I'm revving again! This morning I awoke with the feeling of fire in my belly like I have not experienced for a long, long, time. This has come about through an idea that raced through my mind last night... to write, publish, produce, direct (all or some of...) a semi-autobiographical movie depicting the loneliness and frustrations of an Australian singer/songwriter in a wheelchair as he travels around the country on what he intends to make his final tour.
Now to find a suitable (or interested) scriptwriter who can advise me where to go - or take - my storyline for possible development. I will first approach my brother Geoff who is extremely talented at putting words together and who, hopefully, has a little more spare time at his disposal. If he can't help me, perhaps someone reading this can put forward a suggestion for me to follow.
Biggest problem now is to keep this fire raging long enough to follow it through to completion.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Still too much time to think
I continue with my hectic schedule of dialysis treatments three times a week at approximately five to six hours per session (including connection and disconnection periods and waiting for ambulances for pick-ups and drop offs). In addition, I still spend an average of 6 - 8 hours a day at my computer responding to emails, searching dating sites and web-surfing in general. Any additional waking hours are spent in thought about what is happening in my life and what future lies ahead.
It is easy for me to become meloncholy and depressed when I think about my aloneness and the lack of a potential partner... and this continues to happen on a regular basis. My team of carers provide me with a few hours of light relief from these negative thoughts as they come in to assist with my daily routine. They are all good scouts, each with their own personality, and we all get along well with each other.
The dialysis treatments are a constant, but necessary, strain on my nervous system. One particular nurse (the leader of the unit) has the knack of inserting the dialysis needles into my right arm without any real pain or discomfort, but almost every other nurse has trouble with me... getting the needles in precisely the right spot without a lengthy and painful period of fiddling around, clotting of blood and 'hitting the wall' (or piercing) the fistula (tube) in my arm. No doubt you can understand how my fear reaches new heights each time I see that Anna (the leader) is not there.
My four hours of each treatment, lying on my back on a stretcher with needled right arm outstretched and immobile, are usually spent watching morning TV, eating dry biscuits and cheese, plus a lunch of sandwiches (a challenge in itself trying to use my almost lifeless left arm) and/or staring at the ceiling. I also have the benefit of a fish tank at the foot of my resting place where the same fish constantly chase their counterparts. This is fine for the fish, but a bit on the monotonous side for the observer after a few hours.
I am hoping, eventually, to have home dialysis administered by my carers, but this will take some time to set up (having my carers trained, etc.).
Going through all this constantly without a partner standing beside me (mentally, if not physically) then coming home to a quiet and empty unit is slowly taking its toll on me, hence the reason for my heading. Still, I continue to be hopeful for a positive change to take place.
It is easy for me to become meloncholy and depressed when I think about my aloneness and the lack of a potential partner... and this continues to happen on a regular basis. My team of carers provide me with a few hours of light relief from these negative thoughts as they come in to assist with my daily routine. They are all good scouts, each with their own personality, and we all get along well with each other.
The dialysis treatments are a constant, but necessary, strain on my nervous system. One particular nurse (the leader of the unit) has the knack of inserting the dialysis needles into my right arm without any real pain or discomfort, but almost every other nurse has trouble with me... getting the needles in precisely the right spot without a lengthy and painful period of fiddling around, clotting of blood and 'hitting the wall' (or piercing) the fistula (tube) in my arm. No doubt you can understand how my fear reaches new heights each time I see that Anna (the leader) is not there.
My four hours of each treatment, lying on my back on a stretcher with needled right arm outstretched and immobile, are usually spent watching morning TV, eating dry biscuits and cheese, plus a lunch of sandwiches (a challenge in itself trying to use my almost lifeless left arm) and/or staring at the ceiling. I also have the benefit of a fish tank at the foot of my resting place where the same fish constantly chase their counterparts. This is fine for the fish, but a bit on the monotonous side for the observer after a few hours.
I am hoping, eventually, to have home dialysis administered by my carers, but this will take some time to set up (having my carers trained, etc.).
Going through all this constantly without a partner standing beside me (mentally, if not physically) then coming home to a quiet and empty unit is slowly taking its toll on me, hence the reason for my heading. Still, I continue to be hopeful for a positive change to take place.
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