All posts by speccy

[38] SOS


Our friend Michaela is always eloquent- this is powerful & pressing.

Originally posted on Life With Hollywood:

- Save My Life -

Ever since I studied journalism, it’s been compulsion and habit for me to read the news several times a day. Today has seen my lungs throw a slight hissy fit, which among the rest of the illnesses I’ve been experiencing over the last 7 weeks, is enough to wipe me out. So it was only tonight that I looked. And the story I saw sent fear through my body.

Last Thursday, a young girl was blue, choking on her own vomit and in desperate need of resuscitation far beyond what her parents should be expected to be capable of. They dialled 999 for an ambulance, but none were available. This little girl had to be put in the family car and rushed to hospital by her father, by which point she had gone from partially responsive to completely unresponsive with her skin all turning…

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it takes all sorts

I didn’t want to get up. It was cold, I was cosy.

I put the Christmas playlist on shuffle- there are hundreds of songs and you’d never know what could capture the imagination and warm the day.

really georgeOops, wrong Clooney! Can’t imagine how that happened…

Then I got a bad news call. We’ve lost a friend and former colleague. A small girl, younger than mine, has lost her dad. He was late to fatherhood, the proudest of doting dads. He wasn’t a religious man, but this seemed right for him today.

Any other day, this is the song that makes me smile out loud and think of him. Our mate.

keeper of all the secrets

You can tell me anything.

I’ll not repeat it. Honestly, I’ll not tell another soul.

Of course, it’s not that I’m wonderfully discreet; I simply won’t remember.

My good friend, Kileen, cannot remember a face. I’m always hazy on details. Between us, we can cobble together a version of our social lives in the 80s and 90s, amidst squeaks of returning memory and much  hilarity.


There have been times when I was told deep, deep, never to be repeated secrets. I buried them, and when, months later (as is the way of great melodrama) I was allowed to talk of such things, I’d genuinely forgotten I’d been told. It was usually the experienced Kileen who helped me pull away the layers and remember that I knew the information. Delayed gossip is even more fun.

The brain fog that comes with my ME has added to this natural tendency. I’m pretty sure I never hear gossip any more, but I assume that comes with the intervening 30 years. Now it’s important, useful things I forget. Phone calls and chores get overlooked until they become overwhelming. If only I could make remembering to iron a priority worth remembering.


Girl2 had a birthday a few weeks ago. On Sunday, Spurs Fan found a parcel addressed to her, carefully hidden in a drawer. It had been there for ages. A wonderful birthday present from Scotland, which had arrived well before the event. I recognised it, vaguely. Silly old mummy.

Yesterday it was Spurs Fan’s birthday. Nana and Grandad send presents in advance, but there was no sign of anything. All the drawers were checked. Nothing. Cards were definitely sent. The drawers were all pulled out. No, definitely not arrived. I thought to check my texts. On 24 November, I’d texted Grandad to say cards had arrived. Oops. That meant I’d hidden them, and had no recollection at all of ever seeing them.

Wardrobes, cupboards, in the ironing pile, through the hiding Christmas presents. Spurs Fan found them under the stool at my side of the bed. Your guess is as good as mine.

Nana and Grandad were distressed that their careful planning for their wee boy’s birthday seemed to be for naught. Spurs Fan was stressed at the searching and the reassuring. It ended well, but there was no ‘silly old mummy’ last evening.




Until we exploded with laughter, paused the TV, and each of us wiped tears from our eyes. Four of us in stitches, one of those perfect moments of synchronicity. The TV ad had just announced “Nothing’s ever lost until Mum can’t find it”.

Not in our world.



Links to all images on Pinterest



it’s the people, people

It was grey and cold. There was sleet. Spurs Fan and I were baffled in a DIY shop. How do we know what we want? I want the pretty shower that looks like it might be more powerful. Naturally, it’s the most expensive. Neither of us were at our best- we’d just come from IKEA. I shouldn’t get annoyed by dawdling, chatting people. Or upset toddlers who are only reflecting my own emotions. But crowds of people cause me anxiety and too much choice bothers me. Shopping for practical things is not my strong point. And all the people were in between me and the soft, fluffy inessentials.

So much of life is about the other people. We can be inspired and energised, or drained, by the other people in the space. We can be blocked and frustrated, or caught up in the flow and move further than we’d ever imagined.

I’m planning on adding another page to the blog. A page full of links and connections to some of the inspirational e patients I’ve come across. I have a big long list, and now I just have to put in the effort of actually adding the links. ( Some days I’m good on ideas, some days I can do detail…) There will always be more to do. There will always be somebody else who inspires me.

Bloggy buddies, meet Jules John.


Go on then, JFDI.