actually".
She frowned "he went through your bags as soon as your back was turned".
I rolled my eyes "I don't think so dear".
She reached for my arm "he did I swear"
"Oh he got up did he, he doesn't normally"
She started to flounder a little.
I snapped a little "he has bags of his own next to him, he was reaching into his for some bread as he has loads and wanted some to have with his soup. If he has taken anything out of mine it's either Christmas cards or tampons, so if you don't mind would you let me get on with it?"


It brought to mind my favourite Gospel passage

Matthew 25:31-40New International Version (NIV)

The Sheep and the Goats

31 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. 32 All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
Colin has retinopathy. He has fallen through the gaps and I'm trying to get him help.
My MP David Nuttall is on the case so hopefully he knows of a way to help him get secure housing. 
In the mean time I can't really afford to buy him soup every day. So I unearthed my soup flask and made him some. I will visit him every day until he finds a home.
I hope this is sooner rather than later, I can't bear to see him alone at Christmas.
EDIT: Update this morning an email received from David

Dear Kylie,

Thank you for your email. 

With regard to Mr Johnson we will of course be happy to help him. I have asked my Senior Caseworker Miss Nabila Afilal to contact you.

With regard to Mr Johnson’s eyesight problem I will see if the Bury Society for Blind and Partially Sighted people are able to provide help as well.

Yours sincerely,

David Nuttall MP

Bury North

Sunday, 22 November 2015

The Clarence - Silver Street - PRofB

Our lovely afternoon at The Clarence, Silver Street People's Republic of Bury.

So yesterday Joseph and I decided to go and see if we could find Father Christmas. I will blog more about our day later. We decided to go and find cake. I suggested we try The Clarence . I had heard they do coffee and cake so I thought we should give it a go. I did intend The Clarence to be a much awaited date venue with the husband but Joseph pipped him at the post. Well Joseph was initially entranced by the busy Clarence and even at 3 in the afternoon there were only two tables left. We took a window seat.

"I will absolutely not have coffee and cake in a pub" said Joseph. We had already ordered. However coffee and cake for too is the princely sum of £7. No not each. £7 for two. £3.50. No one could accuse The Clarence of not being good value for money.

Things went wrong initially when the waitress said "we don't do chocolate cake, only chocolate and orange" They had Manchester Tart cake so I ordered that and chocolate and orange, hoping that one of those would suit sir. "I don't want American cake". Said my darling companion. I looked at him confused. "The Americans are always adding rubbish to chocolate cake". Okaaaaay. I replied quickly "you don't get more English than Manchester tart cake".

Joseph was fractious and all the patrons and staff jollied him along.

This look is "I really didn't want to like this place". Then the cakes arrived. To be honest mine was ordinary (the chocolate orange) but still fine. But the Manchester Tart Cake was heaven. Joseph shared! I was shocked as his first full funny sentence at not quite 3 was "sharing is for toys not food".

No trip for afternoon tea is complete without the obligatory trip to the toilets. "Mummy this sink looks Irish". How does he know this is called a Belfast sink. We have never spoken about Ireland.

Joseph adored the tiles, and said "these are amazing" I have a tile fetish and adored them too. He even liked the chair. Joseph's hot chocolate was too hot, and so they bought him a little bottle of milk which he loved.

I was happy as I got a lovely natter with my new friend Eiriann and her husband and son. This picture doesn't do this lovely family justice. She looked much more stylish than I did with an 8 month old. She reminded me very much of Leigh. 
On the way out, Joseph spotted "the moose". He looked intrigued and said "who shot the moose?" I replied that the moose died of old age, he was in fact the oldest deer in Scotland and God had called him to take care of all the baby deer taken too soon. Joseph accepted this without question.

The Clarence is a cosy traditional pub with a modern twist. The service was exemplary. The prices just so affordable, it had a beautiful atmosphere.

I will be going again for sure. Clearly this isn't sponsored content, we fell in the door and were met with kindness and good food.

What more could you ask for?