Crazy is a requirement.

Life and times in the year of Corona

2020-11-23T12:15:00.001+13:00

As the year draws to a close, I thought I should put fingers to keyboard and let you know how the year has been.

2020 will forever be remembered for the Corona Virus and the mass devastation that this world-wide pandemic has caused. Here in NZ, we managed to get through the pandemic relatively unscathed and have watched the rest of the world, (especially the USA) with concern. Haydn and I celebrated out 25^th Wedding Anniversary during the lockdown. Actually, we had a perfect time working and living in insolation for months. I bought a BIG screen TV and now, every night is movie night! The most significant change in our dynamic is that he is now the chatty Kathy and I am the quiet one. Haydn learned to cook this year and is now quite the chef! I discovered that Haydn speaks so loudly on Teams that I had to move to another floor of the house and still close my door. He sits with his hands over his eyes on every call and now even does that when he is in the office, people keep asking if he is okay 😊. He had his first health scare and we had to go to A & E for him for the first time since arriving in New Zealand in 2006. All is well thankfully and we can laugh about it now.

My youngest daughter moved out but ended up returning home a few months later – because we have custody of all the dogs 😉. We have had some laughs and some tears but overall our we loved every minute, to the extent that we wished lockdown could go on forever. Although I imagine, our version of lockdown was different from many other places in the world. We could still walk the dogs and get out of the house and into nature quite easily, and the NZ population cooperated, and we were all safe.

There are clear advantages to living on a remote island in the Pacific, with a government that took swift and decisive action to ensure that things didn't get out of hand (unlike the idiot Oompa Loompa with the tiny hands!).

While I can make light of our experiences, there was a serious side to this year. Many people lost their jobs or were forced to close their businesses due to the loss of revenue. We held our breath when many of our relatives got Covid-19 and are relieved that most managed to pull through. We lost some special people who are fondly remembered and sorely missed. Our hearts go out to everyone that has suffered a loss this year. I hope that with time and the love of friends and family around you, you will find your way back to happiness and a new albeit different way of life.

This year we also got our utility belts on and built a fence between our untidy neighbours and us. Now my husband is putting in a laminated wooden floor to replace the carpet that the Puppycathorsedog ripped up with his running and skidding antics. That dog is just too much! He is the cutest, idiot dog I have ever had, destroying every "smart Labrador" theory that ever there was. The fool is incapable of learning and overly capable of loving, and so we are stuck with the crazy fool of a dog. He and my baby are an adorable but odd couple that entertains us for hours on end. Cushla, our 12-year-old grand lady Poodle-Shih Tzu has gone senile and forgotten that she is old or that she doesn't like dogs and sometimes, even joins in the fun.

My ever-present companion does not claw at my sanity quite as much as it used to. I have noticed that my pain levels are slowly creeping up, but that is probably because I am doing so much more than I was able to before the surgery. I manage without the very heavy opioids that had my head swimming for 2018/2019. For the most part, my levels sit at around a 5/10, for most of the day, creeping up towards 3 pm and then dropping down a bit again overnight. This is the best I can hope for, and I accept it for what it is.

In my last post, I mentioned that I was starting a psychology degree while working full time. I did three papers in both semester one and semester two, and despite Covid-19 and lockdown, this went pretty well! I will admit to high-stress levels towards the end of semester two, as I had numerous assignments and tests and a full workload all at the same time.

I am blessed to have a husband, family, boss and colleagues who are all so supportive and understanding. This encouragement and tolerance made it all possible.

I ended up completing six papers, (90 points) and achieving an A average, which I am thrilled about. I am sure about my path, and my only regret is that I have come to this path so late in the game. I wish that I could be a full-time student and finish as fast as possible, but the real world does not work that way. The question now is: do I take three papers or, do I make life a bit easier and only take 2. The BIG negative is that if I only take two papers, then it will take another four years to complete, which is not appealing at all. Decisions, decisions – at least I have some time to figure this all out because the health faculty does not have any papers available in summer school.

For the first time in six years, I do not have a conference the week before Christmas. I have to say that I find myself remarkably filled with Christmas spirit and a lightness of mood that is uncommon for me at this time of year. So I wish you all a very merry Christmas and let's hope that 2021 is filled with wondrous and joyful things.

Suspend your Disbelief!

2020-02-26T13:08:00.000+13:00

Well, here I am dear friends… finally, I will resume my writing!

I refer to my FB post (made today) “Reality has set in - I have an empty nest, and so I am starting over... not with children (hahaha) but with a complete career change. I make myself accountable to you all that I am starting and will (eventually) complete a BHSc Degree in Psychology, while I work- FULL TIME! Crazy or not here I go... 😲🤓#maturestudentjourney #crazyisarequirement.”

Yes, it is true. At age 46, I will begin an undergraduate degree in Psychology at my own university (AUT). This is daunting for 100 reasons, but here are the highlights:

I haven’t studied anything this big since the 1990s!
I am still working full time!
All my colleagues will be able to see my grades – SH1T – no pressure!

As daunting as this is, I have a great WHY. I am very bored with administrative work and need to find new challenges. My back surgery, while it has fixed everything structurally, has not really resolved my pain. This means that I will not be able to continue working an office job indefinitely, and I am not ready for a sickness benefit or retirement. I am very interested in the topic and would really like to be able to help people.

So please, wish me luck and help me remember so that I do not fail.

I will be the little engine that could.

The end.

It's been a while...

2018-08-22T12:14:00.000+12:00

Yes, it really has.

The past two years have seen some significant changes indeed. We have finally purchased a house - in Stanmore Bay - and we have a new wee dog "Akela" who makes me laugh every day.

My beloved father passed away due to complications associated with COPD and Renal Cancer. He is missed every single day. My Mom is in a Rest Home and is still trying to find a new normal.

My oldest daughter is in Wellington working and saving for an OE and my youngest is in her last year of high school.

I had a hysterectomy in late February this year which went well. But, sadly, my body is getting progressively harder to deal with and I am beginning to question how long I will be able to continue working full time. My last MRI showed that three discs are bulging, two of which are torn, I have two compressed nerves (L4 and S1) and synovial cysts and fluid collecting around the joints in my Lumbar spine. This toppled with my existing CPS has made my life a world of pain.

Basically this means that I will need surgery again to fuse my L-spine. I am getting used to this idea at the moment but it has been difficult to accept.

I have started 2 books but they are still in early stages so not much more to share on the writing side for now. I will update again soon.

Entitlement - the belief that one is inherently deserving of privileges or special treatment.

2016-03-10T13:29:00.000+13:00

I have not posted in some time as I was working on a different writing project but once again I have found inspiration...

Entitlement: Type the word into Google images search engine and you will find a whole lot of funny quotes and images about entitlement. How is it that so many people have an unrealistic sense of what is fair or what they deserve? Is there a greater conspiracy here or do so many people really think that they are "The Shizzle"?

Just this week I had a member of staff asking me to pay for a taxi for her to get to work because she sprained her ankle tramping over the weekend and so she was not able to walk to work as she normally does. My first instinct is to always be of assistance but upon reflection and further discussion I have to admit that this is an unreasonable request. Imagine for a moment if every workplace was responsible for paying for staff to get to work when they injured themselves outside of the workplace. When I explained that it was not the university's responsibility to get her to work, within her normal hours she replied that it would be our responsibility if she called in sick and we had to find someone to teach her class. This is fair enough and also true enough, however I counter (in my head because it is not my argument to make) that normally one would not take sick leave for a twisted ankle, would you?

This made me think of other people who I believe have an unusual sense of self-importance...

My teenage daughters', for example, who seem to think that we should always purchase/pay for what they want, when they want it. Or, that we are put on this earth to cook, clean and taxi them around whenever they require it. I reluctantly admit that I am probably a bit guilty of enabling them in this belief, because I want to provide for them and I also want them to be able to rely on me but, have I created monsters who will go through life thinking the world owes them? No, I don't really believe so. They are fundamentally really good kids and they give me such joy and a huge sense of pride - well, mostly anyway. I also think that I let them get away with doing very little around the house because I know that eventually (all too soon) they will have to be adults and take care of themselves.

Okay, yes, I digress, back to the topic:

I know someone who has used money that was supposed to be a loan and has never repaid it, a rather large sum, which he claims he is unable to repay. This same individual takes an overseas trip every year; drives a nice car; has a band new home in a country estate, complete with a cinema; takes his kids on extravagant holidays; etc. The persons who lent him the money (which was pretty much all they had) now live on a state benefit in comparable poverty and seldom see or hear from him. He does not seem to think that he has done anything wrong, which baffles me completely.

It is worth noting here that the lenders have not taken any action against him. Which means that he has no pressure to take any responsibility for his actions.

Why is it that some people have no conscience while others dutifully pay their own way, not taking or expecting handouts? Is entitlement something that your parents raise you to have or lack or is this an internal moral compass setting - more nature than nurture? What makes one person think that he/she is due more than another person or conversely, what makes others believe that they are due/deserve nothing at all. Is there a way to strike a balance? I don't know, but I sure hope so.

I have a pretty good sense of right and wrong, this doesn't make me perfect - not by a long shot. But I try to be a just and good person. I do my best to pay it forward when I can and help my fellow man, if I can.

All the world's a stage and we are merely players. Do you mean to play a villain or a hero?

Sorry, not sorry?

2015-09-08T11:28:00.003+12:00

It's impossible for me to articulate exactly what it is that living with centralised pain means. Like with most ailments, there are good days and bad. Sometimes… days turn into weeks, months and even years.
As this became a part of my life I found myself comparing a real pain to what I imagined a certain sensation would feel like. Early on, these descriptions were commonplace and uninspired. I recognised that vacant glaze in the polite eyes of my colleagues, friends and family. After all, there really are only so many times that you can hear someone recite, “Not great today” or “still in a fair bit of pain” before they no longer wish to hear how you really feel. The sad, helpless tilt to the head and the inward lip pucker that shows sympathy but little comprehension. The drama queen in me is tempted to shock you with wonderfully descriptive soliloquies in response to some inane comments that have been passed… You: You look tired. Me: Do I? I guess that’s because I didn’t get much sleep last night and when I did, I dreamt that I was an unwilling victim in a medieval torture chamber. I may have woken up screaming but can’t be sure, I was wet with sweat because I have to keep my electric blanket on all the time to alleviate the bone chill sensation. I was in too much pain to get up and take painkillers and so I just lay there for a couple of hours contemplating the merits of driving off a cliff.” You: Isn’t there any medicine that would help? and/or Do you really need all that? Me: I take medication, in all honesty, I swallow an average of 10 to 16 pills a day. Does that sound excessive? Well, imagine that you had the sensation that a small rodent was running under your skin. It's little claws wrenching at the muscles and plucking at nerves. Then picture, for just one damn minute that the rodent forces itself in between your ribs. The selfish little shit starts stretching and tugging on your intercostal muscles causing a muscle spasm that makes you think that you are having a heart attack; or it burrows into a muscle like a dog in a pile of blankets, scratching and pawing around in little circles before finally settling down in the bunched up tight mess that it has created. Now that the rodent is asleep a new tormentor awakens. Using a liquid nitrogen Captain Cold wanders around maliciously freezing the odd bone or two with one hand while using a pick axe to shatter, pierce and chip some of these bones - just for giggles. While all this is happening you are suddenly distracted by the invisible 10-ton truck has just pulled up onto your sternum instantly removing your ability to inhale and, or exhale. Now, please, try to imagine that the only way to get all this to stop is to chug a handful of painkillers, anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxants and anticonvulsants. You: You sure lie down a lot! Is reading and watching Netflix all you do? Me: Please refer to the monologue above and let me know… If your body did crap like this would you be moving around for fun? My house is tidy and my family is fed. After a day at work, my body puts on a little protest. This is on a good day. On a good day, I sit and stand at my desk for 8 hours. By 5pm I have allodynia (heightened sensitivity) to anywhere my clothing does more than touch my skin. My bra feels like barbed wire cutting into my flesh; the waist on my pants (which are not tight) has caused an ache that is akin to a stitch but circles my waist; even my socks have caused a swelling that would make you think that I had tight elastic bands around my ankles. So yes, after a full day I need a little lie-down. If I lay there without something to distract my brain then all these sensations would throb and hum with malevolence. I thank God every day for Netflix and books – they are the saviours of my sanity. Do I aggrandise the situation? Would it make you understand? No, it isn’t like this every day but if I am having a bad day then this is really what my body feels like. You: You sure do drink a lot of coffee! Me: Do I? Well, perhaps that is because for me a good night is six hours sleep or because the medication that I take is strong enough to knock out an elephant. I do not partake of alcohol with any regularity nor do I smoke. I do not over-medicate in the way many with my condition do. I still hold a full-time job that I perform pretty well and so I really do think that as far as vices go, coffee is not such a bad one. I know that I can be morose and occasionally a bit snippy but the last thing that a person in pain wants to hear is: You: Wow, you sure are grumpy! or What’s eating you? Me: Let me adumbrate just how much things suck inside this vessel (my body) at the moment by explaining some little-known facts to you. My neural pathways are damaged, occasionally I receive a “confused” pain signal for something that is only a remembered pain – the sensation is exact in all its vividness - bar one crucial fact - it is just a memory. Could you even conceive of an existence when you wake up feeling like a bird who has had her wings ripped off, or would you endeavor to walk around with the sensation that you have been chopped in half and then glued back together (badly) simply because you slept in an unfamiliar bed, or carried a bag of groceries, or some other equally frivolous action or even inaction. Do you have the vaguest idea how difficult it is for me to ask for help? Can you visualise how humiliated I feel when I cannot reach my own foot, to tie my shoelace or cut my toenails? You probably cannot. You probably think that because I am in pain all the time that I should just be used to it and get on with things. Or that I should “push through” and “force” myself to do more. Well, if we could swap shells for just one month and you could carry mine and I yours, then perhaps we would have more tolerance and readiness to help each other. Oh, I know that I have my faults too but I can still remember what it was like to be “able”. How do you suppose you would cope if you had constant but varying levels of pain? At this point, my eyes swim with unshed tears because I am jealous of you and frustrated with you but I would never, ever, wish this upon you. Not for a day. Then I would smile at your shocked face, take a deep breath and ask you how things are going for you. I have limitations that on occasion make me feel sick – like I have a body flu; or disabled – because I have difficulty walking, standing and, or sitting. Centralised pain is an invisible illness that makes you feel so much older than you really are and infinitely less able than you really should be. The worst thing about it, though, is that it changes all the time and so it is impossible to get used to. Please don’t misunderstand me, I am not actually after pity, nor am I trying to shame you for not knowing how to behave. All I want is a little tolerance and understanding, some empathy and encouragement. Chances are that even if you could guess what I want or need - I will still get frustrated. That isn’t a response to you - it is a response to my own limitations. Self Portrait: Pain swirled around her like the fine, clingy gossamer threads of a spiders’ web. Occasionally brushing against her, then sticking to her over-sensitised skin. Frustrating to pinpoint and near impossible to grasp and remove. She found herself constantly twitching, squirming or brushing her hands against what appeared to be phantom tickles and irritations. As the bus driver stomped on the brake, yet again, she paled. Her left hip felt shattered, eradicating the spiders’ web in a surge of ice-cold burning agony. Her breath caught and the mask slipped and pain registered for just one moment. She fought to remain calm as a knife buried to the hilt, smashing the breath out of her in a whoosh! Tiny beads of sweat appeared on her waxy face as she drew in a slow shaky breath. It was not lost on her that to some she probably appeared as insane as she felt. Her response to these sensations was often almost impossible to disguise. But, she hid them as much as she could. Surreptitiously she tugged her mask back into place, stoic in her determination to appear normal.

I'm also not me...

2015-05-26T12:15:00.000+12:00

Good health is something we all take for granted, or is it? I have been reflecting on this for a couple of weeks now. Maybe this is because of my own physical health or being of an age that is more exposed to the vulnerability (either in ourselves or elders). Whatever the reason, I have realised that many of us live with “something” that challenges us in a physical way.

I am not talking about the “normal” scope of age-related ailments. We all expect to be less able as we get older. Less able is one thing and unable is another. I recently watched “You’re Not You” a movie starring Hillary Swank as a concert pianist who is struck with ALS and much like “Still Alice” this movie left me a blithering blob. Living in an age of acute awareness of incurable illnesses such as Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, ALS, CPS, Cancer or even something that still, somehow, remains undiagnosed - whatever it is, it is not fair.

Any one of us would agree that when these ailments are “early onset” or strike the very young, that is even more unfair. As parents we would all happily trade places with our children if we could.

Indeed: Life. Is. Not. Fair!

Over the course of my journey I have realised that no matter what your circumstance is you really don’t have to look very far to find another poor soul who has it worse. I can recall the first time I had this epiphany with absolute clarity.

My daughter had just had 6 hour spine surgery and she and another child (both 14 years old) had just been returned to high care from surgical recovery. I was beside myself from a day spent in absolute hell and I must have worn this on my face with every stressed wrinkle. The boy was put into the ward next door and we the parents had been asked to step outside while the nurses and doctors were getting our babies settled. This mother looked at me with an expression that mirrored my own and asked what procedure my child had had. I replied that she had endured major spine surgery and returned the question to her. She replied that her son had major surgery to his leg (I remember thinking oh, a leg is not as bad as a spine). After meeting and talking a couple more times I learned that not only did this boy have “leg surgery” but had endured Chemo, his own leg had been amputated and a new leg had been transplanted due to bone cancer. I was humbled when I realised that assuming that my daughter was worse off was not only petty and pathetic but also completely untrue. Shame washed over me and in that moment I was incredibly grateful that all she had was spine surgery.

Perspective changes everything.

I wish that we could share our stories and experiences in such a way that it is not a pity party about what we suffer, nor is it a problem that you are expected to provide a solution for, but rather a call for understanding and celebration of that of which we do not suffer. To feel real empathy for our fellow travellers and to show true kindness is not always easy.

If we can try to remember that there is no possible way for any of us to truly feel what someone else feels yet still care for them and about them, then maybe we can reply, “No, life isn't fair, but it’s a journey that we can share.”

Still thinking...

2015-04-22T15:46:00.001+12:00

Just finished reading "Still Alice" by Lisa Genova: This story has been made into a movie and actress Julianne Moore received both an Oscar and a Golden Globe. I have yet to see the movie but now (after reading the book) I am very keen to! It is an emotional read and I laughed and cried along, maybe more than most. I was able to draw parallels that a perfectly healthy person probably cannot.

While my mind is probably okay (I hope!) my body is failing me and I share the fears that we read about. I am genuinely afraid that one day I won't be able to do things for myself and that I will become a burden on my loved ones. Like Alice, I have also formulated my own exit strategy so that I can leave this world with dignity. And... even more like Alice, I am afraid I will leave it too late!

Alice had five questions that if she was not able to answer, would lead her to instructions on what to do next. I have no such a plan - not yet. But, I have had the discussion with both my husband and children that if I was at a point where my quality of life was less than that of a beloved old pet with hip-dysplasia, they are 100% clear on my wishes.

My heart broke for Alice and I understood her frustration as clearly as if it was my own. I think the story even made me feel grateful (for the first time in a long time) that my failures are mostly physical. I am still far from incapacitated and still independent and mostly functional but I have that vague awareness that this will not always be the case and at times even have a week or two to "practice being useless" when I have a bad flare.

I might even be inspired to write my own story, in as much as it would be based on a woman living with CPS and other largely unheard of invisible pain conditions.

Having just come out the other end of yet another unsuccessful intervention (TFI) that left me worse off for over a week and then back to my unpleasant normal self I think that I might have enough material to actually get started on something more important than this little blog with it's little, but well loved, audience.

First I have a bit of a "TO DO" list, but after that, I will give this some more thought.

Whats your theme song?

2015-03-17T15:24:00.001+13:00

Have you ever considered what music/songs resonate with you at which times in your life? I recently had an epiphany on the way to work - my playlist could tell you my life story. Think about it. Right now, what is your favourite song and why?

It’s not essential that every song you like is one that means something (sometimes it can just be a really great beat or vocal) but you will find that the ones that stick, really stick -mean something to you. I have made no secret of the fact that I suffer with Central pain syndrome (a neurological condition caused by damage or malfunction in the Central Nervous System (CNS) which causes a sensitization of the pain system. The extent of pain and the areas affected are related to the cause of the injury, which in my case was my lower back). Anyway... this means that pain and feelings of frustration and helplessness play a big part in my life. So my playlist has songs that echo this theme...

From my playlist:
Carry you home - James Blunt
Comfortably numb - Pink Floyd
Even my dad does sometimes – Ed Sheeran
Fix You - Coldplay
Gimme some love - James Blunt
Gone, Gone, Gone - Phillip Phillips
Heal Over- KT Tunstall
Listen to the Man - George Ezra
One Day - Opshop
Some Nights (Intro) - Fun
Sometimes you can't make it on your own - U2
Sun on Sunday - James Blunt
Unwell - Matchbox 20

You get the idea right? These songs tell you a bit about how I feel, some reassure me or make me smile and others are just good places to wallow in my misery – which is healthy...

Either way, they mean something to me. Make no mistake there are definitely other songs that resonate with many other aspects of my life. I have love songs that mean something to my relationships and my marriage, I have songs that echo how I feel about my parents, my kids, and even my job. Music, like poetry and literature, is a vital part of my method – I use these marvellous tools to process my experiences. They are a form of meditation, relaxation and above all catharsis.

As life’s seasons turn, find a way to process your reality and move ever forward on your journey.

2015, let the games begin!

2015-02-20T15:17:00.003+13:00

Before this year gets away from me altogether I thought I had better provide you with an update. Last year ended with some good and some bad as they usually tend to. We were delighted to have Nana Lady (Haydn’s mom) with us for 3 months which seemed like a long time until the last week or two which just went unbearably fast! We have also had a flying visit from Gary and Henriette and it was great to have a catch up with that side of the family too – wish more of you could make the long and expensive trek to visit but of course we are all yet to find that blasted money tree!

This year has some big milestone events… Haydn and I will celebrate 20 years of marriage in April and on the same day my darling Tyler will turn 10 years old, (swallows a thorny lump of sadness as she is brutally aware that the last time she laid eyes on him in real life he was still crawling) and my folks will celebrate 50 years of Golden wedded bliss later this year.

Bang, bang, bang on the door, baby bang, bang!

I am afraid that I am still banging on the same old door as last year and so I am sharing a message to the Auckland Property Market and those involved…

There are many of us who are trapped in the rental market because of the ever increasing price explosion and the lending rate 20% deposit rule. I have so much to say about this but first let me say that there are many reasons that people cannot buy in this region and we should all have a voice!

Ours is pretty basic: due to circumstances beyond our control my partner and I who earn a little over $180,000 per year – before tax; who have Kiwisaver; own our cars outright; have practically no debt and $35,000 in the bank are not able to buy our own home! Why? We earn too much to qualify for any special schemes but we don’t have enough for a 20% deposit!

Firstly to the Reserve Bank of NZ:

Your LVR does not fix/help/save anyone, the only people it is hurting are the poor buggers who are trying to buy their own house. You say that this is to help those who are vulnerable to an economic or financial shock. I can see the reasoning however, you should be looking at how you can address the over inflated housing costs! Your actions are basically as effective as giving a birth control pill to a man.

You throw first home buyers a bone and say that they can have special treatment under the Housing NZ Welcome Home Loan scheme but in Auckland you can only borrow up to $436,500.00 (average house price is $697,454 with the North Shore being at $730,112) AND there are income caps- so sorry if you and your partner have a joint income of more than $120,000, you’re out! Ahh you say… you can also use your Kiwisaver fund – but there is an income cap on that too!

Okay, you say again... then buy a new build and qualify for as little as a 5% deposit - well that's just great, except the cheapest new build is $750,000! What if we don't want to spend that much?

Right now those buying are either investing or financing offshore and then renting these houses out (at the cost of a mortgage repayment) to tax paying New Zealanders. We basically pay their mortgages for them and are forced to live by their rules and be subjected to inspections every 3 months! Instead of making it impossible for us, why not rule that you have to be a permanent resident of NZ to buy property or that investors be subjected to capital gains tax? That might cool things off a bit, and help the so-called vulnerable - don’t you think?

Secondly, to all Landlords and their agents:

Believe it or not folks, not every tenant should be featured on “Renters” – there are actually some of us who look after a house even better than we would if it was our own because we would like our deposit back when we leave AND we are not *filthy pigs! Furthermore, the fact that a person has a pet should be irrelevant – you should rather do a proper reference check and find out if the pet has ever damaged/destroyed/caused the applicant to fail an inspection or lose a deposit. If you search the internet you will find that as a rule, people who have pets are well-adjusted and responsible. We are so freaking tired of being treated like lesser humans just because we have a dog.

NEWSFLASH many of the houses that say “no pets” are not fit for my pet and her family to live in, because we are NOT *filthy pigs! I have seen my fair share of homes of people who have no pets, but live in nasty messy houses that indeed would be offered a tenancy before us! Likewise there are some pet owners who don’t take reasonable care of their homes or their pets but come-on, please don’t paint every tenant with the same brush – DO YOUR HOMEWORK!

Ironically one of the main reasons we want to own our own home, is so that we can have another dog!

Finally, to anyone who buys a house in Auckland at these ridiculous prices:

While naturally I am a little jealous, I would also like to say that either you are very rich or slightly not right in the head. If you buy at these over-inflated prices you are telling everyone that these prices are okay. They are NOT okay! They are insane! A basic weatherboard 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom house of about 110m²on a 600m² section should not cost more than $450 000 – surely?

Stop buying and price will have to drop. Who’s with me?

* I of course, mean no disrespect to the humble pig, only that the analogy sufficiently communicates my frustration.

http://www.rbnz.govt.nz/financial_stability/macro-prudential_policy/5406365.pdf;

http://www.welcomehomeloan.co.nz/key_facts.php;

http://www.kiwisaver.govt.nz/new/benefits/home-sub/

Suck it up Babycakes!

2014-11-20T15:31:00.001+13:00

Hey, are you awake? I can’t sleep again. Must be worry – I am trying not to… but, since I am not asleep - I guess it isn’t working. I feel like hiding under the bed but rationality keeps reminding me to face my fears.

I found some lumps - painful and insidious - running along my ribcage… and this, coupled with crippling painful, crushing sensations have forced me to seek medical advice.

Sitting across from yet another Specialist, (who is looking at me like I’m a 3D puzzle) I can’t help feeling like I have sung this song too many times before. The song sheet is worn and wrinkled from use, the folds along the spine are worst of all. Centralised Pain? Central Sensitization? Chronic pain, fibromyalgia, nerve damage, surgeries, treatments, physio, shrinks… the list goes on and on, an exhaustive medical concordance.

As soon as I mentioned the lumps, he threw the big C out there - a curve ball that has since chipped away at my sleep and my sanity. More tests and scans. I fear the worst – who wouldn't? Today was the day that I would find out if they’re tumors. Google can be such a curse when you are impatient for results! Nothing good ever came out of Google when you type in symptoms and tests!

For the second time in two weeks I walk into his room resignation etched into my very soul. I am expecting a resolution of some kind, I have prepared myself for the worst. The man who did the scan told me that he saw inflammation in my sternum, so I am expecting… something. He looks at me, takes a breath and begins to speak, “Tracy, I am pleased to tell you that the scan came back normal. Normal for you, that is, a bit of inflammation and arthritis, but nothing that would be an obvious cause for the lumps or for the pain that you are experiencing… certainly nothing in the bone anyway…” White noise. He rambled on for a bit as relief spread like a balm. No cancer, no tumours… Once this had sunk in I made a sincere effort to pay attention again to what he was saying.

No news is good news, but no news also means no answers, no plan and no idea what is causing this. Can I behave like a petulant child for just a moment?

Why can things never just be simple? Why could it not just be: we can see that this is the problem, this is the way we treat/fix this problem and so there is a simple solution. You may now get on with your life. Is that unreasonable? Inside Babycakes stamps her feet and screams in absolute frustration! No reason? Refer me back to where I have come from? Nothing you can do? Waaah! Sniff, snort, sob.

SUCK IT UP BABYCAKES!

So here I am, another week has passed and I am still no closer to an answer. I still find myself in agony every day – it’s just the depth that varies. Does this mean that there is no answer? Should I simply accept my lot and get on with it?

Then the voice of my inner shrink comes out: “You have the only answer you're gonna get, you have central pain syndrome which is real and causes real problems like allodynia and hyperalgesia and that, is ALL it is”.

THAT IS ALL BABYCAKES!

When I need a really good talking to there is only one person who I will really listen to... ME.

So Babycakes pulled on her big girl panties, sucked it up and moved on…

But she still isn't thrilled about it!

No pets, no smokers...

2014-09-30T14:45:00.002+13:00

There are many challenges to living in Auckland’s North Shore. Housing prices are exorbitant and the current lending rules that you must have a 20% deposit are not possible for the average family. This and the fact that we lost a significant amount of money on our Palmerston North house sale mean that we are forced to rent.

This brings me to my latest bugbear, practically every decent house that is for rent has a stipulation that says, “no dogs, no smokers”. This drives me INSANE!!! My house is cleaner and tidier than about 70% of the rentals that we look at. I think that it is incredibly unfair that owners/landlords can make such a stipulation without even doing a reference to see if you are a good tenant or not.

Surely it counts that we have always been thanked and commended at every inspection, that we have never missed or been late with a payment and that we have improved practically every property that we have lived in, at our own expense. Why is it that having a dog is seen as a negative? My dog is unmistakably less of a problem to have in the house than most children! This is not to say that this should become a rental stipulation, but it is just as ridiculous!

Another absolute blood-boiler is when ad’s read “cat ok, no dogs”. WTF have you ever smelled cat pee? Wowzers! Have you ever seen what cats can do to curtains, drywall and carpet? Again, this is not to upset my feline friendlies because cats are great pets, if you are not allergic to them. However, I don’t quite get what makes a cat a better tenant than a dog? Can anyone explain that to me?

It can’t possibly have anything to do with cleanliness, my dog is bathed regularly (and I don’t mean licking herself) she is non-shedding and perfectly domesticated. Nope, my dog is clean as! Also, my dog goes outside to do her business – there is no smelly litter box in my house.

Picking up the poop in the garden? Duh, we also use it and prefer not to have to dodge the landmines, so yes, we pick it up!

No pet stains or hair either – I have not heard of a non-shedding cat? Except for maybe the hairless ones.

My dog has never brought a dead rat into the house as a "special gift".

It can’t have anything to do with barking or noise because the landlord would not be affected by this. Aside from the fact that my dog only barks when there is action. Also, have you ever heard a cat fight in the middle of the night? Nah, it can’t be the noise.
Is it the idea of fleas and worms? Uh-hum, cats can get those too and because our dog is an inside princess she has regular flea treatments and is de-wormed 3 times a year as recommended by our vet. This has NEVER been a problem in our home.

So what is it? What on earth makes a dog a bad tenant? Can someone please explain? Come on Auckland landlords wake up and smell the money – not all dog owners could/would/should appear on “Renters”. Just once I would like that stupid show to show the great tenants and celebrate the fact that we also exist (even when we have a dog in our family).

Here are a few facts about dog owners easily found on the internet…

Dogs are a great source of social and emotional support for everyone.
Dog owners have great self-esteem, are more physically fit, less lonely, more conscientious and friendly.
Dog owners are less likely to suffer from depression than those without pets.
A study showed that people with dogs often experience the greatest health benefits.
Not only do children who grow up with pets have less risk of allergies and asthma, many also learn responsibility, compassion, and empathy from having pets.

“Some landlords believe pets cause damage to their property and furnishings. However, often the reality is that pets are no trouble and are in fact, a signal that the tenant is committed to making the property a home. Turning down tenants with pets may mean that landlords are not only forgoing good tenants, but losing out on longer lets."

"It makes me wonder how many pets get dumped because their owners can't find a place to live."

References
http://www.independent.co.uk/property/why-pet-owners-make-good-tenants-9275232.html
http://www.fetchmag.co.nz/ARTICLES/TRAINING++SKILLS/Renting+with+dogs.html
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/aucklander/news/article.cfm?c_id=1503378&objectid=10991758
http://www.helpguide.org/life/pets.htm
http://news.distractify.com/geek/science/reasons-you-absolutely-need-a-dog-in-your-life/

Parenting Teenage Girls in the New Milleniuim

2014-08-27T15:37:00.005+12:00

"It is really difficult to parent teenagers these days!"

I am pretty sure that every generation of parents has made the following statement about every generation of children, but does this statement become more true for each generation? I think it might.

My parents were born in the 1940's, WWII, in the first half of the decade, followed by the Cold War and the post war boom which lasted well into the 1970's. The first computer was built and so was the first atomic bomb (ouch!) along with radar, ballistic missiles, jet aircraft, the Jeep, the commercial television, the slinky, the microwave oven, Velcro, Tupperware and the frisbee! I am sure parents of children born in the 1940's were concerned about what the future held for their rock 'n roll, hip gyrating, Elvis Presley and Beetle loving children's souls!

I was born in the 1970's when man first walked on the moon, the first face lifts were attempted and the first MRI image was published, this was the worst economic decade since the great depression. Nelson Mandela was already in jail and Maggie Thatcher was the first woman Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. I grew up with TV games and video machines, tape decks, pocket calculators and the ingenious walkman! You were super cool if you had a cordless phone or an answering machine and smoking was unrestricted in public places and was even admired.

My first child was born in 1998, we had dial-up internet and many homes had personal computers with an amazing 16MB capacity! Apartheid had ended and Nelson Mandela was not only a free man but the President. Cell phones were widely used and e-commerce began to build. Digital cameras were commercially available and Apple introduced the iMac Computer. CD's had taken over from cassette tapes and computers came standard with a CD burner. The DVD format was introduced and pagers were widely popular.

My second child was born in 2000 - a millennium baby! A time for massive growth of the internet, 9/11 and the war on terror and later in this decade, the Global Financial Crisis. The first robot landed on Mars, space tourism began, broadband accelerated the internet and Facebook took over the world, along with smart phones and YouTube. These kids live their lives online and cannot comprehend a world without instant gratification.

It is scary parenting now. We have to protect our children from and educate them about the whole world-wide-web of information. There is nothing that they cannot find on Google and books are becoming obsolete, along with asking your parents for information. Today a good figure is all about the thigh gap and how short/tight/sexy your clothes are, is your hair and make-up okay for school? What does the future hold? As a mother of girls this can be a terrifying concept!

This week I watched the Video Music Awards with my daughters, I was really astounded by the tiny pieces of cloth these singers were clad in as well as the degree of sexuality that was displayed on stage. I wonder what my grandparents would think? Soft-porn was the description that sprung to my mind. I am not a prude and I believe that a woman is a sexual being and should be able to celebrate her sexuality as much as her male counterparts but watching the men perform, was not nearly as lewd. I recall last year when Mylie's twerking was all anyone could talk about (now most female artists are wearing what is essentially underwear and even dry humping their own hands on stage, etc).

What is happening? Why was there so much hype about Robin Thicke's "Good Girls" - because he dared to degrade and undermine women; where now they seem to be doing a pretty good job of that all by themselves. I was proud of NZ's own Lorde who walked out in her modest pants suit and showed that talent does not require near nakedness but wonder if there could not be a healthy balance please? Come on celebrities! You are setting a standard for what is acceptable for our teenagers to emulate and you all look like skanky ho's - shame on you! Everyone was raving about Beyonce's performance - she is an entertainer and a talented singer but her latest album is, in my opinion self-indulgent crap. Her performance was polished but rather than being called a display of feminism I am old fashioned enough to say it was overly suggestive, left nothing to the imagination and that I would be embarrassed if my children saw me moving around like that for the world to see, and not just because I am fat ;-)

Go to http://time.com/3169492/vmas-2014-recap-best-moments-highlights/ to see what I mean, although they all thought it was great?

Colby Callait made a fabulous video, TRY to show our girls that it is okay to just be yourself - sadly she was not featured at the VMA's. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXoZLPSw8U8

So far I know that by the time my children are adults people will be living on Mars. Maybe wonderful things will happen, perhaps a cure/vaccine for cancer, or maybe doctors will learn more about the nervous system and how to manage pain. I have no doubt that my girls will be wonderful and successful adults but the rest, at this stage, is really unpredictable and that is scary for a parent. I know the challenges that each generation face are unique but looking at how fast things are changing now what will that future look like?

I will have challenges of my own, e.g. Will I feel unable and/or unwilling to keep up with technology.

Oh well, que sera and hold thumbs!

Bonhomie

2014-06-20T10:02:00.000+12:00

Hello sports fans! It has been some time since I have had time to write - let's just say that things have been pretty hectic! I will give you a quick run down... Mom is still not well, kids are so busy, Megan with a huge Media Assignment and Jenna with Netball and Stage Challenge, I have begun my studies towards a Graduate Certificate in Tertiary Education Management and Haydn is almost finished his studies in BAP (or something :p). Anyhoo - needless to say this makes for a very busy household.

There have been some milestones and note worthy's and so here is the brief update on all things NZ Skolmen Family:

Most significant update is that my Jenna-bee went for her second spine assessment and the news was great! Her curve has only accelerated 3 degrees in 6 months! For those of you that don't know what that means - if it continues at this rate she will probably not need surgery like her sister did. (To put this in perspective Megan curve accelerated 7 degrees in 3 months). So we are as pleased as parents can be.

We have had a fortnight of medical madness from chiropractors to Starship spine specialists, to dermatologists to optometrists to blood tests and back to GP's but so far all seems to be pretty good.

I have gone to two rugby games with Haydn and I even enjoyed them! These were Junior World Cup Games at our local stadium in Albany which is all of 4.2 kms from home. Both were SA games, first against Scotland and second against my very own NZ All Blacks. (Every single SA man reading this just grunted!) I am first and foremost an All Black supporter because this is my home now and I know the players as they are always on our screens. However, when it is and NZ vs. SA game I am quite honestly a neutral supporter - for me either way is a win! Obviously if SA is playing anyone else then I will be rooting for them. In all honesty, I am not really a sports fan and so my allegiances should not really mean... anything.

We also finally bought a new lounge suite (sold our old one on TradeMe for $1 - hey is was really old). Our new couches look great - like big puffy marshmallows of comfiness, although I think we are all still getting used to having something brand spanking new in our lounge and the poor dogs (Yes we still have Gracie) just don't understand why we keep yelling at them to stay off the furniture.

We have had two really note worthy winter storms the first blew yachts onto dry land or rocks from the Auckland harbor, gales ripped roofs off houses and downed trees and power lines all over. Roads had to be closed as the ocean crashed onto beach roads and many were left without power and hot water for days. The second storm was not nearly as bad but drowned our home phone line - which has forced our girls learn to survive without WiFi (which is a basic human right - in case you did not know). Hopefully a wet and windy, cold winter will bring a warm and sunny summer.

My word in the wilderness is bonhomie - I have been told that I exude a spirit of bonhomie, so I have added this to my lexicon. Bonhomie: If you are known for your bonhomie, that's a good thing. It means that you are a cheerful friendly sort of person. Keep it up.

We should be bonhomies yo!

It's ok to be sappy - I've had 19 years of happy!

2014-04-30T10:52:00.003+12:00

I am proud to say that yesterday was my 19th Wedding Anniversary, in today's world I believe that's a pretty fantastic achievement - especially when you consider that we dated for 6 years before that! Sadly, not everyone is as lucky as we are, but I do believe that there is a special someone out there that is meant just for you.

Some people stay together for all the wrong reasons: convenience, fear, money, status and even to avoid gossip. Staying together "for the kids" = knotty grounds indeed. Having met some of these "kids" I would have to say that, in many cases, they wished that their parents had not stayed together.

Of course, it is rough on kids when parents get divorced, but in many cases - it is even worse if they are living and learning from a loveless marriage. Fighting, abuse, sarcasm, infidelity or even just plain apathy do not set the tone for these children to believe or put any faith at all into marriage as an institution.

Haydn and I have always teased about the "renewal of our annual contract" around anniversary time. This is a light banter for us but I think it is probably not a bad idea to look at your relationship/marriage in this way.

Consider that if you had to meet with your spouse/partner for an annual review, held to decide whether you would continue your relationship, would this alter your conduct? Would this make you take less for granted and really appreciate one another? Think about it? When last did you just thank or compliment your person for something mundane? Or just randomly gone up to said person and looked them deep in the soul and told them that you really love them?

Before we married Haydn and I agreed on the "unacceptables" and the "unconditionals" - any form of abuse would not be tolerated and absolute fidelity was always going to be an unconditional. We have always agreed that if either one of us fell out of love we would be honest and end our contract. Love is the cornerstone, trust and mutual respect is the edifice and coitus, the pleasurable upshot. Really, if any of these are lacking it's time to remediate with immediate effect (you know what I'm saying).

Of course marriage is hard work - everything worth doing has its challenges but the rewards should always outweigh the hardships. ALWAYS! It's the same with having kids. Hardwork - but the payoff can be fantastic.

Last night, for the very first time, we invited out daughters to join us for our anniversary dinner. We went to the Orbit 360 which is the revolving restaurant in the Auckland city Sky Tower. This is the first time that my girls have been exposed to fine dining and I am thrilled to say we had a wonderful time. It is nights like this that make me feel completely overjoyed.

I wish everyone this kind of happiness.

Once again Matchbox Twenty has the soundtrack to my life covered: Overjoyed (play me)

The Trouble with Tracy...

2014-03-07T12:00:00.000+13:00

There are so many ways to finish this sentence, where to begin?

The trouble with Tracy is that she has no filter.
The trouble with Tracy is that she has no shame.
The trouble with Tracy is that she lives with central pain syndrome.
The trouble with Tracy is that she has OCD when it comes to her housekeeping.
The trouble with Tracy is that she can be a bit sensitive.
The trouble with Tracy is that she can't say no.
The trouble with Tracy is that she reads too much.
The trouble with Tracy is that she watches too much TV.
The trouble with Tracy is that she is too open with her kids.
The trouble with Tracy is that her family is her whole world! (Everyone, everywhere)
The trouble with Tracy is that she is clumsy.
The trouble with Tracy is that she loves her husband to distraction.
The trouble with Tracy is that she has a warped sense of humor.
The trouble with Tracy is that she has childlike faith.
The trouble with Tracy is that she is always away with the faeries.
The trouble with Tracy is that she never gives up.
The trouble with Tracy is that she has anorexia reversa (looks in the mirror and thinks she looks great - haha haa!)

Yes, there are many things that can be said about me, some good and some, well... not so good. However, the truth about Tracy is that I am a forty year old woman who is trapped in a very inconveniently flawed body, my self esteem is pretty average, but my attitude is is pretty great. Hey, I am doing the best I can with what I've got!

There are many reasons for me being the way I am and choosing the life that I live - too many to get into.

I would encourage any and all readers of this blog to consider that making a judgement on my life or anyone else is distasteful. Always remember that you do no know what battles they are fighting.

Happy New Year and welcome to 2014

2014-01-06T15:14:00.003+13:00

Another year has drifted by like a little boat bobbing along in the current. At times the water was smooth as glass and our objectives were as clear as a mountain stream. Other days it felt like we were being dragged out into open water and had no choice but to go with the flow. There were also moments when we paddled frantically against the current, or found ourselves desperately scooping water out, so that it did not sink. Yes, 2013 was a busy year indeed.

It is very gratifying to have achieved most of the goals set out for 2013 and our outlook for this year is pretty good. My baby starts high school and I enter the next decade of my existence here on this lovely planet. It is also the time of year where we miss our family and friends back home and wish we could just pop in for a visit and give you all a big old hug!

I have just completed a book called "We need new names" by NoViolet Bulawayo, shortlisted for the Man Booker prize. This story resonated with me as an expat who immigrated to find a "better life". Like the book character, Darling I also feel like leaving your country for another leaves you with no country at all.

Now that I am exposed to life in a first world country, I cannot go back to South Africa because I now understand how life is supposed to be. But I am still a South African in my heart and so I will never feel completely at home in New Zealand. I miss my friends and family very, very much, but I love the "way of life" here. There is no way to balance the scale and so I live in a state of "checkmate".

The only way to endure the loss is to avoid thinking about it too much. The only compensation is that my children do feel at home here and will have the advantages that this life offers. Knowing what we know now we may not have left SA but seeing how things should be we also can't go back.

I was reminded why we did this last Saturday night while we were watching a DVD with family. (To paint the picture we live across from a park that leads into a small native bush reserve, the front of our property is open to the street, we have no security gates, or bars of any kind - it is hot and humid and so everything is open). My sister-in-all (deliberate not a typo) said, "Imagine what people back home would say to this, here we sit at 11pm on a Saturday night, with all the doors (kitchen, front and sliding) wide open!"

To which my daughter's puzzled reply was, "What's wrong with that?"

"That is why we live here" I replied. We then had to explain this to our girls as they really did not see what the big deal was.

So that is one of the reasons why we live here. But it doesn't take away the yearning for home that is made so much worse at this time of year. We find ourselves really missing everyone: Christmas was a party of 9, and our birthdays are coming up with so few to share in our special days, they become lonely times. Just a decade ago we where spoiled for choice with people to see and places to go and now we are pretty insular.

Okay, enough of the sad violin music! 2014, right, sorry I will get back on track...

So as with every new year we have things we hope to accomplish and goals we aspire to achieve. There is something magical about the fresh start we give ourselves at the turning of each year and THIS IS IT. We will only live this year once and so let's all give it our best and meet back here is 12 months time to revisit the whole shebang!

I wish you all a fantastic 2014 and hope that you are all able to cross-off some of your own resolutions.

Goodbye Madiba, thank you.

2013-12-11T15:30:00.000+13:00

It is with great sadness that I have watched the slow demise of Nelson Mandela, the Gandhi of my generation. A man who is so very clearly loved and admired by the world at large. This is evident in the incredible list of people who attended his memorial in South Africa last night. I am proud to have lived in his time, for being a part of his history when at age 18, the very first vote I was able to cast was for his freedom. I have shared his love of Africa and her people.

It was a very sad day when he stepped down as President and slowly crime stepped up to the point that I felt I had to leave my motherland to protect my children and give them a brighter future. I feared that South Africa would end up like Zimbabwe and I think I lost all hope in her people.

My heart became very heavy when his death was announced a few days ago. First I was afraid, thinking that this would be the end of peace and forgiveness in South Africa. Then I was relieved, instead of making things worse it appears to have made things better again for our rainbow nation.

His legacy will endure in history for all time. Madiba will walk the halls of immortality with the likes of Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln, Mother Theresa and Mahatma Gandhi. Nelson Mandela is the quintessential example of everything Africa's people should be. There is no way to escape the past but Madiba did not dwell on this, he forgave and moved forward. There is no way to undo the past, but we have learned an invaluable lesson. He is our greatest teacher. His humility and grace inspired me. What a man, what a light to the world.

It is both heart-warming and wonderful for me to see my beloved homeland stand together and unite in a celebration of the life of our "father" of the new South Africa. The loss of this legend feels personal to me and I am ripped and torn with desire to return to my home and grieve/celebrate with my nation.

My only prayer for South Africa now is that his example can brighten the future and that Africa's people will remember his example and emulate his wisdom and honour. I pray that all South Africans will show the world that all is not lost. Stop the crime, poverty and corruption, unite and stand proud, together as he would have hoped. Give Madiba a legacy that shows the cynics (like me) that Africa can still be a success story.

Goodbye grandfather, your have earned your rest God Bless Africa, ngiyabonga inkosi kakhulu.

The winds of change...

2013-12-11T14:32:00.000+13:00

Please click here call it: setting the mood :-)

Well, we it is a month since we moved and we are comfortably settled into our new little house and I love it! We are back down to just the four of us after 4 years of sharing and we are settling into a new rhythm.

As a woman, wife, mother and daughter who is just about "middle-aged" (yes, dammit I said it) it has been a stressful time all round.

I have teenagers who can flit from horrid potty-mouthed monsters; to loopy - totally nuts and bolts; to sweet angels; all in a matter of seconds. Combine ageing parents who are slowly becoming less able. Then top that off with a husband who, like myself, is coming to terms with being the Sandwich Generation and a wife that has her first career job (since giving birth 13years ago) and you have the hot, hot mess that is my everyday life.

The "sandwich generation" is a wonderful term for the time in your life where you are responsible for both the generation that you have spawned (in my case, teenage girls) and the older generation - that spawned you (self-explanatory). If you are nodding your head then this means you are banging around on the same boat. I know and I understand where you are.

I find that I am more able to switch off to my girls because I know that their raging hormones have eradicated rational thought and action processes and I know that things will get better. Eventually... All the books say so! Really! And... in all honesty they are no that bad - if only they would keep their rooms tidy and help a bit more in the house (where have I heard that before?).

Not so easy with our older folk. It is really difficult coming to terms with parents - who have always seemed so immortal and mighty - becoming anything less. Until recently ageing was a romantic notion that was only reflected in the eyes of our great-grandparents and then our grandparents, who were always "so old", it seemed normal. It does not feel the same when your own parents - who you always used to go to for help - are now coming to you.

Having said that, I love and appreciate both sides of my sandwich, they are both wonderful in their own ways - but sometimes it is hard being the meat!

Moving on to my next issue:
Why is it that I, as a wife and mother, cannot shake the guilt or feel attacked every time my work etches into my family time. Men don't seem to share this affliction, its work and its gotta be done. So why do I feel guilty? I have taken a back seat for most of my life, I worked within school hours for 11 years, doing a job that would not really challenge me or advance my career, never once regretting my choice. So why is it that now I feel guilty for every work function? Yes, granted, at this time of year there have been a lot!

But I still don't really get it...
I have accepted my husband's work and even sport commitments that have taken him away from "Family Time". I don't really recall ever being sulky about it, so why am I faced with sulking about my work commitments?

I have been working at and planning for this conference since May and finally, by Wednesday next week it will all be over! My reward is being at all the dinners and attending the trip to Waiheke Island - which is nice, but I still feel guilty about the personal time that it eats into.

Ho hum... First World problems!

Next:
So Christmas is swiftly approaching and I am proud to say that I have managed to keep my blog up for almost 2 years, with a post every month - not too bad. I have also written a short story which I have self-published as an Ebook and have started on a novel (although I have had writers block for about 4 months). Still I am quite pleased with what I have managed, my next blog will most likly be about new goals. Have a great Christmas Everyone!

Busy, busy!

2013-11-01T09:18:00.003+13:00

I have not written for some time now and thought I had better make my apologies.

The great news is that we finally sold our house in Palmy - 6 years after we left for Auckland, sure we lost $25k but at least now we can buy where we live! As a celebration for our patience we finally went on our first holiday in over 5 years to the Gold Coast, Australia. All four of us were very excited - like kids at Christmas! It was wonderful to get away from reality and just laze around a pool and be real tourists. We went to 3 of the theme parks and the Currumbin Animal Sanctuary - which was a stand out favorite for all of us.

As it turns out I am allergic to the place and it made both Haydn and Jenna sick! Yes, this is a bit of hyperbole, but I did break out in hives from about day 3 and they only subsided after we were back home.

Jenna was pulled out of the customs queue as we arrived in Australia because she was battling nausea and looked a bit green. The next day she started with a bit of a cold but was a real soldier and missed nothing! Haydn went done with the cold 4 days later and this turned into a violent bout of man flu and he is still coughing. Meg's greatest complaint was sunburn, but that is what happens when you only tan with baby oil so the lesson was learned.

Since returning to the real world things have become a bit more stressful... We were told we had to be out of our rental by the end of the month (this gave us just over 2 weeks to find a new home). We approached the bank that had given us pre-approval to purchase and discovered that since the new reserve bank rule has been enforced they have withdrawn all pre-appovals. This is just fan-freaking-tasic because now instead of finally being able to buy, we have to rent again!

Sadly this has all sorts of hassles as we have a toy poodle cross shih tsu dog and landlords here appear to think dogs are as bad as smokers. In fact, this is 1 category in rental ads, "no dogs or smokers", what is next, "no children"? Anyway, after 3 weeks of searching as looking at homes that I wouldn't even let my dog live in, we have finally found a place. This is a credit to my perseverance and tenacity as this property was advertised in the "no dogs or smokers" category and I emailed them each week to kindly ask if they would change their minds. Each week I received a "sorry the owner will not accept a dog" reply and each week I thanked them and said, as the house is empty and costing them money, perhaps they would reconsider? Finally I have worked them over and we signed our tenancy agreement yesterday. Now the packing starts and the big move is next Friday.

Since you asked...

2013-08-27T09:30:00.001+12:00

I have entered the New Zealand Pain Service, where an interdisciplinary team is working with me to find some new ways to manage my pain and hopefully improve my quality of life. I am writing this reluctantly as I have been asked to explain my pain and describe what "normal" feels like for me. This is a part of the process and so I figured I could share it on my blog, so that if there are others out there, like me, you will know that you are not alone.

I have lived with pain most of my life. For years I have had differing medical opinions, hypochondria, fibromyalgia, nerve pain, chronic pain, etc. The latest suggestion is that I have CPS.

Central Pain Syndrome

CPS is a neurological condition caused by damage or malfunction in the Central Nervous System (CNS) which causes a sensitization of the pain system. The extent of pain and the areas affected are related to the cause of the injury, which can include mild car accidents, trauma, spinal cord injury, tumors, stroke, Multiple Sclerosis, etc. Pain can either be relegated to a specific part of the body or spread to the entire body.

Central pain syndrome is characterized by a mixture of pain sensations, the most prominent being a constant burning. The steady burning sensation is sometimes increased by light touch. Some people prefer body length heating pads which sometimes help a little. Pain is typically constant, may be moderate to severe in intensity, and is often made worse by touch, movement, emotions, and temperature changes, usually cold temperatures.

Burning pain is the most common sensation, but patients also report pins and needles, pressing, lacerating, aching, and extreme bursts or constant sharp or unremitting excruciating pain. Individuals may have reduced sensitivity to touch in the areas affected by the pain.

I know this all sounds awful but to me this is just a normal day. I don’t like it, I don’t want it but I accept it and get on with it. I shall now take a moment to pontificate, please imagine the violins playing…

Yes, I have pain all the time, it is only the depth that varies… but everyone has a cross to bear and my burden is still lighter than others. I hate to prattle about pain. I prefer not to adumbrate on how it feels or indeed how I feel. There is no point. It is difficult and frustrating to hear someone you love constantly complain about something that you are helpless against.

If you want to show you care, distract me, talk about something else, or simply say, “Hey, can I get you something?” That will suffice. I’ll let you know if I am really having a bad day and if I do, then take me seriously and give me some time and space. I hate to validate my pain, I feel like it gains power if I do.

How it all began…

I have been in the medical system for spine/nerve pain in different forms since I was about 15. I was in a MVA that resulted in severe whiplash; I had torn muscles and damaged tendons. My neck bothered me right through high school and I was often in a hard neck brace.

In my early 20's I fell in a shopping mall; herniated a disc at L3, L4 and ruptured the one below at L4, L5. This was treated conservatively until we decided to start a family. I had spine surgery in 1996, laminectomy and discectomy and managed to have my 2 beautiful girls with acceptable pain, via C-section.

In 2002 I was rear-ended in another MVA and that is when the real trouble began. Pain became my constant companion. I knew it was time to seek help when I looked at my pain killers and wondered how many would stop the pain forever. I have since had a fusion and an additional “maintenance surgery” to replace moving screws.

I was okay from 2005 to 2008 when I fell on the rocks while walking my dog on the beach. Since then structurally there is nothing to be seen, but pain has just been ramping up and medication does not seem to help much, or for long.

Most of the time I feel as though my bones are made of ice. My muscles and tendons are wound too tight and nothing loosens them up. I can’t stand bright light and loud noises. Lately I have pins and needles and a constant burning between by shoulder blades; this is coupled with a horrible sensation that is best described as a mouse running under my skin.

I have debilitating headaches aggravated by bright light. I get irritable and grumpy and need a quiet place to retreat to, heat helps a bit. I ignore my pain until I can't and then I surrender to my bed for a re-charge. Sleep is elusive and when I turnover in bed, my sternum feels like is tearing and splitting apart (can’t hold my ribs together anymore).

I have scalp itch and so seem to scratch my head like a kid with lice. I am aware of it and so try and make it look like a casual gesture... don't think it works. I also have stupid hot flushes (face, neck and chest area) that I cannot control, it really does not mean I am shy or embarrassed. My skin becomes hot to the touch, red and inflamed, this comes and goes without me doing anything and is really frustrating.

I manage to work full time and am determined to stay as healthy and independent for as long as I can. I live for the good days and the things that give me true joy and or purpose. I believe it is easier to smile and wave than lie down and accept defeat!

Transition to being a writer... I feel it now!

2013-07-24T15:51:00.003+12:00

I have been chipping away on my book like a sculptor at a chunk of marble. To say that I am enjoying it immensely, would be an understatement!

I am carving out my characters and molding my themes. Using my artistic license, imagination and creativity but blending it with research and factual information.

It feels surreal to finally be in "the groove" of the storyteller.

Consequently, I have discovered that already one story is not enough! I was struck by another inspiration for a narrative chronicle as I wrote this one.

Unable to stop the words flowing from my fingers like quicksilver and I had to complete this short story. It has taken me ages to get it presentable and I would like to invite you to have a little read...

I will caution you though, this is not a "nice" story, it is a "necessary" story.

It is Sharon's story. A teenage girl who found herself drowning in a situation that she did not expect and could not control. There are adult themes and uncomfortable references that were essential to the telling of this tale.

I am proud to put my name to it and look forward to hearing your feedback.

Click here for a direct link to my first short story "Never Forget!"

Storylines... would you read my book?

2013-05-31T20:47:00.004+12:00

I am cold, the bone-chilling, ache all over kind of cold, that feels like ice in your veins, the chill burning right through to your marrow. I try to move but my frozen body is unresponsive. My eyelids, stiff and scratchy, opened slowly burning against the sharp iridescent light. Why am I here? What the heck is going on? My head pounds as I try to force my brain to work, what is the last thing I remember? I blink as a warm tear slowly slides from my eye, down my cheek and plops onto the cold concrete floor.

It was a crisp winter evening and I had decided to play hooky, skipping drama class, I went straight to the mall. I felt like shopping. The money gran had given me for my birthday was burning a hole in my pocket. I couldn't decide what I wanted but, today I would spend some cash! Maybe new shoes, or a cute skirt, maybe that bright red hair dye that mum had never let me use. Who cares, I have time, I am an independent young woman and for a change, I have money to burn!

Moments later, I bounced along with three shopping bags, my hand chilled from a frozen coke my belly warmed by unhealthy chicken nuggets - yum! I felt like a kid again. It had been so long since I could splurge like this - I might have gone too far. Oh well, toast is a sufficient meal when the coffers are empty, so long as the rent is paid, it'll be sweet, I thought casually.

As I walked out of the mall I was stunned to see that night had fallen and the car park was near vacant. There was a chill in the air and rain had settled in, light as mist. My cute, little, yellow mini cooper waited for me, alone in the hazy dimness. Beyond, the tree line was black as pitch and there were fuzzy pools of light circling the street lamps.

As I walked towards my car I began to get that tingly feeling, like I was being watched. My eyes jumped nervously from one shadow to the next. I readjusted my bags and quickened my step. "Crap, where is everyone!" I muttered to myself. I stopped and looked behind me, nothing. I straightened my shoulders and exhaled a slow deep breath, hoping to slow down my rabbit quick heartbeats. By the time I reached my car, I was in full flight mode. Terror, I am your bitch.

"Stupid, stupid!" I admonished myself as I dropped my shopping into a puddle while I rummaged through my bag looking for my keys. Images of horror movies flashed through my head, "a weapon, I need a weapon, how stupid am I?"

"Ah-ha!" I exclaimed as I found my keys and pressed the unlock button with relief. Grabbing up my wet shopping bags I tossed them into the car, jumped in and locked the doors. "Safe", I told myself, taking a deeper breath to settle my nerves, I started the car and reversed out of my spot.

Cold, I cranked up the heater and pumped up my music. Soon I was back in the zone and feeling stupid for overreacting like such a tart. Safely on my way home, I chuckled to myself, thinking that I was such a chicken, "ha, well I suppose I am a drama queen!" KT was singing about a big black horse and a cherry tree and I playfully tapped the gas to the beat along the unusually quiet road.

My hands were tingling as I slowly wiggled my fingers, I managed to curl myself up a bit but my traitorous body was still very sluggish. I still couldn't remember what was going on but now wide awake, I was aware of all sorts of aches and pains and... cable ties, much too tight around my wrists! "Shit! Focus, what the hell is going on?"

Home was a little cottage in Coatesville, I always wanted to live on a farm but my folks were suburbians, in more ways than one. They were perfectly middle-ish. Mum and Dad had been high school sweethearts, they had married in their twenties, had kids and worked all their lives. Now that we were all grown up; my sister and I that is; the folks had finally taken some time for them and gone on their very first OE.

The wet curvy road glistened in my headlights like a snake, I hated driving this road in the dark, especially when it was wet. Once again I told myself off for choosing to live in the country but my stubborn streak had won out. Me and my dorky ideas! I am not a reckless driver, in fact, the opposite is probably true. If you are familiar with Wright Road you will understand my caution, it is absolutely the wrong road to race on. The twists and turns are edged with bush and gullies that would swallow any car that dared to miss the narrow track. So, it was a shock that, as I turned into the next curve I saw tail lights in the bush. Instinct kicked in and with a screech of brakes I pulled as close to the side of the road as I could and put on my hazard lights. I pulled out my mobile phone and dialed 111, someone has come off the road!

As the number rang I climbed out of the car to see if I could help anyone.

That was all I remembered. As these memories flooded back I felt even more confused and afraid. How did I go from saving the day to helpless victim? Why was my head so sore and above all, what will happen next?

Avoidance

2013-04-19T12:41:00.002+12:00

Avoidance: Web definitions: deliberately avoiding; keeping away from or preventing from happening.

I suppose that at one time or another, we all wish we could stick our head in the sand. Well, I'm past that. I prefer to face things head-on and deal with reality. Sure, sometimes it's rough, emotionally draining and even soul destroying but at least I am dealing with what is real.

I would like to issue you with a challenge. Face up to your life! Face up to what is really going on and deal with it! I am so tired of the "great pretenders" who think that hiding from reality is okay. You know what I think? I think you're chicken, I think that you need to eat a bowl of self-respect, throw in a tablespoon of courage, then, swallow it all down with a glass of maturity.

I am sorry if this sounds harsh, (I guess my own frustration is evident). Something has happened, a life altering event, maybe some bad investment, or an argument that seems to have caused irreparable damage. What rubbish, you can always fix it, just say sorry and make a plan to make things right.

The truth is that the people who matter in your life will always love you - no matter what. Even if you are not on speaking terms, your family will always love you - even when they don't like you. So just be honest and stop hiding from what is. So you've stuffed up? Shocker! We all have at some point. It does not matter. What does matter is what you do about it.

Remember, we lead by example and our children are always watching and learning from us. Do you want to raise a child that takes no ownership or responsibility? I aspire to be as good as I can be and hopefully my children are proud to have me as a parent.

The measure of a person is not taken from his/her mistakes but rather from their actions and sincerity to remedy any transgressions. If you avoid someone for long enough they may not be around when you are ready to make amends. Don't wait, don't hide or avoid. Stand up, front up and make things right while it still matters. You hold the power, do what needs doing (in the living years) or live with the regret.

Are you an ostrich or are you a lion?

I say… “Be the lion!”

The Suburban Mouse and The City Mouse...

2013-04-09T10:02:00.000+12:00

A story of a suburban mouse.

I have worked in the Midwifery Dept. of this University for 5 years and the time has come for me to move on. This was not a planned move, in the sense that I was looking for another job, but rather a bit of a surprise! My very dear friend and colleague saw the job advertised (on the city campus) and encouraged me to apply. So I did, with all the enthusiasm that the job instilled but with the certainty (in my own mind) that this was not really going to happen. The applications closed on the 18th of Feb and I heard nothing. I was a bit relieved and just told myself that I didn't really expect a response anyway.

Then a week later, I was astounded when I received a phone call inviting me to interview. The next Tuesday, I had the interview and the day after that, I had the job. It was all so fast and so unexpected that I was reduced to a blithering blob of tears of pride, excitement, regret and shame, rolled up in a ball of uncertainty. The job offers more scope and a higher salary, but it means that I must leave my comfort zone, friends and travel into the big city!

The poor little suburban mouse is intimidated by the idea of working in the big city! She likes her old running wheel - it is familiar and safe.

My colleague, of course, was the first to know - this was after all her fault! Then I told my boss and the next day my line manager. With each explanation I was overwhelmed with the kindness and support and encouragement that I received. It felt like I was immigrating all over again - an experience that left me wrecked for a few months, back in 2006. I am a Capricorn - I hate change!

I love my team, our students and to be honest, I love being a "know it all" and "go to" person. Giving all of this up for something new felt like the toughest decision in the world. With each "the last" milestone, I have shed a few more tears, feeling all the sillier with each emotional step. If I am so upset, maybe this is the wrong move?

Suburban mouse has forgotten the career goals that she set aside to raise her young. There are no regrets but perhaps she needs to spread her wings -they have been clipped for so long?

I remembered a technique I learned in a workshop. I closed my eyes and imagined my 18 year old self meeting me and talking about my life and choices (she was a tough idealistic cookie who knew nothing of parenting, but had dreams and desires, goals and ambition). After some soul searching the way forward seemed crystal clear.

The the suburban mouse put on her big girl panties and took the first step towards the city.

I have accepted the fact that half my pay rise will go to travel and I have just added an hour to each day for travel time. This is not so bitter a pill to swallow as I have now also reconciled that I have 6 years of career (and financial) growth in this position too.

There is a part of me that feels a bit guilty, that this job means less time with my kids. Maybe I am being a bit selfish, yet I feel proud and a little stubborn that it is "my turn" I have waited 14 years to further my career. Overall, I have stunning daughters, a supportive husband and a fantastic home support structure. My girls are fabulous young ladies who are quite capable of looking after themselves and doing the right thing.

Sure, I will have new challenges and a very steep learning curve but I am not afraid.

No... I am excited!

Brace yourself.

2013-03-04T09:44:00.002+13:00

Speaking of my parents' transition into the Golden Years has led to some reflection on days gone by. I have many stories to tell: some really funny, others not so much.

In 1996, I was told that I needed spine surgery. After the initial shock and dismay, I accepted this as the only way forward. Little did I know that this would result in one of the most embarrassing moments in my life.

Picture a reasonably well-turned out, newly wed young woman, facing spine surgery at 22. I am told, by my surgeon, to go to an Orthotist in Rosebank where they will "custom make" an orthopedic brace that I will need to wear after the surgery. "Sure, fine, no problem" I say - thinking that obviously, they will take some measurements and that will be it. Of course, things are never just that simple, well not in my life anyway.

Brace yourself.

As I glance around the waiting room, it's clear to see that the average age of patients is somewhere between 70 and 80 years of age. By this standard, I stick out like a screaming babe in a church service.

The room resonates with a hum of conversation and machines. There are so many elderly people with casts, walkers or walking sticks. I hope that I am never that frail, but if I'm having spine surgeries already... maybe I'll need a wheelchair! As my thoughts drift down this dismal path, my name is called. I see an older man of about thirty-five, I wonder why his smile is so wide? I don't remember his name and so for the purpose of this story I shall call him Tom.

I am guided into a little room to the right of the door is an ugly hospital green medical screen, behind the screen is a black plastic chair. To the left there is a black rubber mat, a bucket, a box of cheesecloth, a tub of white powder and two hair dryers. What the heck is all this for? Oh... they must do plaster casts and stuff in here, I mused.

Tom's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Okay... so, what you need to do is get undressed and slip this on, like a dress...these holes here are for your arms" Tom explains, holding out a tiny bit of mutilated cheesecloth that will barely cover my torso from boobs to butt. "Please don't leave your underwear on because we are going to make a plaster cast of your torso, for the brace. Once we are done, we will have to cut it off you, so anything under the cast will be cut off also."

As the light of horrible understanding dawns, I appreciate why it is that Tom is chewing on the inside of his cheek as he explains my fate, he is trying not to look happy! At least he has the decency to blush! I think as I feel my face redden too. He leaves the room muttering, "I'll be back in a few minutes".

With a deep sigh I resolve to behave like a grown up. To my horror this stupid handkerchief is completely transparent. Oh boy! I might as well stand here starkers! "How's it going?" Tom says, making me jump, I didn't even hear him come back in.

"Umm, not great actually, could I possibly have another one of these, this one is just a bit... short?" I ask, peeking my red-faced head around the screen. Great, he's brought his friends, what the hell? "Sure, I'll just cut you one" he turns his back and grabs another bit of cheesecloth. "Oh... and, uhum, this is Mutt and Jeff (can't remember names again - but these will suffice), they are student technicians who will be assisting me. We have to work really fast because the plaster dries quite quickly." Mutt and Jeff stand just behind Tom, but I can tell they are equally amused with their assignment.

Fan-freeking-tastic! I know I am gaping, but seriously? "Great!" I say as I snatch the next bit of fluff and pull it over my head. Hah ha - now I have a double layer - not that transparent now, yay me! I step out from behind the screen in my little cream "cookie pelmet", feeling like a stripper at a nun convention. Subconsciously folding and unfolding my arms wishing I could find a little hole in the wall to crawl into.

I wait for them to show me the next step on the humiliation train to custom-made back braces. With ill concealed glee the three men step aside and show me to the black rubber mat. "If you could just stand here, we can get started," Tom begins. Mutt and Jeff wait for me to take my place and then kneel before me. Oh, this just gets better and better, I am sure from that angle they can see right up my little mini, wonderful! I think I am cringing and try to force myself to roll my shoulders back and hold my head high. I am sure if they killed the lights the room would glow from the blush that I cannot control.

They begin to mix the plaster and then, (I kid you not) they start rubbing the wet plaster mixture into the cheesecloth and what lies beneath. The lukewarm sludge turns ice-cold within seconds and I begin to shiver (bear in mind I am cold, wet and in white - super combination really). Finally, Tom takes pity on me and switches on a little fan heater that I had not noticed behind the bucket of plaster. The warmth seeps into my cold feet and slowly rises warming my legs and easing some of my physical discomfort.

They continue their fastidious abrasions: my hips, lower back and stomach are now encased in old wet plaster. There is no eye contact until I am asked to raise my arms (come now - you know what happens to a "dress" when you raise your arms - picture the scene). Just when I thought I could not be redder my face flushes with a deeper heat of shame. I raise my arms just slightly, like chicken wings away from my body and say, "Sorry, that will have to do." They make no further comment but again I note the strain that not grinning salaciously is taking on their poor little faces.

Jeff has obviously won some sort of contest as he now stands before me. He has a diplomatically sympathetic smile as he explains that he will need to rub the plaster under and between my breasts - so that they can "get the angle" of the front brace right. I can no longer stand the strain I release what cannot be considered a girly giggle but rather a hacking hysterical snorting laugh.

I can no longer stop myself, "Wow," I say, "and we haven't even had a date yet!" This breaks the ice and now we are all laughing, except Tom who is still trying to be professional. "I guess I will finally have an outfit that even Madonna will be jealous of..." I continue, really getting into the idea that laughter is the best medicine.

Mutt and Jeff are snickering while Tom seriously tries to explain how the brace will look when this is all over. I don't really care how it's gonna look Tom, I just want to get outta here and never see any of you again... ha ha haaa! "It's okay," I tell him, "I guess I might as well get used to perfect strangers looking and touching. During and after the surgery, it'll be a free for all." What the hell did I say that for! Dammit why don't I just shut up! I clench my jaw but my treacherous body is still shaking with laughter.

"You have a really nice smile" Mutt says, trying to make me feel better. Tom snorts and Jeff chuckles openly, "She's married dude!" he chastises playfully. Oh no! Raucous laughter erupts again and tears stream down my face, "Thanks, next thing you'll be telling me that red is a good colour on me!" I mutter, referring to the deep red blush that still will not fade. Tom is no longer pretending that this isn't funny but, ever the moral superior, he passes me a wad of tissues to wipe my tear-streaked face.

I thank him again and dab at my face, taking a few deep breaths to compose myself. The rubbing continues in silence for a while and then Mutt and Jeff pick up the hairdryers and begin my body-blow-wave. Tom is explaining that they have to make sure this layer is dry before they begin the next. He shows me a flat metal stick that looks like a long thin tongue depressor. "Once this layer is dry, I will glue this along the sternum, this will be built into the brace so that you can't bend forward."

"Okay" I reply.

Layer number two goes a bit quicker and by layer number three I am no longer a glowing red beacon visible from space. I can only imagine how I look now, in my plaster cast mini-dress that goes between but not over my boobs. I must be a vision of loveliness.

We have progressed to arbitrary conversations about study and this unusual career path. Mutt and Jeff confirm that I am one of the youngest people they have ever worked on and that usually they are handling geriatric patients, which is more difficult.

Mutt even goes as far as to say, "I was so glad to see you arrive - because every job should have some perks." Holy hell! That is a bit inappropriate, but the room erupts with laughter again. Mutt tries to do some damage control by explaining that their patients are usually not as friendly, he stammers along until Jeff says, "Dude, stop talking you're gonna hurt yourself". Mutt blushes and I realise that this is probably embarrassing for them too. "Well," I say " I guess we all have a story for Friday night drinks huh?"

Conversation is drowned out by the hairdryers and I am relieved to hear that we are almost done. As visions of the final chapter to this story turn in my head, I picture the horror of this final scene. The hairdryers are turned off and Tom smiles as he explains, "Next we need to remove the plaster, don't worry you will just feel a little tickle."

Noticing my discomfort he suggests that after they have cut it down the sides, I can remove it behind the screen, if I prefer. If I prefer? Are you serious Tom?

"Yes, I prefer, thanks!" I say, perhaps with too much enthusiasm and we all laugh again.

The little circular saw did tickle but it was most likely the easiest part of the day. Then I went behind the screen to remove it I grabbed a thin cotton gown and covered myself and then passed it over to Tom. As they walked out the room I felt a sense of relief wash over me, thank goodness that's over!