I was planning to write last night, but as the eyes of the world fell on Paris it just didn’t seem quite the correct thing to do.  Whilst I can’t adequately articulate how so many of us felt as events played out, I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that none of us can ever truly know what tomorrow will bring.  This reminds me of Latin lessons as an 11 year old – she has lost the plot, you are all thinking! – when I was taught by the headmaster, known to his pupils as Hissing Sid.  “What is the thief of time?” to which we would all chant “Pro – cras – tin – ation” – but we didn’t really understand.  How many youngsters do understand the concept of putting off until tomorrow what you could do today?

Of course, this doesn’t just apply to the tidying of one’s bedroom or cutting the grass.  When something life changing happens, it applies to the things in life that bring us the most joy and satisfaction, the things that we may no longer be able to do tomorrow.  Heaven forbid that it should be a tragedy of such magnitude that stops us in our tracks.  But I wonder how many of us living with chronic illness have suddenly been denied previously simple pleasures?  We had a “friends and family” session on the inpatient programme during which our nearest and dearest were invited in to understand some of the therapy we were undergoing, and also the mechanics of the implant.  One of the questions we were all asked was to name something that we had lost as a result of the illness, and something that we would like to be able to do after the implant.  Going round the circle from patient to relative to friend, the common theme was to be able to enjoy just simple tasks again – a walk in the park as a family, a meal out, sitting on the floor playing with grandchildren, playing cricket with children, a holiday.  Sometimes it is all too easy to get so caught up in our own situation, that we stop seeing what is going on around us – and this isn’t just those of us with an illness.  Every day is a challenge with chronic pain joining me for the ride, and sometimes it is really tough remembering to live for today.

I had a telephone appointment with the CNS yesterday, primarily to check that the charging of my battery is working out.  No problems there and I was advised that if I would prefer to charge for an hour once a week, rather than 2 hours every fortnight, that this is absolutely fine.  This type of battery does not need to be run down a certain amount before it is recharged – good to know – but more importantly must not be left to run too low.  If left to run out of charge completely, it would have to be surgically replaced!  She also confirmed for me that I’m not alone in needing to increase my stim level now that the weather has grown colder – although I am on a fair charge at times just to be able to feel it in my foot.  So much so that I feel sure that everyone around me must be able to see my leg doing a jig – but no one in the queue in the supermarket seemed to notice this morning!

The student son has been home this week for driving lessons – he has his test next week.  Strange really that he can fly a small plane and has his glider pilot licence before he can drive a car!  He has been taking advantage of the very nice gym in the neighbours’ garden and decided to take his mother for some physio.  The full extent of my physio was on the “walking machine” – “no, Mum, its a running machine” – not when I go on it!  Actually I did really quite well, particularly at giving out advise as son was on the rowing machine (in a previous life I used to row in an eight – Karen, remember that sponsored row up the Thames?  No one thought we little girls could do it) and lifting weights.  I’ll stick to increasing my walking speed for now……..