Life with MND - 2013 - July

July

Leon, and his grand parents paid a visit early in the month.  It was so interesting, at only nine months old seeing him being able, from knees to a standing position with only the help of a handhold. It certainly brought it home to me what I’d lost in muscle strength.

On 13^th we attended a family gathering, but with very little eye contact with people because of head continually dropping to chest I felt a bit isolated, and withdrawn. Until solution is found I’d be incline to avoid such meetings and it will rest with Occupational Therapist or supplier of electric chair to come up with an answer that may help.

At home and especially whilst on computer the problem of my drooping head has partially been solved by  a combination of the recent conversion to existing chair which now reclines, a cordless mouse, and having the keyboard on screen.It means I can now  sit well back from computer in a reclined position and work mouse off screen.  

Concerned how I’d get on eating out in public we went to a local busy restaurant for morning coffee and a scone. Coffee was no problem as I use a straw at home for all drinks (other than sprits which I still persevere without straw in glass). The scone was ‘home baked and crumbly’, however and I’d really to be over the napkin to avoid embarrassment of making a mess.  Result was, unless selective choice of eats (like shortbread) I could draw attention to myself, but we both enjoyed our wee outing with Jean looking around rest of shop, whilst I sipped coffee and really  enjoyed ‘people watching’.

According to ‘feed back’ my story has been well received at our health centre and local cottage hospital from doctors to nurses.

 

Here’s a rhyme in the Doric (see note below) by Ian C Middleton, a bit of humour for nurses.

My auntie’s a nurse in a medical ward and wis gie’in a patient his drug, 

Fin he happened t spot as she bent ower the bed, a suppository in the back o er lug, (ear)

‘That’s a droll place t pit it’, thinks he till imsel: ‘fits the reason? ‘he wintit t ken, (know)

‘Oh! My god’. Howled auntie, ‘it’s a gweed job ye noticed—it means some bum’s got ma pen’!  

It’s been a challenging month as disablement trundles relentlessly on,  but feel I’ve coped well both in ‘mind set’ and adjustments.

(Note from the techie! - Doric is the local 'dialect' spoken and written in the area in Scotland - Gordon has always had a keen interest in the 'language' and continues to use and support it to this day - readers may previously have read that he tried to teach his first lite-writer to speak Doric, much to everyone's amusement. I have reproduced the poem below in English, just in case the above makes no sense!)

My Aunt is a nurse in a medical ward and was giving a patient his drug
When he happened to spot as she leant over the bed, a suppository at the back of her ear
that is a strange place to put it, thinks he to himself, what was the reason he wanted to know
My God, Auntie howled, its a good job you noticed, it means some bum has got my pen!