The Welsh Girl by Peter Ho Davies.
Saturday, 29 March 2008
And.....
Before I got carried away with my iSight camera (yes, I'm a Mac Poser and will quite likely bore you ridgid about it in future posts), I was going to post something lovely to listen to.
And EmmyLou is my idea of lovely. So, if you share that with me, then go ahead and click. I just love the dark sentimentallity of this song.
So, anyway, there I was in the doctor's surgery and we'd concluded the discussion about HRT with me pocketing a prescription. I knew the next bit might not be so straightforward.
"I've got something else to ask you about," I said, not knowing how what I was about to say might go down, "Do you see any reason why I shouldn't jump out of an airplane?" slight dramatic pause, then "With a parachute, of course, and strapped on to someone who knows what they're doing. And if not, then would you be willing to sign a piece of paper to that effect?" (I actually ad one ready typed, just in case she'd go for it straight away). She said something about tests and how she couldn't say for sure because she didn't know me very well, and then that it might cost something, and, oh yes, I'll need an ECG.
Actually, I didn't think to ask why I need an ECG, unless I just do anyway. Do the other winners of this competition need an ECG? Or is it just me, I wonder? Still, another of my medications requires a regular ECG screening every few years and it's about due, so not actually a big deal. Just a bit strange. I know I'm getting older because I want to start a sentence with "In this day and age...", but really, in this day and age, when we actually do have legislation that is supposed to stop disabled people being treated differently to non-disabled people in the same circumstances, why is it still going on. Oh yes, silly me, the last bastion of the medical model of disability, is of course, the medical profession. Had I forgotten that or was it just that I'd become accustomed to dealing with the Nurse Practitioners instead a
nd being treated without judgement?
So, anyway, I'll be back at the surgery next week to have the ECG, then 3 weeks later to see the doctor again re whether the HRT is working. And then I might get my doctor's not.
I also had my passport application form today. My last one expired 3 years ago. I haven't been anywhere out of the UK since 1998 when I went to the Michigan Women's Music Festival and also met some of the women I'd be talking to in a chat room but that's another whole story. So now I have to go through that whole painful process of selecting a photograph to use, bearing in mind that it has to last me another 10 years so there's no point having a photo of me at 35.
So, maybe I'll use this one, I thought. I took it in 2006, which isn't so very long ago, when I first started working for DASH and had to have a picture for my ID badge.
Then again, maybe I should take a new one, and being as the Mac has the iSight camera and a great little application called Photo booth, then why not use it to get a new picture. Well, actually, the reason not to is that I'd need to either set up a white or cream background or get caught up in removing the background digitally. Which I can do, of course, but why bother when this one will do the trick? Well, one reason to bother is because it's quite fun, and you can even get into pretending like you're in a real photo booth, not just at home on the sofa with some very bad taste cushions in the background, and make silly faces, which I'm rather good at as it happens.
Another week gone
Or is it 2? Time really just does fly by. 6 months sounds like plenty time, and in fact is,today, exactly 6 months to the day that I'll be doing the airplane jumping-out-of thing. So that feels like a good time to start counting down.....
So, since my last post, I decided that, as I have to goto the Doctor's and get a letter pronouncing me medically fit to jump, I may as well have 'that' conversation as well. The one I've been putting off for a good 6 years now. Yes, it's time for me to give waiting for the hot flushes to cease, all by themselves, and beg for some HRT. Slightly alarmed by the fact that neither of the 2 nurse practitioners that I prefer to see were available anytime soon, the receptionist seemed to sense that I didn't want to see a male doctor and offered me an appointment with a female doctor that afternoon. She, it turns out is "a big fan of HRT", so was quite happy to prescribe me a low dose synthetic drug called Livial/Tibolone which should start to work within a week, deep joy (actual, not sarcastic) rather than the month that most other types of HRT take to become effective.
That's probably the best news I've had in ages. I really can't wait for it to happen now. It's quite amazing what we put up with when adverse circumstances become habitual. It's the night time ones that really bother me. In the daytime it's bad enough, and quite embarrassing if it happens in the middle of a meeting at work (and the embarrassment just makes it worse, as does any stress situation or actual heat) but they pass relatively quickly. At night they go on and on. I wake up over and over again, either because I'm equator hot and need to get the covers off or because I've already thrown the covers off, but then cooled down, so the cold air is on my sweat drenched skin and I'm arcticaly cold. Over and over again. So what this does is cause a long term, chronic (yes, tautology for dramatic effect) state of sleep deprivation. And that makes it hard to concentrate, hard to remember things in the short and medium term and hard to even remember what I was going to say next. I'm sure it'll come back to me.
Eventually.
So as good night's sleep is something I'm REALLY looking forward to. And if it really does happen within a week, I am so going to go on and one about it.
Friday, 21 March 2008
The Next Day
Well, the next day, I woke up with a feeling of excitement. Did that really happen yesterday? Did a man called Glenn call me up and say that I'm going to Las Vegas to jump out of an airplane? I think he did, you know. It's a really nice change for me to wake up with a frisson of excitement, rather than just a frisson of menopausal sweatiness. Sorry, that may be disgusting, but that's just how it is at the moment.
But it was a work day and I had plenty to get on with, including a Funding and Fundraising Fair to attend and I had to find a new grate for my tenant's Raeburn. If only I wasn't so distractible. It's quite usual for me to set out to check my emails, which should really only take about 10-30 minutes, depending on how many need urgent responses, but then get side tracked by something or nothing. Which I did. So then it was nearly time for my Home Care worker to come and empty my ashes. And then a quick bath, out to find the Raeburn grate in Lampeter and then home again, a quick coffee and toast and out to the F&F Fair. Some good freebies and a few helpful chats with funders and back home via the supermarket in Aberystwth. Any time I'm up that way I like to go to Morrisons because they have an electric scooter that one can borrow, and after going round and round the F&F fair I was in no fit state to be walking round a supermarket. So I asked for the scooter keys and jumped aboard (I use the term 'jumped' loosely). However the scooter was having none of it and I had to call the nice lady who gave me the keys back again. She apologized and said that someone had been out on it for 2 hours earlier and that was probably why it was responding. Great, thanks very much. What on earth can you do in a supermarket for 2 hours? So I ended up in a manual wheelchair, with a device I call 'the cage' shackled onto it, and a very pleasant, if rather spotty, youth to push me around. I don't like having to resort to that but I needed goat's milk and beer and the walking thing wasn't going to happen, so I had little choice. I just hope someone at Morrissons HQ reads this (yeah, right, I know) and decides to send another scooter to their Aberystwyth store. That was the second time that happened in a row, and the previous time I'd just gone without the shopping, this time I submitted to 'the cage' but only bought the essentials on my list. So it's actually just good commercial sense to have enough scooters for all number of customers likely to make use of it.
So ok, that whole last paragraph may seem like a bit of a distraction from the whole Bluehook goes to Las Vegas thing but in a way it's not. If you have limited mobility, life is a series of misadventures with access equipment, people and their weird attitudes, and all the wider barriers that people who have an impairment or two, or several, have to face in a world that still disables us in so many ways. And this will be relevant when I go to Vegas. Already I was starting to think about how I'd get home (6pm by now) and my very good friend and sometime P.A. (I'll call her J.C.) was visiting next door so I called her in for a chat and asked her how she'd fancy the idea of a high octane trip to Vegas, as my P.A.? With what amounted to almost negative hesitation, she said she'd be very much up for it and when are we going. She'd previously instructed me to win a holiday to the Bahamas, but this would do nicely.
So I had a look at my email then to see if there was any more info on the trip from 'the sponsor' and indeed there was, including the date of the trip, and various forms to fill in.
From: Jo@perform.co.uk Subject: THE BUCKET LIST - NEWS OF THE WORLD WINNER |
Hello Rachel, Congratulations on winning the trip to Las Vegas. We will be handling the arrangements and you will be travelling with other international winners on the same dates. I have attached some documents that need your attention and these are the information sheet, which contains details needed to book the trip, and then the waiver forms. The waiver forms need to be signed by you and your guest and returned please. We cannot process the booking until we have these 3 forms. |
THE BUCKET LIST
SATURDAY 27TH SEPTEMBER 2008 ARRIVE LAS VEGAS TRANSFER TO HOTEL SUNDAY 28TH SEPTEMBER CASINO & DINNER MONDAY 29TH SEPTEMBER TANDEM SKYDIVING TUESDAY 30TH SEPTEMBER SHELBY FACTORY TOUR & GO-KARTS WEDNESDAY 1ST OCTOBER HOTEL CHECK-OUT 12:00 TRANSFER TO AIRPORT DEPART LAS VEGAS
|
And check out that hotel.... wowee. I've never stayed anywhere like that before. The poshest hotel I've ever stayed in before was a couple of nights in Portmerion, in The Dome Room, and that was pretty amazing. I was doing a presentation for the NOEA and it was a freebie, otherwise I'd never have had an opportunity like that. Anyway (see what I mean about getting distracted?), I had an agenda, a P.A. and now I just needed to fill in the details.
So the next day I email a response asking various questions and, because I'd read that sometimes sponsors will chuck in extras for free, I thought I'd have a go at asking for a second room and a mobility scooter. I also outlined my impairments for her a bit (no point giving too much detail to start off with, it just scares them). Within half an hour she was on the phone to me. The conversation went something like this:
Jo - "I'm assuming then that you won't be taking part in the skydiving or go-karting?"
Me - "Why not?"
Jo - "We'll need a doctor's note then"
Me - (silently rolling my eyes) "Of course, and I'll be having a conversation with my doctor about the whole thing." etc.
I try to keep sounding positive, cheerful and generally not like the stroppy crip that I am, when I'm having these type of conversations. I find that if I do let out the stroppy crip, people get frightened and are less likely to try and help. So she confirmed all this by email...
From: Jo@perform.co.uk |
Hello Rachel ... |
It's the doctor's note bit that made me roll my eyes. I've been go-karting (my spell checker doesn't like 'go-karting' and has suggested 'go-farting' instead) before, and I have a driving licence so there's really no issue there. Any why would it matter whether I've got one hand or that I can't walk very far when I'm going to be strapped onto somebody who knows what they're doing? However, I shall play the game and get the doctors note. It's probably about time I checked out the results of my last bone density scan anyway, because if I am heading in osteoporosis (not unlikely, given the family history and my own medical history) then, perhaps, the whole jumping out of an airplane is a bit daft anyway. I get scanned every 2 years but I'm pretty sure that if I did have osteoporosis I would find out long before the scan showed anything up since I do, fairly regularly, fall over, walk into things and have other more bizarre accidents. I don't think there will be a problem getting the doctors note, but I have learned to expect the unexpected when it comes to me interacting with doctors. In fact, I never actually see a doctor if I can help it. I fax in my repeat prescription form and pick up the medication at the chemist. If I do need to see a human being, I'll see one of the two Nurse Practitioners instead. For a start there's very seldom a wait of more than 10 minutes, unlike seeing a doctor which will typically take an hour to an hour and a half in the waiting room. And, more importantly, they treat me like a real person, they take what I say at face value and treat it accordingly, unlike doctor's who always want to put their own spin on it, especially if they notice that I have a mental health 'record' as well. Doctors seem to find it much easier to assume that, because I've had mental health issues, everything else is down to that. It's an attitude I've unwittingly colluded with over the years, telling myself that whatever symptom I'm experiencing is 'in my head', that it's not real. I have dreams in which people are taunting me that my right hand hasn't really been amputated, that I'm just hiding it up my sleeve, and I look down, and there it is, not always intact (I lost the hand in several stages) but more or less of a hand. It's very embarrassing. So I won't actually be going to se a doctor at all, but I will get a signed note to satisfy Jo.
The phone call
I've never actually had the desire to jump out of an airplane (with or without a parachute), but then this happened:-
On Tuesday 18th March, I was in a shoe shop in Carmarthen and my phone rang. The display said 'Unknown Caller' so I very nearly pressed the reject button, but decided instead to answer it.
The voice at the other end said that he was called Glen and was calling from The News of The World. 'That's odd..', thought, 'what can they be wanting to sell me?', so it was quite a surprise when he said that I'd won a competition to go to Las Vegas for 4 days. My next two thoughts were: 'what a great photo opportunity' and 'I'm not doing any gambling, that's a mug's game'. I didn't think much more about it till I got home and read the confirmation email.
From: glenn.hatch@newsint.co.uk Subject: Bucket List - YOU ARE A WINNER Date: 18 March 2008 15:31:05 GMT To: bluehook@madasafish.com |
Congratulations Rachel! | Glenn Hatch | Competitions Department | Tel: 020 7782 6370 | Fax: 020 7680 9479 | Mobile: 07983 434 821| News International Customer Liaison | 1 Virginia Street | London | E98 1RL glenn.hatch@newsint.co.uk| glenn.hatch@the-sun.co.uk| News International are the publishers of: P please consider the environment - do you really need to print this email? "Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail" |
Ok, so let's take this one step at a time.
- 4 Night in Las Vegas. Well, that's quite something in itself. It's not the sort of destination I'd ever have chosen, as an Aspie, it's just the sort of location that threatens to over stimulate me completely. Fortunately the ticket is for 2 people so I knew I could bring a P.A. with me, and I know just the woman for the job.
- Caviar. Is fish eggs. I'm a dedicated vegetarian but I did try caviar before I went veggie, and I know what it tastes like and that it is just fish eggs really. So maybe I'll skip that one.
- Casino Chips. Yes, I said I wasn't going to gamble. But when I thought that, I was thinking about not gambling with my own money. Gambling with someone else's money. Now that's different, eh?
- Tandem skydiving. Like I said, I've never had the urge to do do any kind of extreme sport, I've had quite enough injuries doing relatively safe things. But then again, if the universe is telling me to do so, then I should. Maybe. No, definitely. I work for a charity and in the last year several people (young, fit people that is) have done sponsored parachute jumps for us. I've always said that I wouldn't ever like to be in a position where I'm asking someone else, be it a volunteer or an employee, to do something that I could not be prepared to do myself. So my bluff has been called and I have to jump. Though if I'm going to jump, I'm going to raise some sponsorship for it. I'll set up a paypal button soon.
- Shelby factory tour. I had no idea what the Shelby Factory is, so I googled it and came up with this on youtube.
- Travel insurance is included. Just as well, is what I thought to that. I wonder if it covers the whole jumping out of airplanes thing?
So, now I know it is a big museum full of cars. Well, that's not something I'd have ever though of doing either, but what the heck.
And that was that. Now I just had to wait for the sponsor to get in touch.
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