Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Mid-Winter Blues???

OK folks, be prepared for this 'open minded, hearts'n flowers, tissue filling tears'n all,' blog as I get a few things off my chest... and a bra isn't one of them!

I recently sorted through lots of memorabilia with the intention of getting rid of stacks of seldom used, no longer needed, items at my garage sale. The day in question greeted us with threats of rain, cold and gusty winds and the sort of weather one would expect at the north (or south - whichever is coldest) pole... certainly not condusive to attracting the masses to a garage sale.

A few friends and I braved the elements for a few hours as we waited patiently to make our fortunes (one man's trash is another man's treasure sort of thing), but the few bargain hunting souls who came through the gate turned up their coat collars (and noses), did a quick 'about turn' and exited, muttering things like "who'd want that junk anyway". We sold a couple of items which were 'real bargains' at $2 or $3 only to be asked if we would accept $1.50 - which we did!

So, about three hours later and $5 richer, we gave up and retreated indoors to the heater... undaunted but determined to "try again" later in the year when at least the weather should be a little kinder. In the meantime I'll forget all thoughts of saving for a holiday in Christchurch!

Amongst the old VCR's I re-discovered a lot of home movies which, thanks to my brother Geoff, I have had copied on to discs. This gives them a longer life and makes them more convenient for viewing. On the negative side however, came looking back at happier times, such as my 50th birthday celebrated with old friends - most of whom (for various reasons) are no longer around, together with the holidays in America and Europe shared with my wife Diane... well, those times now seem too good to be real.

Not forgetting those thirteen wonderful months when Diane and I lived in Paschendale (western Victoria) with our pet dogs Tess & Ollie, cats Claude & Mintie and our darling pet goat, Sybil... all happy memories - sadly missed - which will live on in my mind forever (can you hear those violins in the background?).

Then, just two weeks ago, came the much anticipated reunion of my old band, "Insight". Approx. 50 invitations were mailed out and a similar number of emails were despatched to old friends and fans of the group asking them all to 'get in early' as this may be the last time we will be holding one of these functions. I printed several posters and circulated these as widely as possible, initiated some radio and newspaper advertising, conservatively booked 60 'afternoon teas' for our anticipated guests and waited for the bookings to roll in.

Four days before 'show time', we cancelled the event and advised the THREE people who had booked that we had more in the band than there would be seated at tables! Undaunted (again) we are thinking of re-scheduling what we will advertise as the "Final Insight Reunion" in September or October.

Most mornings of my life I have awoken to positive thoughts of how much I intend to do and eargerly looking forward to the brand new day. Over recent weeks, however, after an average of 3 - 4 hours of interrupted sleep each night broken by lengthy bouts of scratching skin irritations (diagnosed as dermatitis) and the after effects of prescribed sleeping tablets (which only work in the latter hours) I awake feeling - and looking - like a "mumbie" (a cross between a mummie and a zombie).

On non-dialysis days (Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays) I spend much of my time gazing out the window with eyes half-closed or in front of the computer contemplating what to do next! Perhaps it's a reaction to my sleeplessness or the cold weather, but the needles penetrating my arm at dialysis time seem to be more painful than ever and the nurses are having more difficulty finding the right spots to 'jab'.

Each dialysis treatment takes four hours laying on my back while the machine I'm attached to does its work. Those four hours I usually spend trying to catch up on some sleep or thinking of how I could be putting all those hours to better use. I even do maths in my head! For example, at two needles per dialysis three times a week I worked out I have a minimum of 260 needles in my arm each year... riveting stuff!

The only really bright spots in recent weeks were brief visits from friends Harry & Glenda Wilkinson (Wangaratta) and Barbara (Melbourne)... bright spots on otherwise cold, wet and gloomy days!