Dudley....no not the place...the cat!

How did that happen? turned it up the right way over on Picasa.....sorry folks...can't seem to turn it here .its a crick in the neck jobby to see Dudley properly.

Dudley was obtained by my boys as a birthday present for me when things were not to good in this household. They knew I had always hankered after a grey cat ....well black + white = grey, he was free to a good home and we were all a bit strapped for cash then. He was the last kitten in the box at a farm somewhere on the outskirts of Newcastle on Clun a very sleepy but beautiful place in the South Shropshire Hills where we had spent the day paddling in streams, lying in the sun and picnicing.

When we got him home and he came out of his box I realised just why he was the last one left in the box.....he had 'wrong' legs! Yes... he had got legs but the back ones were normal whilst the front ones were very very short.... oooops! Just imagine the walk and try not to laugh......stop it ...I can see a smirk...

Off we went to the vet......it appears he has a full joint missing out of both front legs....suspect waterworks......but otherwise should live about 5 years giv or take a year or so....Well ...he is ten this year....and I dont know how he has made it.....no... he hasn't been ill that much.....he has been a car chaser!

Dudley.....(Dudley Moore ....got the connection yet?) was the cuddliest kitten ever....he would lie on his back in my arms for hours purring away like an engine. He tried climbing trees but failed miserably because he could not do the return trip and had to be rescued by ladders on so many occasions it started to become embarassing....his stumpy little legs never stopped him hunting though and he is the best squirrel killer in the county! It is a gruesome sight watching Dudley eating one .....starts at the head....all the body, including the legs ....until there is just the tail hanging out of his mouth like a grey beard....Yuk, Yuk, Yuk!

Dudley can terrorise any dog....our three close their eyes and run past him at a rate of knots. He is definitely the boss cat in this household of 7 felines....they all move back when he approaches the feed bowls....and don't start until he has chosen his!

But somewhere about nine years ago ...Dudley met with an accident when he tried to chase a motor bike and failed. He ended up in the vets with so many broken ribs we thought that was the end of him ....but.. no he is a resilient little chap and recovered ...but he had changed...he would now bite if his back was touched.....but he is sooooooooooo sweet because he sits up like a squirrel and so many people have been 'had' thinking he is desperate for fussing! He isn't! He just wants to draw blood!

The scene...my dining room
The venue for street (street? sorry ....but gravel track with grass up the middle doesn't quite sound right) meeting about surface of said 'street'.
All neighbours....including the one that hates my ducks.....present.
Dudley on top form....sitting up to greet everyone....'how much blood can I draw tonight' licking of lips! I WARN EVERYONE .....DO NOT TOUCH DUDLEY! Do they listen ....do they hell! I find him flat on his back in the arms of the retired Doctor who insists he knows all about cats and their quirks! Meeting starts! Scream from retired Doctor ...pouring blood from nasty gash on hand. Stop meeting for First Aid break. Doctor duly bandaged....resume meeting......Scream from another cat loving neighbour who also thought they knew all about cats.......forget it sweetheart Dudley is not a cat.....he is a trainee vampire and once you realise that you will be safe!

Even I ...his champion...the one who unreservedly loves the little swine....has been caught. He puts his paws up to be picked up like a child .....so I did! The gash on my lip took weeks to heal! He loves to terrorise the young ladies that the boys have brought home and will actually stalk them like a tiger stalking prey.....more squeals and screams and standing on chairs. He is the best getting up device known to a mother.....open the bedroom door and shout 'Dudleeeeey' and a sleeping boy will emerge from the quilt like a rocket ....'dont you let that cat in here!'

Should he decide to sit on a knee of an evening....that's it mate ...you will stay put until Dudley decides to go...otherwise the growling will start and that is the prelude to a good biting should you try to dislodge him. Annual cat injections are always given to the newest vet in the practice to administer....its an 'initiation' thing.....they all know Dudley!

He sits by me on the mouse mat as I type all my blogs....he's here now...wonder if he can read?
Well Dudley...I still love you ....I might be on my own in your fan club....but I think you are great.....just don't bite me any more pleeeeeeease

Pregnancy +Depression + Epilepsy = Disaster? Part 3

...We came back from South Wales in time for the new school term and settled back into life up here on our hill without the man of the household who was residing with his parents in Wales. I had worked for a long spell in a County Court on the family section and knew how to fill a divorce petition in with my eyes closed. I got the forms and filled them in, they are still at the bottom of the drawer in the dresser...undated. Life went on. I became rather flattered at the attentions of a batchelor farmer....until I looked with cynicism at what he'd be getting...a country girl used to animals, and the countryside, with cooking and housekeeping experience, three strapping healthy sons used to hard work in the open air......Oh no!!! Its 'mum' tatooed across my forehead not 'mug'! He is still looking .....elsewhere..!

Strangely enough it was middle son who wanted to heal the rift....he that had bourne the brunt of it all that night. How come he, at 16, could forgive and understand but I still could not? I remained in fear of the unknown....terrified of the black depression the had overtaken all emotions...I was too scared to go forward, too scared to get out, too scared to look back....I was stuck in limbo ....and no, I was not strong....I was a gibbbering wreck!

We had some contact ...we had bills to pay, a house to run, animals to care for and things to discuss. I agreed to some counselling sessions which were a bit of a joke really becasuse I ended up doing the counselling and helping the lady fill in her divorce forms to save on a solicitor! Mental Health were looking after N and he was back on the anti depressents but still having the 'turns' which had worsened in that they were no longer silent and went on a lot longer. He wanted to come with me to watch youngest, who hated swimming, take part in a swimming gala.
The same day we had to attend his new secondary school for a parents get together/bonding type of event.

He had a 'turn' at the swimming baths....it was awful....as though he was drunk...he slipped off the seating and went between two chairs, I was mortified and the attendants that helped me get him outside were a bit sarky ....'should take more water with it love'....one said as he dumped him on a wall outside! 'He hasn't been drinking!' I snapped back but I could see they didn't believe me. He recovered and hadn't a clue why were now outside and wanted to go back to watch the swimming ....'its over' I lied...I couldn't go back in there with all those people looking at us. We shared a picnic in the park and went on to the school. It was a humid sunny evening and the classrooms were hot and stuffy, noisy with eleven year old chatter and in the science lab there was a smell of sulphur.....and it happened again. I wished the earth would open up as he started a queer gutteral keening which soon turned into a roar and he slipped down the cupboard where he had been standing. Parents unashamedly gawped at the entertainment whilst Gary and I pulled him out of the room ....no one offered to help. We've never ever been to a social function at that school again.

I rang the Doctor, I created mayhem, I demanded, I think I threatened, I know I swore....a lot! An appointment with a neuro surgeon was arranged and off we went again on the round of CT scans, MRI scans at different hospitals, blood tests. His diagnosis....temporal lobe epilepsy... due to a small bleeding deep inside the brain. Almost two years after the GP had so emphatically ruled out any form of epilepsy...he changed GP's! The medication was started that day and worked immediately. They want to try to reduce it to see what is happening....no chance! Hissy Hissy fit....Youngest is into GCSE mode and we nearly had one lot ruined ..no way is another lot being jeopardised....it will have to wait! I said so!

Eventually he came home, the boys were more resilient than me I have to say. I still see that ethereal extra being in a lime green suit with black hairy hands and a forked tail at the dining table with us but at least he is well behaved....at the moment......but ....hang on a minute......who is that with him .....another shady being?

I knew from the outset that N had dyslexic problems and I was so proud when into his forties he decided to sort it out and join Second Chance. He found enormous satisfaction from this and was so pleased to be able to read a book from start to finish. I never knew of any autistic tendancies .....so why do some appear to be coming out of the woodwork now at 52? Inappropriate emotional behaviour, obsessive traits that were not there before but are definitely there now. The obvious discomfort of physical touch.....and many other little things.
What is going on now I wonder....is it related to the epilepsy....is it going to get worse....or better......how do we cope with it? I don't know.......have read a bit of what is available and can see the need for an adult diagnosis but to be truthful I don't think we can face it at the moment. Perhaps .....some time....

Well there you are Angel....you got my skelly out of the cupboard..well and truly....not for sympathy or pity, they are but fragile garments, but so as you know I really do understand.

Gosh lets have a look in this cupboard now ...get a duster round those nooks and crannies....its so nice to have an empty cupboard......hang on a min .....whats that at the bottom.....? Just a few torrid romances, a few lilac letters from Leicester and a photo of a gorgeous Irishman with a beard ......oh sod it where's the recycled romance box ...don't need these any more.......

Pregnancy +Depression + Epilepsy = Disaster? Part 2

Missed a bit out of yesterday ...what a clot!
When I went off to theatre to produce baby no.3 they had a good old furkle round under the bonnet so to speak and confirmed that I had in fact been expecting twins but had miscarried one of them in the early stages......then the tests made sense....Mother Nature had sorted me out....bless her!

Anyway on we go....all back together as a family, antidepressents keeping hubby on the straight and narrow..that should have been the end of it......but no.....a couple of years went by and he decided enough was enough and wanted to ditch the tablets. Back to GP for advice and help and over a slow period tablets were duly ditched. Great stuff back to normal! Dont make me laugh ..it was the lull before the storm!

Christmas 2000- that bit between Christmas Day and New Year where if turkey appears once more on the table there will be a mutiny! We were all there rabbiting on, wine was flowing and I think we had a couple of visitors as well...I just happened to glance at Hubby to find him staring into space mid forkful....very pale.........unresponsive.....sweat appearing on his forehead......'Oh-heck ...is this a stroke?'..... I wondered....but no sooner had I gone into panic mode he was asking me what the hell was I fussing about....panic over .....silly woman!

Forgot about it...tired, overworked etc etc......until two weeks later it happened again.....another week passed....here it was again .....then at night.....'Get to the Doctors!' I demanded. 'You will have to come as well because I dont know what I'm doing that is worrying you '
'OK we will both go to the Doctor then!' Off we went ...for yours truly to be made out to be stark staring blinking mad! Fine, I thought, its my imagination....get over it, stop worrying!
But started reading up on the symptoms I was seeing. Two weeks later back to the same Doctor...me...very smart arse..having read books...'Could this be temporal lobe epilepsy?' His actual reply went along the lines of a sarcastic ..who is the Doctor here? We did however get a referral to the hospital! Then it was tests for diabetes, blood pressure, heart problems, trapped nerves, .....ingroing toenail.....sorry I jest there a bit ...but you get the drift. X rays of X rays ...off to another hospital for a different type of scan, then a CT scan, a couple of MRI's! You name it he was tested for it.....all except epilepsy!

Gave up with the NHS went private....long journeys through Wales to specialist on blood sugar disorders that aren't diabetes. No change ...it still kept happening. Started to worry about driving.....Doctor took licence away! But couldn't put a diagnosis as to why! Well that put pay to the job of ten years which he loved....but no wheels... no job! Needless to say the depression came hurtling back with a vengence......back on the tablets but strong ones this time...it took two suicide attempts to change the tablets!

By this time we are into 2001 still without a diagnosis. Foot and Mouth appeared in February 2001 and we found ourselves in the nightmare of bonfires and men in white boiler suits calling regularly. I hated them with a passion! We had reduced our flock from about 250 down to 20 old favourites in 2000 because I could not cope now with N being unwell and him not working. We became Form D restricted ....destruction next stop.... in the April, and it lasted until the end of Foot and Mouth.

Meanwhile, unable to work any distance away, N resorted to local farm work and helping out friends. That was until one friend reported us to DHSS fraud for working and claiming benefits! Er....'scuse me.....we had never claimed any benefits! I was working and my well paid job took us out of benefit brackets! DHSS duly gave us a clean bill of health ....after they investigated of course... another little thing to worry about! That friend has eaten her last meal at my dining table I can tell you! Grrrrrrrrr!!

One May evening I was idly talking to a neighbour as dusk fell when I heard a strange noise like an animal screaming coming along the track towards me. I thought it was someone drunk and larking about until I realised it was middle son....pouring blood from his nose and mouth...no shoes or socks and completely hysterical. He was 15 at the time and had been at home revising Maths for a GCSE the next day. I simply couldn't believe what had happened and dialled 999 from neighbours phone.....ambulance and police please!

So there I was with middle son with suspected fractured cheekbone and nose in A and E the night before his maths GCSE and husband in a cell charged with assault...well it couldn't get much better really. The police came to the hospital....'he is very upset...are you sure you want to press charges?' ....You bet your life I do!

J took his exam, bless him....hubby remained incacerated but was produced at the magistrates at pleaded guilty to the assault ...of which he had no recollection! Now at last he was referred to a psychiatrist.....but I was out of it now.....he wasn't coming anywhere near us....and as soon as the exams were over and school had finished we disappeared.....to Pembrokeshire in a rented cottage to lick our wounds.

And we haven't even got to the diagnosis yet.............

Pregnancy +Depression + Epilepsy = Disaster?

I have been avidly reading Country Craft Angel's blogs and have flooded the keyboard...not so much with grief but with tears of frustration at the memories when epilepsy decided to call at this house and.....came to stay! There is still so much to understand about epilepsy and its various guises and yes...there is still a stigma....'friends' have gone, even some family members don't ask us round for supper any more...just in case. It took a consultant neurosurgeon to make any sense to me, the GP was, I'm sorry to say, an absolute waste of time and in fact wasted us the best part of 18 months before a proper diagnosis and medication was given. A very very traumatic 18 months it was too....

I can remember the day when my life started to change...slowly at first ..like the waltzers. it was the day Maggie Thatcher resigned....we listened on the radio at work. I was three months pregnant but had't told anybody at that stage...well it was my third and nine months can be an age...walking across the office I had a huge pain that took my breath away...Yikes! But as soon as it was there it had gone. Carried on as normal....college night straight after work...Legal Exec exams ....loved it. Still discussing Mrs T we went for our usual coffee at 8pm where I drank a black coffee and ..thank god...ate a crunchie! Toddled off to the loo before the second half and was horrified to find blood in my shoes......!!!!! Straight home as though the devil was on my tail...Doctor called.... 'it appears you have lost your baby....hospital tonight for a D&C'

Arrived at hospital..usual round of paperwork, examinations, questions......'when did you last have anything to eat or drink?' .....Here comes the crunchie and coffee answer.... 'Oh dear ...it will be tomorrow before you can go to theatre then....we might do a scan first instead.' Counselling offered for miscarriage....'No thanks...I'm OK!' ...Well I was!

Next morning...a Friday.... had to wait for hours for a scan, huge queue for theatre....Friday is elective Cesearean day. Off I went with a group of sad dejected mums to see what was going on inside the old uterus. What do they find.....a heartbeat! For crying out loud one minute I'm pregnant, then I'm not, then I am again..!!!!!!!! Gimme the counselling now pleaseeeee!

Back to normal ante natal at GP surgery on the Monday ....loadsatests.#'] Following Sunday morning cooking lunch....midwife arrives unannounced.......'I'm afraid your tests are throwing up alarm signals...Down's Syndrome!' Appointment with consultant Wednesday ....any questions...need to make decisions....etc etc! We are now living on Devastation Street!

Wednesday dawned probably straight through from Tuesday ...never noticed ....never slept. Hubby had started being supportive but had stopped.....'cant cope...wont cope' I had written a list of questions ready for Top Man! First shock....Top Man was brusque to the point of rude.....'Its YOUR decision......no I cant answer those questions!' I sat there gobsmacked ...then I walked out! I walked out of the hospital back to the car ....'Take me somewhere that isn't here and isn't home!'

We went to Oswestry Market and sat in the cafe and I ate a bacon butty and said ...'thats buggered it....can't go to theatre now!' Went all the way back to GP surgery where we had long and meaningful discussion with brill Dr. I decided to just carry on regardless of test results and refused others....hubby not in agreement but quiet. Life resumed its pattern ...not quite normal...but good enough. Carried on with college course and worked full time.

Exams due in June ...so was baby! Completed exams on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday....went into hospital Thursday and on the Friday....went to theatre..in a state of panic...big bouncing baby boy..perfectly fit and healthy! Hubby went to pieces completely....gibbering wreck...simply could not believe it....'scuse me but I thought post natal depression was for me?????

Apparently not....depression was here to stay....so were the moods, the anger, the smashed up furniture, the accusations, the tears, the recriminations....the lot! Well if this is what happens when things go right... After about two years of this I was shattered, the boys were showing the strain, there was no support from anywhere..my parents had both died, my closest friend was ill with bowel and liver cancer and his parents said it was all my fault! OK then....you have him back and see if you can sort it! I chucked him out....got injunction, informed police etc.

Meanwhile back at the ranch we got on with our lives, went on cheap camping holidays to the Welsh coast, never went out...couldn't afford it. Still gave support to hubby - went to counselling with him, mental health visits, ....I sort of knew that there was something 'mechanically' wrong rather than he just hated us... that would have been easier to cope with.

After two years he gradually came back ...odd weekends, holidays .... the medication was working, all was well........????????????

Sod the garden lets play grannies!

Well lets hope this little chap can teach his dad how to lighten up a bit.........see below

Toby 11 weeks old.....bless

mmmmm strange day.........

I suppose because it my first day back at home when no-one else is about....there's loads to do but am not motivated in the slightest!

Have paid monthly visit to GP for chat and sick note and he has given me the all clear to drive again which is lovely...will be going back to work on 27th June after next consultant appointment and the thrice weekly physio is finished. It will be strange going back after 5 months away but I am starting to 'want' to go back now... sure sign of being on the mend I suppose.

I work in a very surreal environment - that of the Court room where we deal with everything from murders, rapes and pillages to driving matters and even untidy land! I love my job, there is never a boring minute ....well .....better take out the expert's report on the inside of the ocassional washing machine in a trading standards case.....

Behind the scenes there is a wicked ....sick...awful sense of humour that if people heard us being so un PC we would probably be hung drawn and quatered... but that comes with a job that teeters on a knife edge for most of the time ...and where you have to be serious when wearing the black gown and white bib! Talking of which ... better get them out and washed and starched....... now for a quick giggle ......we either have a collarette bibby thing to wear or tabs that tie under a blouse collar. They get chucked in the boil wash, dry on the dining room radiator and starched solid under a hot iron.

One Saturday afternoon last year eldest son ...he that is too good for his own good and needs to lighten up a bit... arrived and came into conservatory absolutely hopping.....'what ever is the matter?' I asked .....hell he was really mad and I hadn't got a clue why! .....'.DISGUSTING.....a woman of your age.....thought you would know better....!!!!' on and on he ranted.....Well whatever it was I was getting the blame for ....I couldn't remember whether I had enjoyed it or not......
'WHAT ARE YOU TWITTING ON ABOUT?'.....I definitely spoke with raised voice!
'There.....on the radiator ....FANCY wearing a thong at your age.....DISGUSTING!'
It was my tabs from work drying on the radaitor .....I laughed so much I thought I was going to be ill! Poor boy.... he was most miffed!

How not to behave in hospital!

Gosh, haven't been in here for ages, quick whizz round with the old duster is called for I think! Flowers everywhere now. Quick peep out of the window at the clematis hanging off the summer house - its never looked so lovely. Any day the peonies will burst and the roses are budding up beautifully. I love this garden in June - it really is pretty.... anyway grab a corner of the squashy sofa ... yes you can tuck your feet up as well ... no ceremony here you know. Tea? Coffee? There's some Lady Grey somewhere... or shall we just throw caution to the wind and open the wine?

Well I did have a laugh when I was in hospital, needless to say we were very, very naughty! When I got there on the Monday morning, boots blacked, hair washed you know the look - there were no beds to be had and seventeen prospective patients were turned away. I sat there pondering what was going to happen while they rang my consultant....the answer came back ....'even if she sleeps under cardboard on the grass she has got to stay!' Fine - no probs - find me some cardboard and I'll knock myself up a shelter....anyway they decided that because I was classed as 'self caring' and didn't need my blood pressure doing every few hours I could stay in one of the cottages in the grounds normally used for relatives that have a long way to travel. Off I went to find my new home and very nice it was too. Very clean, very basic, very quiet. There are three bedrooms, a communal bathroom, kitchen and lounge. I met my house mate Sylvia straight away and we were soon nattering away...we soon found that we had at one time lived in the same village and had mutual friends. She was a very fit 73 year old lady who was there to assist her disabled daughter after an operation.

I spent the rest of the day being assessed, prodded and poked, measured and twisted into positions that I had not thought possible! As evening fell we met back at the cottage and after a good dose of Corrie decided to go for a walk. I didn't for one minute think we would go far and was only wearing flip flops but Sylvia had other ideas and we set off out of the hospital grounds at a brisk pace! Bearing in mind that neither of us were local to the area and had no idea where we were heading for.....we kept walking...and nattering....and walking!

We found our way into the centre of a village and passed a working man's club, a chip shop and lo and behold there was a choice of two pubs in front of us! Well ......in we went, as soon as we checked if either of us had any money ....we both had! It was one of those pubs that has not moved with the times and had remained a real male domain....did we care? Did we hell! Silence fell as we were inspected by a dozen pairs of eyes over the rims of pint glasses! It had been a hot sticky day so I plumped for cider as my drinking partner went on the lager! We found a seat and carried on nattering....with the odd comment, sotto voice, about our surroundings! Then we noticed the two gentlemen sitting nearest to us .....padded lumberjack shirts, rigger boots, Irish accents, positively plastered....got the picture? I murmered to Sylvia 'dont fancy yours much' and she went into a fit of the giggles.....she said, 'Just look at yours then!' ...at the other end of the bar was a dead ringer for popeye the sailor ...right down to the blue cap!

You know when you are in the wrong place at the wrong time and those awful giggles keep emerging.....well I thought I was going to burst! Then the Irish tried a spot of conversation..... hopeless really.... the accent overtook the drunken rambling and we hadn't a clue what they were on about .....'any minute now we'll be having a rendition of Danny Boy..' Sylvia murmered ...well into our second drink now! We carried on in our own sweet way ...taking no notice of the locals who were obviously wondering which funny farm we would be returning to.

Then it came time to leave.....Sylvia turns to me...'Can you run?' I sit there in gobsmaked amazement .....'Dont be daft I've got flip flops on and been drinking cider and I havent had an alcoholic drink since Christmas ... not a hope!'

'We will have to make a sharp turn round the pub in case those two follow us' she says as she puts her handbag on her shoulder.

'I dont think they are capable of following us anyway!'

Out we go with cheery goodbyes all round to the most miserable looking band of men I have ever had the misfortune to encounter!

'Now...RUN!' shrieks my 73 year old drinking partner and takes off round the corner as though she has been doing sprint training for the next Olympics! I follow flipping and flopping ..but doing my best... but I get a fit of the giggles as well!

Guess what - we are lost! Because we tore round the pub we have come out in a different road... great! We navigate by the distant view of the hospital chimney and end up crossing some college grounds, 'If anybody asks - we'll tell 'em we're lost ...hic' says Sylvia, We hadn't got a clue and by now it is pitch dark!

I have never been so pleased to see the hospital lights! We fell into our cottage in sheer hysteria...and then put the kettle on and gossiped well into the night!

Next morning when I reported for a session of physical jerks...my head was hammering fit to burst! I confessed to the physio who went into gales of laughter.. and threatened to have me confined to barracks......'please do'... I said, 'please do!'