Life with MND - October 2014

A lighter meal at tea time seems to have solved the problem of reflux in evenings.

 With nothing further to tell readers this month other than the ongoing disablement of the body, which I go on about constantly, I’ll give it a break unless anything unforeseen happens. I though it would be in order to delve into analysis of the impact in my lifetime of the amount of changes that have taken place, as I recall it. 

Living in a ‘tied house’ owned by the farm where Dad worked  and which was situated three miles from the town of Elgin - (to digress a moment, when brother Allan and I shared our first bicycle in our early teens when going into town we would take the bike with one setting off riding it, while the other started walking. The one on bike would go so far along the road and set  it down by the roadside and start walking, whilst the original walker would pick up the bike and then pass the walker and so the procedure went on until we were in Elgin.- A good system of   devouring the 3miles quickly.)

Imagine our typical quiet rural setting, shaken by the sudden introduction of an airfield (called Bogs of Mayne and bombers flew from the airfield) plus all the related buildings that went with such an operational wartime airfield. Also, of course, the building workers needed to build it. Mum got the job of cleaner at the wooden hutted builder’s offices – a welcome additional income to Dad’s meagre farm servant’s wage no doubt! Plus she also ‘took in’ two lodgers’ from those helping in the erection of the airfield buildings – this was around 1942/43 and would not be acceptable in the present day when two total strangers slept in the same bed!!

 

Switching back to our house- –one of Dad’s jobs on a Sunday was dig a hole in the garden to empty our dry toilet (luckily the garden had a light greedy soil that absorbed contents quickly)

Often it was Allan or I had the job to carry fresh water from the well about 200 meters from the house. I think it was in the early fifties that a sink in the scullery and a bathroom were installed. Then in 1955, whilst in the RAF I remember receiving a letter from Mum saying we now had electricity installed. It was goodbye to the paraffin lamps and our old favourite, the tilly lamp.

With the disbandment of the airfield after the war , it left all their empty buildings and it was only a matter of time when, ‘in dribs and drabs’ around 80 families of ‘squatters’  or others of all description took up residence.

After loosing the ‘hustle and bustle’ of the RAF once again we were to experience the ‘hustle and bustle’ with even more involvement with the ‘squatters’ for instance, our buses suddenly became crowded, and our village shop which often had to wait for its next customer suddenly became overwhelmed with customers.   

Brother Allan took on the task of collecting Sunday papers from Elgin in a second hand ‘message bike’ and sold them around all inhabitants in the hutted area and locals, I on the odd occasion helped him. It’s an experience I can still recall vividly, of involvement with all whether married or otherwise.

In the mid-fifties there weren’t many, in our social bracket that owned cars, and I always remember that going to country dances on Friday nights in a friend’s Vauxhall Velox, although the organisers of the dances put on a free bus from Elgin.

Also in my life span, came space travel, ending up with putting men onto the moon - which to my beliefs was like a fairly tale.

Finally, a more personal change in my life span was being diagnosed in 2005 with MND.  Normally this illness comes in one of three types, but by far the most common and aggressive type is ALS, which has a prognosis of between 2 and 5 years. Having now almost reached ten years since being diagnosed, I must surmise I’m in for ‘the long haul.’ As I get more reliant on others, especially Jean, I’m more frequently drawn to the thought I’m ready to go and give Jean some respite release from my constant trivail  and  major requests in her twilight years.