Learning, adjusting, endings and beginnings.

I often forget I had a life before my autoimmune system went Pete Tong. I used to be very active, I was one of those very annoying 200 mile and hour people who never sat still, always had something new to do,

I didn't understand the lure of a holiday, I always wondered what I would do after the all you can eat breakfast. I got as far as read a book, then what? Relax, hmm I hadn't mastered relaxing in 50 years, bit late to start now. I imagined myself staying in full time work until I could no longer do the job, I aimed for someplace in my mid 70's. Retiring was never an option. I loved my job, I had worked damned hard to become a Team Manager Social Work and I got such satisfaction from knowing I had helped to change a life, to help someone. Coming home each day feeling I had done the best I could gave me such joy.

I went to the gym for 2 hours most nights, I loved going out with friends, I loved to party and dance, I so loved to dance, I might not be any good at it, but the feeling of just dancing to the music and losing myself always made me happy.  I loved to walk with my dogs, nothing beats a walk on the beach, especially when there is no one else about.  I was always doing something, going someplace and then I became ill.

I had always been prone to illness, I had glandular fever 3 times, the Doctors would say, but you can only get it once, like I went about seeking it out. Nope, I picked stuff up from anyone and everyone, I had a very bad Lyme bite some 30 yrs ago, I still have the scar. No internet Lyme diagnosis for me. No, I got bit while I was in the RAF at Thetford Forest. I ended up in a fever ward with a temperature of over 107, my system was shutting down and I had febrile fits. I laugh when people ask if they have Lyme Disease, if you have it then you really know about it.

Shortly afterwards things began to not work as well. I used to play squash, a lot, suddenly my 2 games a day went down to 2 a week, then hardly at all. I couldn't walk too far without feeling breathless and felt tired nearly all the time.
I put it down to just slowing down, which wasn't too bad as my normal was pretty manic.

Time went on, I had my son Michael in 1984, I was in the gym the day before I went into labour, even though I looked like I was about to five birth to a bungalow, I still rode a bike, still walked everywhere and still got down and scrubbed my kitchen floor. I have never been a cannot do person.

Michael was a very, very busy baby,  he was beautiful.  All dark hair, almost black eyes and a tan to his skin.  His father was part Spanish, part Mauritian, he looked Italian or Greek or Middle Eastern, he certainly didn't look like pale skin, red haired, green eyed me.  

I adored him, he was the very beat of my heart, from the moment I geld him I went all Mama Bear, touch this boy and you die sort of Mum.

He wasn't easy, he was constantly busy, he cried, a lot, we found out a valve at the head of his stomach didn't shut properly, the poos little baby had Gerd.  I have it now and its so painful.  I had to mix food in a pan, stirring his milk until it was as thick as porridge.

We were always together, his father was strict, me not so much.  After 3 years Id had enough, I knew if I stayed we'd constantly argue, me more laid back, he like a prison guard.

Mike and I left, we went back to the UK, to stay with my Mum then get our own place.

I got a job, cooking in a café, anything to earn money and get of benefits.  I knew we would be OK.

Then a man Id met in Germany when I worked in a club got in touch, he'd been going to get engaged to an American from Chicago, but, he said, he couldn't get me out of his head and wanted to meet.

The rest as they say is history.  rom the moment I saw Paul I fancied him.  My head said, ah, there you are.  He was and is gorgeous, blue blue eyes in an always smiling tanned face. It helped that he was a gentle, funny man, still is.