I felt so much better on Wednesday than I had on Tuesday, so much so that I was early for an appointment – 24 hours early!
The local hospice do therapy days which a friend (with myeloma) had started attending so I got myself referred. The appointment for the nursing assessment was one thirty so we thought we’d go there and then go straight to the Royal just for bloods and it turned out platelets. On the way there I asked B what the date was and informed him that I thought my appointment was actually Thursday. As we weren’t that far away we thought we’d see when we got there. Lo and behold we were indeed early but since they’d has a no show they fit us in.
The nurse we saw showed us round and outlined the schedule and what was available as well as discussing medical history. I’d thought I was being so smart taking a copy of my discharge medications with me – obviously it would have appeared a lot smarter if I’d got the day right. And do you know what B said to me and then again to the nurse, that he should take over checking the appointment schedule so that we got them right – with my memory ‘issues’ I wasn’t reliable! Needless to say the second word was off – not in front of the nurse of course, he just got a ‘look’ then.
They do crafty stuff at the therapy days and we were shown the art room. Now you’d think that I, of all people, would have been really excited to see this and I was before I went but standing in the room I wasn’t too keen. I’m not sure why. I mean I’ve even considered joining a knitting club or something similar but haven’t come across anything with a suitable time. We saw some nice painted stones, decorated glasses, jewelry boxes, mosaics and some cardboard shapes pinned to a notice board with words on them that must have been what people thought they got from being there – and it put me off. I thought it was all a bit ‘forced’ – that’s not really the right word for the job and obviously people go there for various reasons including to feel better by doing something creative.
The nurse described it as a day to be pampered – there is a relaxation time, you can sign up for massages and other complimentary therapies, there are physios and a three course lunch with wine – not that I drink. The nurse asked me if there was anything I did, such as hobbies, that made me feel better if I was feeling down to which I responded that I don’t really feel down. Yes, knitting, crocheting, sewing makes me feel me but it always has and is a barometer of how I’m feeling but from a physical point of view rather than mental and is a way of life rather than a hobby. Bud obviously makes me feel really happy.
Basically I think the problem was that walking round there made me feel like a patient in a way that going to the hospital, doing the peritoneal dialysis or walking round with a distinct lack of hair on my head don’t – I actually kind of forget I have a limited amount of hair until I see someone look at me for a bit longer than expected.
Anyhoo, I’m giving it a whirl and will be going this coming Thursday. B’s not too convinced either not least because when we came out of the assessment room we encountered the Wednesday group and he doesn’t think I’ll fit in too well with a bunch of octogenarians. Now I have a lot of friends who are older than me, and love spending time with my Auntie Eleanor who is in her 80s, but the one thing they have in common is that they have a young outlook on life whereas I have to admit the group we saw on Wednesday, who appeared to have an average age of 103, didn’t look too lively. B actually said it would suit his mother better than me!
Just as long as B doesn’t tell his Mum to go along too ….!!!
It is odd, isn’t it, what makes you feel like a patient and what doesn’t?
Somehow I think you could easily run circles around this group, so perhaps you could lead the craft sessions and perk things up a bit!!
Dear P, your beauty is so purely manifest in your pictures, your writing, and your creative work, that love unbounded flows to you, no matter the latest hair style.
I agree with Linda. Unless you can teach and share your energy, you’ll be climbing the walls with boredom whenever you’re there.
Um… basket weaving classes in a hospice? I really think you will get more depressed than anything else if you do that. I really don’t see you as part of that scene.
One has to feel good to do group activities and how many germs are floating around. When you have your own thing it is better to find a couple of people to share. You info is on the way and hope you are still ok!!!
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Hopsice and Palliative care are terms that take the wind out of me. I know, I know, it should be okay – after all, we are ALL “living on the thin branches” – but I hear you.