Heralds of Springtime
Arriving back from riding and swimming and lunch and a recce, yesterday afternoon I sat in a pleasantly tired stupor in the warmth of the car’s driving seat: In early morning shadows, I had been scraping hard ice of the windscreen while the temperature clung on at 1 degree. By the afternoon, it was positively tropical at ten degrees and the interior of the car was toasty in the slanting, bright sunshine.
In the line of flowers that crowd against the brick wall of our block, I espied a first daffodil bulb opening its petals. Opportunists soaking up sun and warmth, these bulbs are always the first in the locale to flower. And I love daffies.
Strangely, the sight of nodding daffodils, which should have triggered happy feelings, brought out a sort of exhausted grief. Wondering why that should be, I remembered that short sharp season during which I narrated the audio book of Trapped.
It had been a cold, blowing, Spring afternoon, during which I flung myself out of doors to sit balefully under a glowering sky in search of some relief from the pain of recalling, in minute detail, all the things I have written about in my book, all the whys and wherefores. My search was for release, hope and a sense that life could go on before. And I had gone in search of those heralds of springtime, daffodils, symbolising for me warmth, joy and renewal as few other flowers do. I found them in profusion, and was consoled.
Narrating the audio book was not fun – I wore several woollen jumpers to stop my teeth chattering from a chill brought on by adrenaline – as all the peace and solace that can be found in the quiet dignity of the written word was stripped away and laid bare. I recall how, at first, the engineer, a lovely chap who was only doing his job, would ask me to read that passage again, please, because some word was not strictly in line with the text. After the second day, appreciating how challenging the repeats were – how hard it is to give voice to indignities not once, or twice but four times, maybe – he relented on small details, thus probably rescuing me from a bout of insanity. As it was, I did have a short spate of PTSD which I was thankfully able to manage quite well – by dint of knowing to expect it.
I’m grateful that, by signing up to narrate my own book, I got the chance to do something so challenging. And I’m pleased that I did a creditable job. But I do so wish that I still loved daffodils as I used to.
Happy St David’s day.
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March 3, 2017
Visit to Thistle Foundation
Fran Macilvey 'Trapped: My Life with Cerebral Palsy', cerebral palsy, Fran Macilvey, Thistle Foundation 0 Comments
Visit to Thistle Foundation Edinburgh
I wish to extend a very special Thank You to Diana Noel-Paton, Chief Executive of Thistle Foundation who invited me along to Thistle’s Edinburgh headquarters on Wednesday 1st March for a tour of the new premises.
Bright, airy and welcoming, Thistle’s new headquarters at 13 Queen’s Walk, Edinburgh have been recently rebuilt, and extend a warm invitation to service users and anyone who, with a long-term health condition, would benefit from the health and wellbeing services that Thistle offer. As they say on their Facebook Page
‘We are a health and wellbeing organisation that supports people with long term conditions to manage life better. We work with the person, not the condition, to improve their health and wellbeing.’
There are so many activities on offer, all of which we can get involved in, if we choose. For example, there is a gym we can join and there are meeting rooms where different activities are organised. When I visited, I was introduced to a writers’ group that has recently started up; and I shall be going along to their meetings when I can, as well as trying out the gym to get some much needed exercise.
In so many ways the holistic, open and accepting atmosphere feels like what I’ve been looking for all my life. If I hobble, fall, or get lost, no-one is going to look askance or worry, and I will not feel out of place here, I just know it. The staff work with person centred planning, and finds solutions based on what people would like to do and to achieve, rather than making assumptions about what life-long conditions apparently entail. Wow. I’m so pleased to have discovered Thistle, which adds a new flavour to my life.
Thanks, Diana! And thank you to everyone who made me feel so welcome.
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