Oddball

People are aghast at the fact that we have seventeen cats and that’s perfectly understandable.
In fact, we have eighteen – that we know of!! Once we’re all tucked up in bed, who knows how many other stray cats come calling.
For more than a year now, we’ve known Oddball. He appeared out of the blue/black, nothing but bones and shadow. Desperately thin, tatty, moth-eaten and covered in mange. He ran inside, devoured everything he could find, scarfing it down whole, eyes flicking in all directions, head upright, while we and all the other cats stood around watching him, then bulleted out the door and was gone! We don’t even know why he popped in. All our animals are snipped to avoid unwanted young. Well, they aren’t unwanted but we have enough already so we try to be responsible and realistic.
With huge, wild yellow eyes and the longest tail, as nervous as a vampire in the morning – rather surprisingly, the daughter was allowed to touch him. He was trapped (humanely) and taken to the vet for treatment.
We couldn’t keep him because he bounced around the room like a tropical storm!! Uppermost on our minds was the fact that he would have a heart attack.
Visits became less frequent, then stopped altogether. He must have known we were going to catch him again and there would be another visit to the doctor.
For more than six months there wasn’t a sniff of him and as we were talking about him and saying he was probably dead, (perhaps we should have sedated him while we had the opportunity, done more for him), in he bounded, Twiggy thin, scratched and tarnished with scabs, missing fur and whiskers and a gleam in his eye that spoke of wafting pheromones.
Even after all this time he could still be touched but there is no purring and considering he is 99% feral, we’re amazed that he’s still alive. We have no idea where he’s from or where he goes. There is always food here and while the deposit of his calling card is frowned upon, he knows that he is always welcome!

Living in the Now

Imagine if you will, waking up with the worst migraine and toothache you’ve ever had or heard of, that all-consuming, mind-blowing pain, only it’s Rheumatoid Arthritis, not toothache or a mere headache and it’s in every single one of the over two hundred joints in your body! Your skull hurts, your teeth ache and your hands are so swollen they look like boxing gloves!
That’s not the worst though. Imagine it’s the day you’ve been invited to Grand Parents Day at your granddaughter’s pre-school and you can’t move an inch. Not only are you desperately disappointed but you are disappointing a little soul that has looked forward to your visit for weeks.
When I was first diagnosed with RA, I used to rage, rage against the pain. I often asked why me? I berated myself for all the bad things I’d done, not only in this life but in all my previous lives, I constantly moaned about the unfairness of it all and the fact that this was not how I had imagined spending my days.
I hate the fact that I can no longer do all the things I used to do. It’s difficult peeling potatoes, sitting down and standing up, grinding black pepper, taking a roast out of the oven and even baking a cake.
One of the biggest hurdles I’ve had to face is accepting with grace the kindness, help and support of family and friends.
It has taken me years to stop asking “why me?” and even longer to stop hating the pain, the randomness of the disease and the unfairness of it all.
I finally love my arthritis.
During a flare-up when every joint feels like an erupting volcano and I can’t think straight, I take a small moment to put my arms around the disease and say, “Don’t worry, I love you and I will look after you.”
Nothing is guaranteed in this life and if I wake tomorrow in terrible pain I know now that all I can do is take each day at a time. To be fully in that moment. Acute flare-ups and remission come and go so I try to go with the flow. I do what I can and accept what I can’t. I try to be positive and I laugh a lot which I still think is the best medicine, but on the bad days, I just accept that it is what it is.
I am fully committed to living in the now.

Friendship is good for you!

It’s not always easy making friends, but if you take that first step, chances are you won’t be sorry. On my very first day of Big School Grade One, I encountered another little girl who was crying. I said to her, “Don’t cry little girl, I’ll look after you!”

Today, fifty-three years later, we are still the very best of friends. Although separated by great distance I value my ‘old’ friends more than gold. They know me and strangely, somehow, they still love me! I’ve heard it said that good friends would kill for you and very good friends would help you bury the body …..

I recently had lunch with a bunch of ladies and it was the most refreshing, up-lifting and wonderful day I’ve had for months. There is something deeply comforting about talking in the company of lady friends – they aren’t judgmental. There isn’t any topic you can’t discuss. We all share the common worry of the future of our children, our declining health and fading memory. We also have the ability to share absolute pearls of wisdom, enjoy the most degenerate gossip and are always able to lift each others spirits.

If the head of psychiatry at Stanford University said that one of the best things a woman could do for her health was to nurture her relationships with her girlfriends, there must surely be truth in it. Quality “girlfriend time” helps create more serotonin, a neurotransmitter that helps combat depression and helps create a general feeling of wellbeing.

A well-known quote