Our thoughts go out to the 91,000 families who have lost their loved ones; many blogs have featured this news.
This was the first blog I wrote on this site, and I thought I’d just update it a little. Originally I was thinking about sleep; how I long for it because of all the things we have to deal with as chronically ill people. Some of us look death in the face on a day to day basis. The pressured environment we live in doesn’t help; constant assessments of one sort or another. I long for escape, both physically and psychologically: I guess I am not alone in this.
‘Can’t Wait Go Bed!’ is a phrase one of my carer’s and me say to each other every day. She’s OK financially, but coping with the fallout of her adult kid’s lives on a daily basis. She escaped the DWP nightmare, but something else took it’s place, as often does in this mixed up world. We text CWGB!!! It’s the escape from life, the longing for it that beckons.
I heard this quote from Shakespeare’s Macbeth the other day, and it seemed to fit:
Methought I heard a voice cry, “Sleep no more!
IDS does murder sleep”—the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast.
Macbeth Act 2 Scene 2 Line 3
I guess you spotted the insertion where ‘Macbeth’ was supposed to feature!
‘Sleep…the balm of hurt minds‘
Yes, sleep the balm of hurt minds. I can’t wait to go to bed because being awake is nearly always not a pleasant experience. I do try; I keep telling myself for now that I have a (lovely) roof over my head, food in the cupboard, friends and family and so on. But I get sicker and sicker; I say this day is the worst day of my life, and then there’s another and another, on and on: I long for my bed; the security of complete escape.
Well, that is if I don’t get woken up in agony with my heart, or any other part of my body. And as an addition, that particular thing has become very severe. I wake maybe every hour and a half, basically in a state of heart attack. When you see such a thing in a drama, I can understand why they grab their arm and fall, poleaxed. I’ve had worse pain; the full torso spasms or bowel spasms take your breath away, then you shout out, and every slight movement causes the muscle to contract even harder. But this is a new pain. It isn’t as bad as the spasms in some ways, but it is a deep gnawing pain that signals a death spiral in your psyche.
Although I was in pain before at night, it was different; I could go 5 or more hours in a deep sleep. When the ‘balm of hurt minds’ even escapes you however, that’s when you know that there is nothing more to look forward to, neither in the day, when even standing up slowly and inching up the stairs brings the attack on, or just a simple thing like making a drink.
Finally, after 6 weeks – 3 of which I should have been on medication, and could have died because the cardiologist believed it was a spasm – I have those pills and an urgent referral yet again: thank goodness for my G.P. listening and believing me – even friends didn’t.
So now I wake up more surprised that I’m still alive! I thank God, I think. And then I have to go through the day all over again, but hopefully not in any immediate danger; that isn’t as yet clear.
Although miserable at times, I’m still thankful that I’m alive. I don’t know how or even why, but I’m grateful. I guess life could still be worse than this, and that I must accept as it comes my way. It’s the strangest feeling living on the edge of life now though; not knowing when I might just leave this mortal coil; I can’t quite get my head around this at present, but I’ll let you know.
I’ll say again, that it’s hard enough – as many of you will know – to face this constant uncertainty, without the one who ‘does murder sleep’; or, just…
R.I.P with heartfelt thoughts to you and yours; all the lives lost, and those remaining, in constant torment…