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You were a generous and loving mother & grandmother. To me you were a very caring friend.

I will always think of the kind things that you did for me and admire the devotion that you showed to your family.

I promise to try and look after your girls, as best I can.

Rest in peace, B.

It was a privilege to know you.

We love you.


Wallowing, a lot actually, yes

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Something has gone very wrong with the pelvis.

It has been on a steady decline for a few months but today I have attained a whole new level of shitfulness*.

The GP was consulted last week when things began getting out of control, when I could no longer manage the pain without some prescription drugs.

The ridiculous thing is that it seems to have just continued to worsen since then. If it weren’t obscene to do so I would love to post some pics of the swelling. My lower back and …… lower front?? Anyway, the front of my pelvis, are both ridiculously swollen. Swollen as in makes your body look distorted. Freakishly swollen.

I cannot sit up. Every muscle from the middle of my back to my knees seems to spasm if I do.

I can’t really find the words to express the negativity in my thoughts at the moment. I have avoided this blog because what should I say?

I don’t know where this is heading. I am not getting better.

No one has any ideas. There is nothing that can be done to help me apparently. This is just fact. It has been over four years and I have investigated every quack, poking and prodding specialist and witch doctor there is.

What do you do if the doctor just says, “Oh, it should just be better by now. I would have thought it would be better”. That is not helpful.

What if this just continues? Continues to get worse, with no reason for it?

The pain is such a  strident factor in my life. It is like a loud hum that is the background noise for everything that I do. So loud is this white noise of pain that recently when we were out shopping I got a real shock. The pain stopped. I was standing next to Beefcake waiting for a lift and I turned to him and told him that all of a sudden there was no pain. It was indescribable. I could breath, I could hear, I could feel. It only lasted a few minutes but it made me realise how much this is affecting me.

I am not prepared to live like this for the rest of my life.

What is the alternative though?

Sorry people. You don’t need to say anything. I just needed to vent this. I am a tangled bundle of dark emotions. Decent pain relief was supposed to fix that but alas, this pain is a tough nut to crack.

*Now I wouldn’t have thought that was a real word but WP says that indeed it is so who am I to disagree.


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Off to say goodbye today.

I think that’s a good enough reason to have a pretty boring old post.

I won’t let NaBloPoMo beat me, not this far into it.

I took the photo below a couple of days ago. It’s a little blurry but I think that effectively demonstrates the whirling dervish that is my boy. It could be interesting trying to keep him calm and still today. Heh, not likely.


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I’m feeling all kinds of emotions at the moment.

I’m sad about my Pa. I’m sad but I have been expecting it for some time and I have done a lot of grieving over the years of his decline. I’m glad that he got the chance to have a say in how it all ended. I’m glad that his children were all with him in those final days.

In many ways it was what people call a good death. I do understand this point, I do. When I was in my final year of uni, one of my prac supervisors (hospital practicum) said that she wanted a tattoo on her forehead that read “Not for 33” (the code for resus). I agree with her. I just feel a little tired I think, and tired of hearing people talk about good and bad deaths. It’s just over. I know that when he was able to understand what was happening to him, he hated it and he asked that we not take extra measures to keep him alive, when it was his time to go. I am glad that we were able to fulfill that request for him.

The funeral is Friday. It’s going to be a long day with the small children (2.5 hour drive each way) but I’m glad that I am able to go. I will go and try not to dwell in my grieving and I will celebrate his life.

There is a bit of a sticking point though. My father, who I no longer see due to many years of ‘stuff’, will be there. My mother is planning to leave him, she says (I am not convinced). In any event they still live together and my Pa was his father-in-law for 3o odd years and therefore my father will attend the funeral. He will almost certainly make a scene.

He is not a person who is able to judge appropriate versus inappropriate behaviour very well. He is extremely egocentric. He is convinced that my sister and I having broken off contact due to my mother “bad-mouthing” him. Yeah, nothing to do with all the years of trauma and abuse and his alcoholism. Not that.

It is self centred to worry about it, and, to be honest, I hate the tone that this post has taken. I just wish I didn’t have to deal with it. Beefcake and my bro-in-law will be there to keep him away. I”m just hoping he does and doesn’t try to make a scene. I just want to say goodbye to my Pa. I hope it can just be about him.

In the meantime, seeing as I can’t actually crawl into a little cave somewhere and wait this out, I am soooo grateful to have the blogs that I read and the people who read and comment here. It is actually fantastic therapy, to pull my head out of my own arse and read about what’s going on for other people. It helps tremendously.

P.S. Sorry for turning comments off on yesterday’s post. It just seemed appropriate to me.

In memory

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“Mick” Cecil Angus B

6th July 1921 – 24th November 2008

Rest In Peace Pa

We love you

Just needing to write it down

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My Pa is still with us. Five days since they decided to stop taking life-saving measures. I’m not even going in to all that means. I can’t stand to think about it.

My Mum called last night and asked me to speak to him. Worried that I had not had a chance to say goodbye and that, maybe, he is hanging on because he hasn’t said a proper goodbye to all of us. I’m glad I talked to him but it was hard.

I will never forget the sound of his breathing as my mother held the phone to his ear. I told her that his breathing sounded horrible. She told me “it is, Ali, it is”.

I have had to work in hospitals, with elderly people who are close to death like this but hearing “the death rattle” in this context was more distressing than I could have imagined.

It’s a bit odd but it helps so much to be able to read other peoples blogs and to write here. It’s escapism, sure, but it’s what I need right now.

Aligning my heart with my groin so I can walk in the forest

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I’m trying to pull myself out of the exhaustion and apathy I am currently experiencing. My Pa is still hanging on. All of my aunts and uncles (and Mum) are taking it in shifts to sit by his bedside. He slipped into a coma early yesterday morning and his body just seems to be gradually winding down. I guess for some this may be an inappropriate subject for blog posts but it helps me tremendously to write it down, to acknowledge it. I haven’t had a lot of time to do that.


There was just a “special” on tv called “You can heal your life”. As far as I can tell it involves inviting angels in to help you evolve so that you can have acceptance vibrations, which are the same as love vibrations and then you’ll be walking through a forest and all of a sudden feel like letting your hair down from that restrictive bun because the theory of floating was not developed by thinking about sinking. Also you have to create your own heaven on earth because nobody wants to listen to someone who is poor. There may have been something about aligning your groin chakras with your heart. I’m pretty sure that’s what they said. Maybe I missed a few bits but I think I got the general gist. SO, I’m gonna give that a burl when I finish this.

I’m thinking it’d be good if I could implement this by the end of the day because I’m really knackered and Grub crapped on me at the supermarket and it keeps raining every time I try to put washing out and then the sun comes out when I come back in and it’s annoying. Also, Beefcake keeps flicking the tv between cricket, car racing and some special on The Pussycat Dolls so I’m pretty sure my life needs some healing.

Beefcake just read this over my shoulder and wanted me to clarify that he’s not actually watching the Pussy Cat Dolls, so now you all know.

Off to go chat to my angels (or I might clean the bathroom, either way).