Sometimes you get a chance to walk the talk. Lately I’ve been talking a lot about being grateful for everything in your life, even the so-called, “bad” things. This week has given me a number of opportunities to do just that.
There was a comment someone put on last week’s blog post which was clearly spamming and inappropriate. So, I did the sensible thing and deleted it. The problem was; the “it” I deleted was the entire post and not just the comment. This sent me into a flurry of activity which resulted in discovering that the site is not backed up and the backup options I have don’t include many elements of my website. That’s now a significant work in progress.
Then, on Friday night I had an incident which put me into hospital for an indefinite period.
I suddenly felt very ill (you don’t need a detailed description) and passed out. I came to, with Danita saying I’d collapsed and she was calling the ambulance. Being naturally compliant and accepting I didn’t argue. My blood pressure was 70/55 (normal is 120/80) and so this indicated that things were “interesting”.
During the night I had an episode where I woke up with “parallysis” on my left side. I managed to attract the attention of one of the nurses who gave me 2 Panadol and went away. Now, I’m not particularly knowledgable from a medical perspective but it did seem to me that the symptoms I mentioned sounded like a stroke. 2 Panadol somehow didn’t seem to be an appropriate response and so the next nurse who walked passed I again rose the issue of what was happening.
Eventually, I connected with a doctor who sent me for tests and then to another hospital for more tests. After that I was returned to the first hospital and so it turned into quite an adventurous night.
I was put into a ward where, at 60, I significantly lowered the average age of the group. My co-warders (or is that wardees?) consist of a mildly spastic man who is in the bed opposite me and spends the day when he’s not eating staring at me with a somewhat hostile gaze. It’s probably just my paranoia but it does make it a little uncomfortable.
Next to him is a gentleman who, based on appearance, is probably 120. He has a relatively young (about my age) and devoted Asian wife who fusses over him all day. It’s very moving to watch her. He doesn’t like to be touched and so whenever he is moved, bathed or anything else, by the staff he screams like he’s in labour. Makes you wonder what he’d be like if someone was actually hurting him.
The other member of our little group is 93 years old and has recently had a pacemaker fitted. He’s a lovely guy and we’ve had a few pleasant chats.
So, back to my original comment about being grateful for the “bad” things. This has raised questions for me about what’s the message here. I think one of the most obvious is around how I deal with stress. Something to work on.
Guess I’m just lucky 🙂
Until next time, travel well.