Transition

I think it's fair to say this year has been eventful, especially the last 6 months.
2018 has forced me to face some (uncomfortable at times) challenges.
The most recent one has been to see the Kiwi fly the nest this month.
We made a decision a few months ago that our relationship was no longer serving us for the highest good. Life could have so easily have  continued to slip us by, comfortable within the limitations of our partnership.
For all sorts of reasons and after months of soul searching, I finally waved goodbye to the Kiwi who has set off on his own adventures to spend time with his own family in Oz and New Zealand. I wish him nothing but joy and happiness.

Among all the emotional turmoil, this month also saw the completion of a community campaign I set up at the beginning of the year involving 15 tree's being planted in our village in commemoration of the centurion of the end of the first world war. The idea started off by a painting and then some creative writing you can read and see the painting here
The avenue consists of 3 varieties of Cherry Blossom and each one will bare the name of the fallen men from our village on a brass plaque. I am really proud of what we have achieved and hope that they will be remembered for many years to come.

As I go past the trees now, bare leafed and stripped from all signs of life, I am reminded that come Springtime, life will spring forth once more. The naked branches will transform into their greatest potential giving life and service to all that take nourishment and enjoyment from them.

And so as I go about my own daily business this Winter, hibernation is all I have on my mind.

Just like the Cherry trees, I am shedding my leaves, I feel vulnerable, abandoned and sometimes afraid. But as I strip away the old ties and bonds that held me grounded for so long, I acknowledge this Winter is a time for deep reflection, healing and even re-invention, I won't be rushed and when I am ready, I will return to give service within my community.

This song has been carrying me through the darker moments.

Soldiers of the light (revised)

Trees not Guns
By Melissa Simm

Dear Soldiers of the light

As I stand amongst the poppies, I think of what I would write to you. I wish I could tell you that times are different. You like thousands of others, went out to war believing you would pave the way for a better world and yet here we are now, 2018. We still have much to learn.

Fear and hatred, they haven’t gone. But then war could never kill that, war never will, no matter how many guns are shot or bombs that fall.

I wonder what you felt whilst out on the battlefields. What went through your mind and heart when you killed your first man? And at what number did you get up to before you stopped counting? Did you ever see the pain and the suffering in your opposition’s eyes? Were you even aware they had souls too? Or did fear or hatred get in the way like it still does for many of us, even now.

Were you afraid? Were you brave? Did you cry? Were you in love? Because: Only love can truly win a war. I expect you know that now.

And when you went down, did it hurt? Was it painless, was it sudden or did you have to endure a long lingering death, alone and afraid? Because I would be, not of death itself, but of the realisation of true horror we can inflict on another fellow being.

You ought to know, that as you went down, you also went down in history. Your names are inscribed on a plaque in St Nicholas Church, a reminder how war can tear countries and lives apart. A reminder to us all of your sacrifice.

And as we commemorate the 100th year of the ending of the Great War, 14 trees have been planted in the village in your memory. A lasting tribute to your bravery and courage.

A small token gesture to show that we can all choose to make our world a better place. Perhaps we can all be soldiers of light and because hope can make us believe that love and peace can one day prevail.

Thank you and God Bless.

Endurance

Me at 4 months on from the operation

I spent most of my childhood not wanting to exist. There are certain things I remember and one of them was dying and knowing what was on the other side of the veil. Life in this body seemed pointless and futile. I never understood why I chose to stay and spent all of my childhood wishing I could 'return home' - Wherever that was. In fact I do recall when I was around 6 years old, waking myself up choking on my own tongue because it dropped to the back of my throat. So many nights I would end up floating above my sleeping body.
Just lately I have been wondering what the point is again. Don't get me wrong. I am pleased to be alive. I have no desire to leave this world just yet! But even so. With so much turmoil going on, both in my inner world and the outer world, it's sometimes hard to remain buoyant.
Just recently I have been experiencing sickness. My facial nerve has been returning back to life after 4 months of being frozen. Good news, but it's a sensation I have not been used to for so long, especially when I still really don't have much control over what it does.
On the outside my looks are becoming more 'normal' I notice people who know me stare at my face that little bit longer, I wish they wouldn't. Some even ask me 'to smile', this really grates me. I am not a puppet.
Other stuff is going on too. The Kiwi has a date to return to his native home. I am pleased for him, but it has been feeling like we are both living in Nomads land. Until he goes, neither of us are able to move forwards. The universe is certainly throwing lessons to test my patience!
Energy levels are returning, but I have noticed that stress and tiredness will make my sickness worse. It is easy to forget that the nerve will also have so much work to do on the inside too. My taste buds - they are still not right. My inner ear which of course controls the balance. I do feel out of kilter.
All of this is fine and dandy. My body has endured so much worse over the years. I forget, but my body doesn't. Throwing up is a sign that I am still in recovery. This year is a test of endurance and patience. In the meantime. If I am feeling low, this song will always pick me up.

The Condor

The Mountain and the Condor

I had a dream the other night. I was sitting in my car about to drive though a huge Mountain Pass - Think Lord of the Rings kind of Mountain Pass.
I was about to commence my journey when 3 buses packed full of people coming the other direction blocking my road. I remember thinking why it was that everybody was going the other way - did they know something I didn't? I also remember consoling myself feeling glad that I wasn't a 'Sheep'.
Once the road became clear again I began to set off when I stalled the car. I was so frustrated desperate to set off on my trip. A voice told me to sit back and enjoy the view. As soon as the disembodied voice spoke, 2 huge great American trucks came hurtling past at great speed. Once again I was glad to have waited, a few seconds earlier, had I set forward, I would've been in collision with them. Everything has a divine timing the voice gently told me.
Finally, I was ready to go and the Pass was clear. As I began to set off, the Mountain began to shake and start to crumble before me. I had to make a decision fast, either I go or I reverse back to safety. I chose safety. It was a wise decision because I wouldn't have made it in time. I woke up shaken but believing my subconscious was giving me some sage advice.
So here I am in reality. And indeed, everything I thought I knew, everything I believed I had in my control is falling away from me, it has been since my operation.
I'm not sure what it all means. I am aware that I have been using external sources to seek validation, pleasure and some sort of meaning to all this messiness. At times I want to run away and hide. escape the heartache that I feel so bad at times.
I still have my dreams, but even they are fading. Everything that I built up and worked towards over the past six years have lost its meaning.
In a few weeks time, I will find myself alone once more and I have been gradually reaching out making my space my own again, finding solace in my own company and no matter how uncomfortable it feels, I sit in my space alone, feeling all the feels. Temptations are never far away, but I understand that even those will only ever give me temporary respite from my pain and anguish.
But somewhere through the tears, the rage and the hurt, a light is flickering and even though I feel alone, I know that I am never truly on my own.
My art work has become my savior and a porthole to my inner wisdom. My recent painting was inspired after my dream. I found myself painting in a Condor. Graceful in flight, always seeing the bigger picture, https://www.universeofsymbolism.com/condor-symbolism.html
It will soon be time to reinvent myself once more and I am looking forward to that!

Open Studio

For the past week and until tomorrow I have been taking part in the Hampshire Open Art Studio's
The experience, has been truly enlightening, with some wonderful people crossing my studio door.
I have sold some work and got some commissions, but all of that pales into insignificance by the beautiful connections that I have made.
One of these touching moments came about when an older gentleman whom I knew from years ago made a special trip out to see me and my work. We quickly re-established our friendship over a cuppa. During this time, a man and his wife came in, the gentleman was unsteady on his feet and had lost his speech through a Stroke 12 years previously. He came prepared though and handed me a card explaining who he was and I discovered that he used art as a form of therapy to recover from his own health challenges.
Knowing that my friend had recently overcome health challenges also, we all very quickly formed a bond. Few words needed to be spoken, but something magical occurred. A gentle understanding that life was full of adversities, but it was kindness and love that can carry us through the tough times. Hugs and warmth infused the studio, there were no need for words, or pity stories - we all knew that stories were just that and endings can always change if we understood our own power.
As they all left, I wished them well from the bottom of my heart. I wanted to thank them for the openness and connections made. Love comes in many forms.

In other news, I completed another new painting based around the Kundalini awakening.

Rebelling against convention and flying free

Rebelling against Convention (Flying Free) 2018

Much has taken place since my last post. Shifts are taking place. Some uncomfortable, sad even, but ultimately, in change will come beautiful new horizons.
For a while, I have had to sit with various emotions before clarity was able to peek through the fog.
up until this week, I was waking up with bouts of anxiety, fearing for what tomorrow may bring before I would even think about the day ahead. I was not present.
Worse still, I gave away my power. I was looking upon others for validation and happiness. My whole situation felt messy and I could see no solutions and then to compound matters even more, I would be constantly shaming myself for every thought and every emotion that I would have.
Fortunately though, I have been able to process some of this stuff through EFT (Emotional Freedom Tapping & Matrix Re-Imprinting) with a brilliant practitioner, Robyn Harris. https://www.equenergy.com/ She encouraged me to stay curious without attachment. This advice has served me in good stead.
There is no doubt that since my recent episode in hospital, it has changed the way I view myself and the kind of life I want to live. I am still exploring, but I have realised certain things need to be let go of in order to move forward.
One of the biggest decisions made, is that the Little Kiwi will finally fly the nest back to New Zealand. It's been a mutual decision and one that wasn't made lightly. However, there is no doubt in my mind that this is the right thing to do for both of us. This means that we have decided to separate. It would be almost 7 years come November that we have been the Quirky Cow and the Kiwi duo. I loved illustrating our adventures together. It'll be an end of an era, at least for now.
I am pushing boundaries to the max when it comes to the heart. Through doing so, I am constantly learning more about myself, my ethics and my own limitations and new boundaries are being created. There have been moments where I have felt so uncomfortable that I questioned my every motive. But what had become glaringly obvious, was that, it had not been my own actions that I had come to feel shame, in fact its been the opposite, I have never felt more authentic and more congruent with the very essence of who I am. What I had been having issues with, was the way I concerned myself on how other people may perceive me. But now that I have recognized this, I am able to acknowledge and let go. After all, it is none of my business what others think of me.
Through all of these shifts though, my creativity has shown no bounds. I have a muse at the moment and its brought me much joy in the process of creating. It's hard to believe that even this could bring me deep shame in my own feelings around such beautiful and profound emotions such as love and joy. All because it does not fit in the realms of convention.
I have never been one to conform. All throughout my school years, I would rebel. I have always striven to live outside the confines of fear and convention. It's not always been an easy ride. I love freely and that in turn can sometimes lead to heartache. But if I couldn't have the freedom to explore and to express the very essence of who I am, as authentically as I can in life, then I could never thrive with integrity, creativity and passion, the three most important values I hold close to my heart to enable me to shine my own light in this world.

Affairs of the heart

Two weeks ago I was in Cornwall celebrating my 42nd birthday with all the family. It was a delightful occasion and a much needed break and as I led back on my mothers lawn on that hot balmy afternoon stuffing birthday cake into my mouth, I counted my blessings to be alive and to belong to such a caring family.
So much healing has taken place over the past 6 weeks. Including between my own parents. We all pulled together during all the recent events and whatever had gone on in the past quickly dissolved and forgiveness ensued. Love really does conquer all.

Then just as you thinks you have life back in control, someone might drift into your life holding up a mirror in front of your face forcing you to take a long hard look at yourself and sometimes the reflection looking right back isn't the one you like and so perhaps you make small changes to make the reflection more appealing.
And sometimes, somebody comes along breaking you clean in a million pieces leaving you grappling to reassemble the broken bits, but you know that you'll never be the same again.
It's a good opportunity to take stock and take only the bits that work for you now. It'll make you feel uncomfortable. It could even be painful, letting go of the pieces that no longer serve you, but you know deep down it must be done, if not now, it'll only rear its head again in the future.
I have realized in recent years that every decision I have made is out of functionality and practicality, down to the haircut I have, the clothes I wear and the relationships I choose. It helps me to devote my time on my own personal development, learning new skills and absorbing knowledge so that I can be the best person that I can be. My life purpose is one of service to others. I am always impatient to be the change that I want to see. Time I believed was off the essence. I blindly followed that path until recently when new circumstances arrived that made me question everything that has helped me to be who I am. My integrity has been pushed to the limits and as I look down at my scattered parts, I find that some have been missing all along. I have been walking around with great gaps in me. I wasn't even aware, perhaps all my busyness of making the world a better place had been an escape from my present situation but now that I have been reawakened, I cannot forget. It's time to  reset my compass. 'What if there was another way?'
In the meantime, while all the personal stuff is going on, life is still moving forward. I have just attended an introductory course on Soul Midwifery It was something I was reminded about when I was in hospital and so I followed it up once I got back home.
Death is a certain. Do I want to continue life as I am, or do I need to make changes to fill the empty voids in my life before I die? And the next question is, if I do, then how?

New Beginnings unfurling

New Beginnings Unfurling. June 2018

I have been reluctant to blog a new post lately. Mainly because to be quite frank, I have been feeling low and I really didn't want to reflect that in my writing. However, to be authentic, one must acknowledge the highs and lows that one may ride and although my lens of the world is somewhat cloudy, I am still able to remind myself that everything is temporary. I grasp hold of that fact when I'm at my lowest.
My face has become a lot more symmetrical now, to look at me, one would probably never know half of it is still paralyzed. It is only when I talk or smile, the game is given away.
Unfortunately, the NHS has been slow on getting me an appointment with the Physio and so several phone calls later and discovering that my case has not even been processed to the physio department, I have decided to go private. Thank heavens for credit cards!
My eye is still unable to blink properly, although I am able to manually close it and it stays shut when I sleep, but it does result in my vision getting quite blurry. Attempting tasks that require precise accuracy is nothing short of frustrating.
Other more minor but equally frustrating ailments include my sense of taste being very skewed - I have a permanent almost sweet coated tongue which isn't unpleasant but irritating nonetheless and any loud noises or crowds are painful to the ear.
Tiredness is my biggest enemy lately. I wake up full of joy and anticipation for the day only to find myself battling with a huge desire to just fall asleep again half an hour later.
Working outside helps, fresh air is good for the soul and my job this time of year keeps me busy. Joy is found in the small little things, but to feel joyful is more challenging when the body doesn't want to obey. I feel fragmented and I find it difficult to remain grounded.
It is a very different feeling to when I initially came home from the hospital where I felt like I was floating,  high on the drugs I was given. These feelings I have now, are dense, thick like treacle and every step forwards is like walking through mud where I get heavier and heavier. One day soon as it dries, I will be able to kick off the mud and I will be light again and like a newly seeded fern I will unfurl into a brand new day and into new beginnings.

Working together

It's not often one comes home to find such a beautiful gift left on the garden table from the village Vicar. Handmade by her own fair hands too. My heart smiled with such warmth and love when I discovered it this afternoon. A colourful blanket, serving as a reminder that rainbows come along after the rain. 

This weekend has been a rather wonderful one, it makes such a difference when the sun is shining too.

Saturday was consumed with helping to build a roof for a friends Woodland Roundhouse. An array of people came to help. Then on Sunday, we had our village fete where once again various people from the community came together. Life is so much easier when we all work together.

It matters not where we come from, the qualifications or skills we may or may not have, but when people decide to come together to work on a common theme, suddenly, all those things we concern ourselves with during everyday life become obsolete. Completing the task in hand in the best possible way is what matters the most. 

Problem solving, team building, Creating, being outside, caring for the community and our countryside are all things that make my heart sing and it's becoming more apparent that those are the things I need to do even more of and so recently I have been exploring other ways where I can serve my community.

There has been one thought that has been on and off for a long time, perhaps even years and that is to become an End of Life Midwife or a Death Doula. Being in hospital where I was close to many very sick people had reminded me again and I jotted it down in my notebook I had the foresight to take with me.

Death has never scared me. Perhaps it is because I have had near death experiences that I am able to relate to it. Indeed, dying is far easier than birthing I seem to recall!

I have also had the privilege of being the only member of the family who could be with my Gran where I witnessed her life slip away before me. It was neither sad nor frightening. Just peaceful. (Grief came afterwards)

Of course, there are many circumstances where death is not nice, it can be unpleasant, violent even. However, I truly believe that if we could be at peace with death as well as life, perhaps death can be a beautiful transition.

Having the privilege of aiding somebody on and holding their hand metaphorically or otherwise until they are ready to move on to their next journey wherever it may be, fills me with love. 

Working together, is about supporting and finding a common theme. Usually in my experience those common themes run deep for most of us. To be loved, to be heard, to be valued and to be part of something - A Community or a sense of Connection.

How we go about these things can vary and sometimes those core values get lost along the way.

We are all so different with individual needs. To guide someone into personal empowerment so that they can make choices as to how they would like to live a life and die a death would be an honour and a privilege.

I am not saying it will be easy and I know that some people I have already spoken are surprised by my decision. But to me, it seems like the most natural path forward. Life and Death are intertwined and we don't have to be afraid to face either of them .

I will sign off with this Music and Video by  James 'Moving on'.

Regret

Every morning for the past couple of weeks I have woken up to the sound of a Bee buzzing around my flowering Geraniums adorning the outside of my bedroom window.

We are into the lovely warm evenings so the window is open wide all night breathing fresh air into my calm abode.

Each morning as my senses adjust to a new day, I listen to the Bee go about it's morning work. There is something comforting knowing that whatever the day holds, Nature will continue moving forwards, absorbed not in trivialities, but rather in each and every individual moment. It doesn't worry about the next hour, the next day or indeed the next week. It just 'Is'.

A lesson I try to take on board these days too.

Somebody in conversation almost stated that I must regret going ahead with my original surgery.

I was taken aback and before I even had a chance to respond, the conversation moved swiftly on.

The thing is, I actually don't regret a thing. Even knowing what I do now. Regret has never been part of my life story ever. I am proud of who I have become and still becoming. Without the experiences I have had, I wouldn't be the person I am today. Good and Bad experiences are only the attachment  we choose to give them.

If I think back to how I was a month ago, life looked very different. I didn't  appreciate it then, but life was easy! I am tinged with sadness. But to punish myself with any feelings of regret would be utterly destructive. My policy has always been to keep moving forward.

I feel like the tide is slowly changing for me. Sometimes I am further away from the shore than I have ever been before. But I do still see land. 

Ironically, I feel like I am not yet ready to plant myself on solid ground just yet. Summer plans have been cancelled for now. I do not have the momentum that I had a month ago. I am beginning to accept that just because plans change, it doesn't mean to say Summer is ruined. I am learning to adapt. To listen to my body and my spirit within.

I am reading much more. I cannot bear too much stimulation like the radio or TV. Crowds or loud places. Quietness is what the soul needs.

For now I will continue to bob around in the Sea. Listening and watching for the signs. I will trust that I will be guided back when I'm ready. I will keep reminding myself to stay in the moment, just like the Bee.

I do not have to drown.........

Reaching out

I have been touched by the amount of people reaching out. Friends and family, but also strangers too. Wishing me well, Sending prayers and healing. Only yesterday I received a pair of brand new Stihl safety sunglasses for my gardening work from a chap I met only once through a friend.
People genuinely care and it puts faith back into humanity, especially when all we hear on the news is doom and gloom. We only ever get fed one half of a story via mainstream media. We will do well to remember this.
Reaching out is a gift to others and it got me thinking how I have played a part in this sometimes seemingly small act of kindness in the past.
I'm not sure that I have always been able to. Reaching out to others in need of support involves vulnerability and courage.
Worrying about saying the wrong thing to that person. Not knowing how I can help. Afraid of illnesses and brokenness and raw emotions. Fear plays a big part in playing it small and it has all led me to sometimes not do anything at all.
But to do nothing is complacent and cowardly. I have sometimes been a coward in the past.
When I was in my darkest moments, it was the people who reached out that helped me see the light.
No matter how small a gesture, to understand that others cared got me through.
To have people tell me 'I got this' that has been the gift of empowerment. To understand that I didn't need protecting but rather to be believed in has given me faith in myself even when at times I thought it had failed me.
And then there is reaching out on a personal level. Reaching out to ask for help, that can be even harder. I have always considered myself a strong person. But I believe we all have the ability to be strong. I'm no one special. But I grew strong because of people reaching out to me.
To know that we are not alone and that our power is ours alone to use for the highest good is one of the biggest life lessons.
And so, in future, I will do better. I will not allow fear to get in the way of saying I care. I will reach out and if I say the wrong thing, I shall remain graceful and learn to say what is needed to be heard.

I cannot sign off without a special thank you to my parents who stood by me and is still standing through all of this. They have been my rock and I am forever grateful.
I also want to give thanks to my Godmother who came to see me in hospital after 15 years of being apart. It felt like we time had stood still. She looked after me from birth to 6 months when I was very sick in hospital. The love between us is still tangible to this day and I hope we remain firm friends and in regular contact from now on. Life is so short and love is precious.
And thank you to each and everyone of you who have followed me through this recent journey either physically or via this blog.
There is still much more to be written so this is not the end. But this is me reaching out to you to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The Lighthouse

I have been constantly amazed by the powerful ebb and flow of emotions that have arisen the last couple of days.

I have been feeling like I've been cast adrift out to Sea recently. Visits from friends and family have dwindled now that they have all checked, that despite my half working face, I am still essentially me.

It is not as if I expect people to still run around me. I don't want that at all. Life has to get back to some sort of normal. It needs to. Whatever Normal is these days.

However, normality brings in itself a sense of bittersweetness. I am glad for the peace and the solitude, the time to get to know who I am again, my work in the garden brings me a sense of grounding that I so much need right now. But what I wasn't prepared for was the huge sense of abandonment I felt when I was alone. The overwhelming fear that came in waves, wondering if this was it. This was the end to my whole life that I thought I knew.

My feet were barely treading water, Instead of riding the waves of love that I experienced before, I was now desperately paddling against the tide. I thought I was drowning.

Outside influences further impacted on it all. Drug induced emotions, Other peoples hurt feelings and here was I. Me with a broken face. A Severed Nerve. Scared, wondering if I'd ever get my smile back again. That, is true fear.

One minute I could be strong and full of hope, the next I would be climbing the walls, ready to rip anyone's head off and then sleep would beckon me the next.

Today is a better day. I have re-set me course for the Lighthouse. If I can't reach the shore, my lighthouse will guide me the way until I do.

 I have been working all day in the garden. Peace comes in tiny ripples where I bathe in the calm. Take each moment as it comes, step by step. minute my minute.

I am reminded that anger is just an emotion, left unexpressed it'll only cause more pain in the long run. 

Anger does not have to lead to violence. I used to be that person a long time ago. It's hard to believe looking back. I learnt tools and techniques. I am now an EFT practitioner and I run art workshops for young adults with learning disabilities. I am grateful for everything that I learnt because of my dark side. I am grateful that I could experience the darkest parts of my soul and learn to not be afraid of it but to embrace it and use it for the greater good.

We are all essentially good eggs with a bit of rotten in all of us. The difference is. Is that some people are too afraid to acknowledge their own rot. But out of decay, death and destruction brings beauty, and new life. It's a choice we can make, either we let the rot set inside us, to never let it escape. Or we choose new life every time every second, every moment and every day.

Frozen

It's easy to remain in good spirits when the sun his shining.
This  weekend has been a good one. I even managed to get out in the garden to mow the lawn and trim a hedge yesterday. I feel as if I have finally emerged from my bath.
Today we took a mini excursion out to a nearby village flower festival.
This afternoon has been spent illustrating and writing a new story idea I woke up with.

Despite having half a frozen face life is ok. I do of course get frustrated, but when something in your body stops working, it's all the little things that really begin to matter.
I am still waiting for physio appointments to come through, but every morning I lie in bed moving my face in the most peculiar of fashions. I have come up with nicknames, Like the Mick Jagger & Elvis lips. I even practice the Anne Robinson wink, I still can't wink yet though.......
On the plus side. I am managing with much muster to close my eye and keep it closed when sleeping. I think I have a little more movement in my lips, I am certainly not dribbling my cup of tea in the morning now.
One big let down though is the inability to whistle. I was out with the dogs yesterday and out of habit went to throw my belter of a whistle which I learnt to do years ago using my thumb and forefinger. All that came out was a pathetic whine before petering out to dribble. Another thing to relearn.

Now that I am resurfacing from my dreamland, I am beginning to remember what life I had before it became frozen along with my face.
Before I went into hospital, I had began a campaign to raise money for planting 14 tree's in our village. I had raised £200 by the time I had my op. I am  keen to get the ball rolling again to gain permission from our City Council having received the blessings from our Local Parish Council.
I signed up for more singing & Yoga lessons. I want to return to them as soon as I can.
But life has changed. There is no doubt about it. The little annoyances, the disagreements, all the bullshit. none of that matters. I have cleared my page. I am starting anew.
The words 'Never and 'Victim' act to me as a red rag would do to a bull.
No one will take away my power because it will alway's be mine to use.
My Seashell from my first dream when all this began, is vibrating with sounds. They are getting louder as I am getting stronger. My nerves are tingling with anticipation. New horizons are on its way I can almost see them. And I am standing tall. I am smiling, my face no longer the frozen atlas that it was. Instead, the scars glow a warm light. I am more than those old wounds, they are only part of my story, but they are not the whole.

Photo from Privett Church Flower Festival

Falling

I woke up from a dream this morning. I have been dreaming a lot lately, all with a reoccurring theme. I am falling.
This one though was a bit different. Metaphorical.

In my dream, I found myself back at my first real proper full-time job I had when I was 18. Only in this dream, I was the age I am now.
I reacquainted myself with all my old colleagues and I remember saying to them that it wasn't a step back returning to them because I had grown. I had evolved and I could show them what I had learnt.
I remember seeing a path lit with candles. As I drew nearer I could see people taking off their hospital wrist ID bands and placing them on the ground with a tealight. I looked at my own wrist and saw that I still had mine on. I took it off and gently placed it among the sea of flickering flames. I stepped back and could see the path grow into the distance, I wanted to follow it but instead, the mountains began to enclose around us. A storm was brewing. We all got separated and in the end it was only me climbing the mountain.
A loud boom came from the skies which triggered an avalanche. Rocks were falling over my head and people were shouting directions to me, telling me when to duck for cover and when to go.
The ground was shaking and I was afraid. I called out to people to come over but they were unable to and as my subconscious began to awaken, I watched as an outsider the image slant away and I felt myself falling until I woke up.

Instantly I understood. This path I am currently walking, is rocky, I have support, but ultimately this path is mine to walk alone. I will gain new tools and learn new skills. I will become stronger and I wont always feel like I am falling. As I make that conscious decision, I lean over to my bedside table and write a note to myself; Remember the Wings next time!

Change Ahead.

I woke up feeling pretty down this morning. I took a shower and then cried. I felt better afterwards.
I am beginning to resurface from my bath water slowly but surely. The length of time is getting just a little bit longer before my body is immersed back in the water again later in the morning where I will remain for the rest of the day. I hope that soon the plug will be pulled. The water is cold and stale now.
At lunchtime I had an online appointment with a fellow EFT/Matrix Re-Imprinting colleague who specializes in Meta-Health. I met her briefly during my training a few years ago now and I have great admiration and respect for the work that she does. You can find out more about Penny Croal's work here
My session with Penny was enlightening and heartening. My spirit began to sour once more as the trauma left my scar ridden body. I still have a journey ahead but it's a start. It is a change ahead and it is something that I do not need to fear but rather to be embraced.
Of course, I will get moments of doubt, sadness, anger, fear and grief, but they are all worthy of acknowledgement. I can choose to let them flow in me and through me until they find a way out. I can guide them all, just like little children needing to be loved. I am not afraid to hold their hands.

This afternoon I was so wiped that I slept for an hour. I honestly feel like such an old woman at the moment. My only consolation is that in rest, the body heals. I still wake up forgetting the recent physical traumas. I wish that I could stay in my dreamworld.
In other news I have created a new 'Quirky Cow' illustrated storyboard. I don't quite know how my mind conjures up the images but conjure it does and they make me laugh out loud. I am so excited by them.
The beauty of being so tired and stuck at home all day, means I have no distractions to divert my attention from my artwork. What do other people do when they don't have creativity though?.........

Facing reality

I have been waking up every morning bright eyed and bushy tailed looking forward to what the day might bring. But now, the anesthetic is finally starting to ware off which brings in itself a bittersweet experience.
The dreamlike world I was in, is leaving me, bringing in it's wake, a cold reality.
To add to the sadness, my Dad who has been with me almost everyday since i came out of hospital is returning back to work tomorrow. I will be left alone for the first time in over a week.
I know that I shall have to face my emotions buried underneath my coat of armor.
Disappointment being the main one right now. Frustration of not being able to control my face as I once did. Exhaustion by the adaptations that I have to make everyday.
Ones that haven't quite instilled into a habit yet so it's still a constant conscious battle to remember that I MUST protect my eye. The eye that never blinks, the eye that cannot close on itself when peeling an onion, or shampooing my hair. The pain that is inflicted upon it when I towel my face and the towel rubs into my eyeball. It's enough to make me want to cry, but I don't because it just spurs me on to make sure that I will make a full recovery.
I tell my Dad off for explaining to family about what happened to me and then adds at the end, 'She will never get back to how she was'. I remind him that just because the Doctors tell us so, it doesn't mean that it has to be so. I spent all my childhood proving people wrong and that fight has never gone away. I shall utilize it once more and I SHALL rise victorious.

Today we went to see my Uncle. he is on the Autistic spectrum and didn't even notice my wonky face. He just talked about his endless home improvement projects surrounded by lawnmowers and power tools inside the house.
He was looking disheveled and unkempt so my cousin and I set to work washing his hair and trimming his beard while the other cousin set about sewing up some holes in his jumper and buttons on his coat.
But he is content. I have never known anything to phase my Uncle. He is never ill and in his late 70's he is still climbing ladders doing his roof.
I have to admire him really. Among a sea of chaos and a mountain of jobs, he is an oasis of calm. He doesn't understand or even have the concept that other people around him might be a little frustrated with him. He will do things at his own pace in his own time and you can bet your bottom dollar, he will get immense pleasure and joy from whatever he will end up doing. He kept telling me about seeing the bigger picture because it will make the ending all the more worth while.
And so today I have taken that snippet of advice. My picture has only just begun, but it will get better and it will get finished just like the greatest of Master Paintings.

Prelude: Resilience

Before I write further posts, I want to mention something that happened 10 days before my original operation.
A close neighbour of mine lost his life recently, leaving his wife and adult disabled twin daughters behind. As I visited him in hospital I recognized that I was looking at the face of a dying man. I had seen similar before.
Sure enough, shortly after he crossed over the bridge.
His family are all in varying degrees of vulnerability and I happened to pass them in the village after they got off the bus from hearing the news at the hospital. What I witnessed was raw and unadulterated grief in all its messiness. It was all I could do was to sit with them on the village bench, just holding them while great violent torrents of grief stricken waves washed over them.
Eventually after time, the grief slowly ebbed and finally they were ready to go home. Tea was made in the best typical British fashion and as more tears were shed, I sat, just being until light turned to dark and more people came through until I felt they were safe to be left.
Not wishing to make another families tragedy about me, what took place though was relevant to the stories of now because it taught me some valuable lessons about human resilience.
I popped in everyday after that until my operation day. Each day, Through them, I witnessed human resilience get a little stronger.
I watched and heard other people around them come together to help support an extremely vulnerable family. Communities working together for the better.
Today was his funeral. I got my outfit out but as the hours ticked on by today, I found myself struggling more and more until in the end I made a decision that I would not go.
I know the family have a long way ahead to heal from broken hearts. But I have also seen strength in them that nobody could have possibly have foreseen and it got me thinking that it is sometimes in the biggest adversities that we finally begin to shine our true light.
Lesson number eight. Never underestimate the power of human resilience.

An extremely rare case

Today was my post Op check-up. Dad drove me to Southampton Royal Hants with some kick ass tunes playing at my request. I needed the pick-me-up as I was feeling a little apprehensive as to what would be said.
As it turns out, given the circumstances it was all promising. My wounds were healing up very nicely if not more so he stated, having just undergone 2 invasive procedures in the same place.
He had a good old delve around inside my ear while my Dad looked on at the monitor screen. I wondered why he was looking a little peaky.
My consultant took away my stitches and then my dressing inside my ear where momentarily I was able to experience a huge pressure relief, only to have it almost immediately return after he threw some ointment back in the depths of where it cannot be reached.
And so my head still feels like it is under water. My voice is so loud that it hurts to speak as is my breathing. Every sound inside my body is reverberating against my ear drum and it makes me want to hide away.
On the whole he was very nice to me. He asked how I was sincerely and so I asked him if he had ever been under anesthetic because I was tired all the time. He nodded but I think he was telling porkies to make me feel better.......
Once he sorted me out he led me back to his consultancy room. twice he omitted that his colleague had made a 'big mistake' and 'a serious error'.
I'm not ready to tackle those legal consequences yet. My priority is get better, So I just said that the important thing we do is learn from them and left it at that.
He told me I was an extremely rare case, never have they seen someone like me before and what they did know they read only in text books. I always knew I was special!
I have been referred to his Physio's now and an appointment with the consultant again in 2 months time just to check up on the healing process.
Tonight I am at home. Tired. But that seems to be a reoccurring theme for me at the moment.
As well as my hearing, I find it hard to talk on one side of my mouth. I think all these new ways of adapting is exhausting in itself until I get used to things a little more. I keep forgetting that its not even been a week since my last surgery.
I told my consultant that it looked like I was finally having to make friends with patience. He smiled wryly.
However, he did shorten my rehabilitation from 9mths to 6. I give myself two.
Next time I see him I want to be able to give him my big smile and who knows, if I practice hard enough, I might even summon a wink!
On a serious note though, he gave me a prognosis of up to 2 years before I would resume any kind of normality. But he doesn't know me and its about time I discovered more about myself. I'm feeling positive that I can be full of surprises.

On another note. while I was in hospital today, my Mum was given a bag of oracles to draw out. She was obviously thinking of me at the time and the three oracles that she ended up drawing were so apt that I wanted to include the photo as a reminder.
I have also been re-visiting my Quirky Cow and Kiwi illustrations  this morning. A whole new storyboard is evolving. I can't help but think all this is leading me onto new beginnings that could help others. My Seashell is softly whispering. My task for now is to just listen.........Ironic given the topic of why this all started!

Not my Circus

As the saying goes. 'Not my Circus. Not my Monkeys'. I've found it easy to take heed of those words the past few days. It's not that I don't care, but rather I have more pressing issues to concern myself about.
I am still feeling spaced out, but then it's not even been a week since I was discharged. Poison is still streaming around my system. Drinking plenty of water helps to cleanse me.
I sense certain individuals around me not coping as well as perhaps they ought. Poor and silly calls of judgement are made, mostly over alcohol. Upsetting the apple cart has been a phrase used by more than one person today.
We are all guilty of getting caught up in the drama of it all at times. Situations can quickly escalate. But it takes the braver and stronger of people to stand up, stand back and just let the shit go.
Being at peace is far more important than being right. ALWAYS.

I am feeling apprehensive about my meeting with the consultant tomorrow. I guess I am anxious that he will take one look at me and say he 'fixed me' or that it didn't work, either way, I am left to my own devices.
I am however assured that I will be referred to his team of Physio's in due course.
Tomorrow is another day. I have solicitors to contact and up and coming rehabilitation dates to consider. And I am still so tired. So I shall continue resting, recuperating, writing and sketching and drinking water. I really hope to fit in a bowel movement by then too. It's been 5 days of not having one and I'm fit to burst.

Dream world

Yesterday was such a special day. An impromptu barbecue surrounded by close friends and family.
prepared and cooked by the Kiwi himself. If there is one thing that he is extremely good at and that's cooking food.
Cocooned in love I counted my blessings once again for such beautiful friends and family.
After the previous evening's challenges of meeting friends and neighbours in the village, I decided against submitting myself to more trauma that day by going to the Mayfest in our Cathedral City. It is not so much that the spirit is willing, but more the body is not yet ready.
I am unable to focus on more than one task at a time and every ounce of energy is used up during the task in hand. Even enjoying the simple pleasures of eating and chatting simultaneously is too much of an ordeal at the moment.
I try to keep to a routine, but this morning I slept in. Today is rest day from people.
I feel like I am in a continuous dreamlike world. detached from the real one. I fear I am missing out and yet, my creativity is bounding through like an endless river. I wish I had more energy to keep up with it.
Sleeping they say is good for healing though. Yesterday my Mum gave me a special gift, my Grandad's hanky with his initials in the corner. Last night, I placed it carefully on my bedside table and then on top, put my Granny's Seashell that I brought in from the garden earlier that day. It was only then did it dawn on me that this was the Seashell that was in my dream.
A closer connection to my grandparents.
My Grandad especially, held and loved me through my early years of life, he believed in me. He could see the strength that I had even as a little baby. I will draw upon his wisdom and his faith if mine ever waivers. His Hanky will be the reminder and combined with the energy of my Granny's Scottish stoic attitude, Heaven forbid if anyone gets in my way!
Lesson number seven. Always drink plenty of water. As I approached my bed, I was struck by crippling cramp in my feet. In all the business of the day, I had forgotten to drink enough water. It wasn't so bad that a pint of water couldn't rectify and soon after, I nodded soundly to sleep.

First outing

I was reminded today about an Organ recital in our village church this evening. So I thought perhaps this would be just the ticket to start facing up to the world. Up until tonight, I have only seen family, but living in a small community, word was getting around and I felt like the sooner I saw people with my new face, the sooner I and they could get used to it.
What took place wasn't ever anything I could have ever have imagined. And what took place was all in my head and heart and I am glad it is over.

The Church is very conveniently through my garden gate so I did not have to travel far. I felt safe and My other half walked me there. I stepped inside and then it began to hit my like a ton of bricks. I thought I was drowning. I couldn't adjust my ears and I felt and still do like I am under a bath of water. All the while, words kept repeating round my head, 'please don't pity me, please don't feel sorry for me'. I thought I was going to pass out.
I walked out and into the neighbour's garden for some fresh air where people were still having drinks.
Some were already aware of my recent situation others not so. 'Have you had some dental work done?' they would ask and so the abbreviated explanation would be thrust upon them.
Well meaning comments would come forth. 'I have a friend who had Bells Palsy and recovered' Bla bla bla.......
All the time I was trying to breathe. trying to stay conscious. But all the time my mind was screaming. I don't have Bells Palsy! They didn't have a routine operation by a trusted surgeon only to have them severe their main facial nerve. This was never supposed to happen! I look after my health. I value my body. I nodded and smiled as best I could instead.

It was the first time I have felt any kind of acknowledgement to my predicament. Why did this happen to me? And then the frightening realization that what if people do eventually get used to my face? I don't want to get used to it. I want it back the way it was and all the time I talk about it, the easier it is to be reminded of my old face and to glean hope that I will return. If I stop talking I might forget and I don't want that.
All this and yet I still hold no anger towards my original surgeon. I have no interest in striking him off or suing or whatever one is supposed to do in such highly emotionally charged occasions. If anything I believe he will be a better surgeon because of this. I chose to do this procedure with him because he had a nice smile, but now he has taken away my own and I'm not sure what I am supposed to do or feel about that tonight.
As I sat and listened to the Organ play, I allowed tears roll down my face. Music is so cathartic. I am not one to cry easily. But as I listened I imagined the vibrations of the music heal my grafted nerves.
I had a vision of my two Neurology consultants operating over my body, my head and neck twisted unnaturally in order for them to access the vital and necessary components. I feel violated and it dawns on me that am still carrying trauma that needs to be released. Bruises are coming out now. I am bruised and battered and I am so, so tired.
Tomorrow is another day. I am supposed to be heading into our Cathedral City for Mayfest. I am not sure if I have the energy, but I shall try. Facing the world one step at a time.

Home

I am finally home. This is me recuperating in the garden earlier! And yes I did get a bit warm, but initially I think my body was still in shock. I needed the warmth from the Sun and the grounding my lawn could give me.
Surgery went smoothly and to plan. I was a fascinating case said the consultants registrar this morning. I'm not sure they have seen the inside of an ear like mine before. The procedure was complicated and sensitive and took around 3 hours to complete.
So what I have had done now, is the original prosthetic bone from the first operation removed. There was no way on being able to salvage the severed nerve and keep my new hearing intact due to the abnormality of my inner ear structure. Unfortunately it was the new prosthetic put in place on Thursday that damaged the main facial nerve.
To help repair this nerve, I have had a nerve grafted from a smaller one linked to the earlobe. They took around a half of it (3cms) to bridge the gap. It means that I will lose feeling in my earlobe but I can live with that if it means I can blink and smile once more.
I was well looked after at Southampton hospital. When I saw my new consultant just before the op. I checked with him that he had a good lunch because I didn't want my procedure to be caffeine fueled alone. He laughed and also assured me that he had a good nights sleep too. Which made two of us. Surprisingly I have been sleeping well at home. Lesson Number six. Humor must be sought at all times and used whenever possible. It helps to break down barriers and brings about the human element. We are more than just a number on a piece of paper.
I came out of theater remembering a dream about walking around a big house on a pebbled beach. The last bit I recall was picking up a seashell and cupping it over my ear to listen to waves. Ironically it was the ear that I cannot hear from. There must be a metaphoric message in that vision somewhere I'm sure.

So now that I am home, the next few steps will be to rebuild my strength. Anesthetic twice in such quick succession really doesn't feel good to the system. But I know that with rest I will recover.
My ears feel like I have bath water sloshing around inside that I cannot get rid of. I have stitches on my neck and head and bruises are beginning to appear. My face feels swollen and my eye really stings. But on the whole, I am in no great pain which I am grateful for.
I was sharing the ward with some pretty poorly ladies. One of them is being discharged today, she had a panic attack last night. The nurse did her best to console her but as I was walking past I came and sat down on her bed next to her and just held her hand. I introduced myself and asked if she minded if I tapped her hand because I was an EFT practitioner. Within 5 minutes she was calm. We talked about her work, her pet rabbits and I told her that she was going to be ok. I think the nurse didn't quite know what to do so left us to it.
Some beautiful energies were exchanged in that ward that night and I had all the ladies thank me as I left for home this morning. But it was they who were also shining beacons and I told them so.
I very much hope that they all find the resolutions and resolve to heal so that they can continue to shine forth in the world.
It got me thinking about our individual journeys on earth and I have come to recognize ours are not to dim each others lights but rather our mission in life is to help each other to shine brighter than we can ever imagine.
I have so much more to write. But for now I am feeling tired. I sense myself riding a wave of love at the moment which I know is keeping me going, but I am also aware that like every wave it will need to reach the shore line eventually.
I will keep in mind that the landing will be gentle and I shall lie on the sand and quietly grieve for what was so that I can make space to move forwards. I will pick up that empty Seashell from my dream and listen to the wisdom it will have to offer. Clarity will come in its own good time.

Reflection

As I stood in front of my bathroom mirror tonight, for the first time in a long time, I actually looked, really looked at my reflection. I never appreciated how beautiful I am.
My complexion is rosy and clear, with a youthful glow. My eyes sparkle a blue grey as they light up with each and every passing thought. I have always considered my nose to be a bit fat and broken looking, now it just looks fat on one side as the other nostril has collapsed inwards.
My lips are thin and my teeth are certainly not even or straight, but at least for now I have them all and even with my face wonky and cock eyed, I still don't think I look at all bad for a woman approaching her middle years.
Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that vain was the last thing I would ever be, but tonight, in my bathroom, on the eve of my surgery day I wanted to remind myself that I am still beautiful, I miss my smile but I think I can still pull it off from a much deeper place. I hope others are able to see it too.
I received a phone call this evening from my original surgeon. he wanted to check how I was doing. I said I was ok. And actually I was. I have been surrounded my all my loved ones and even with hospital visits the past two days which are draining in themselves, I have been taking my advice, taking one step forwards at a time. For the first time since last Thursday, I feel like finally the anesthetic is wearing off, I even had a decent bowel movement which helped me feel considerably lighter in more ways than one! And so what I was telling him was the truth. He seemed surprised that I wasn't on any painkillers. Perhaps I am lucky, or I have a higher pain threshold, or maybe its being in the garden barefoot playing with my plants until it got too dark to see tonight. I have refueled with joy once more.
I have also had plenty of cuddles from all the dogs. They sense something isn't quite right, sniffing my ear, probing and clinging to me. I smile as best I can, hug and reassure them. things will be normal again once more very soon.
Tomorrow will bring another day and another challenge. This one will be big.  Truth be told, I am petrified to go under again so soon from the last, I have fears on what I will wake up to next.
I have two top surgeons taking the whole afternoon off just to focus on getting me fixed. I have not been given a timeline. Just that I will be complex even for them. I must trust that I am in expert hands who will do everything in their power to help me. It's a big ask after the last time.
There have been mutterings that I ought to seek compensation. I will be missing out on earnings through not being able to work and coupled with taking time off for rehabilitation and whatever else the next few months (I have been warned up to two years) may bring, I could be out of pocket for some time.
For now I want to focus on getting healed. I will continue to strive this journey with integrity, but I shall also be expecting others involved in my case to be accountable to every decision made that resulted into the situation that we are all now in. However, this can never just be about me. It is about every single patient after me and every thread that tangles around each and every person involved then and now.
Lives will and have been changed. We must all learn from this and be the better people for it, otherwise all of it will be a waste and I certainly did not agree to exist on this earth just for it all to be meaningless.

Post Surgery

This past week has been somewhat life changing for me. I am struggling to know where to start as tears are rolling down my face, but start I will because in doing so I hope that perhaps anyone reading this may draw strength from my own experience.

I was born with a congenital condition. you can read more about it here I survived it and more than that I learnt to thrive. Some of us back then didn’t, because like a lot of these things, other abnormalities and conditions became apparent. Some don’t even get discovered until much later on in life. But I was one of the lucky ones and defied the medical field which I hope to again given my current situation.

So fast forward 41 years, my deaf ear that I had since birth, that I have lived with, adapted to and come to accept as part of my identity, I chose to explore the possibilities of finding a way forward to being able to hear. I was informed that technology has progressed so much, that definitely something could be done. In fact in the end I was offered three options. Conventional Hearing aids, Bone Anchor hearing aids and most excitingly, a ‘Corrective procedure’ which entailed getting inside the inner ear and replacing or fixing any one of the tiny bones that wasn’t connecting so that I would finally be able to transfer sound directly through my inner ear.

I took months to think these options through and then when I was given the demonstration Bone Anchor kit to trial, for the first time in my 41 years I discovered what I had been missing all this time. My quality of life was transformed. I have written about that experience and will publish it in another post.

Basically after more soul searching I decided to go for the corrective procedure. I was assured that the risks were low and I was happy and comfortable with my consultant in charge. He had done thousands before and no such incidents had ever occurred. Unfortunately for us all, it turns out, my original CT scans were not studied in depth.

Lesson number one. Always trust your own instincts. I had a niggling doubt, I cannot explain why, but I was concerned about the risk to my nerves. Call it intuition. I brushed it aside because I wanted desperately for this to work and I did trust my surgeons judgement.

So surgery date was last Thursday. A last chat with my surgeon assuring me that he would look after me. He had a kind face. Always smiling, I got the impression during all my appointment visits leading up to that day that he was held in high regard by all his colleagues, from way up top, down to all the nurses and anaesthetists. Because I don’t hear very well, I learnt over the years to gather information in other ways. Through body language and to sense invisible threads that tie and tangle each and every one of us together. My sense felt comfortable.

The procedure took about 1.5 hours. I woke up from a dream where I was running through a beautiful meadow. And then I tried to smile but couldn’t. My surgeon approached me with a somewhat worried expression on his face. He told me that I needed to stay in overnight because he wanted to give me another CT scan and access my progress over the next few hours. I was a most peculiar case he said.

I still wasn’t that worried and I was wheeled off to the ward. The other ladies who had undergone similar procedures to me were throwing up and feeling pretty unwell. I had a silent chuckle to myself gloating at the fact that at least I wasn’t sick! I even got out my bed and remade it because my sheets were so twisted up, I accidentally pressed the emergency button, apologized and slinked back into bed before I caused anymore mishaps. I waved to the lady opposite once she recovered herself and then shortly after, I was wheeled back downstairs for the CT scan.

When I was told the news, I was more shocked by the reaction of the nurse who was with me than with my own predicament that I was suddenly faced with.

Lesson number two. Don’t allow other people’s own fears confuse your own because we all have our own realities according to our perceptions. Our experiences may look the same on the outside but they are not felt the same.

I learn later, that her 8yr old daughter had undergone minor surgery that sadly went wrong and at the age of 14, she is still in chronic pain. I explained the best I could that I wasn’t in pain and that I wasn’t scared and I would get through this. I tried to muster up a smile, but found out I still couldn’t. I hope that one day, that nurse will find some peace for the choices she made on behalf of her daughter.

So off I hopped back to the ward. I wasn’t expecting to stay overnight and I wasn’t prepared for PJ’s so I got dressed instead. I could see the lady opposite me was in a much fitter state and so we began chatting. Turns out her sister is also called Melissa. She had just had a lovely trip to Cornwall visiting all the gardens. We shared photos and stories and talked about community living. I hope that we can remain friends.

Later on, the hospital DJ came to see us and her name was also Melissa! I got very excited choosing my playlist and settled down to a good couple of hours jigging to some good tunes.

And then the late shift team came along. Another nurse came to check my blood pressure and told me her best friend was called Melissa. And here I was thinking my name was relatively uncommon!

Of course, day eventually turned to night and with it comes the dark. Along with the dark came the blackest of thoughts. All the ‘What ifs’ and the ‘Why me’s’.

Lesson number three. Don’t allow them to become part of you and takeover. Whenever a thought like that popped into my head, I would acknowledge it but then think of something I was grateful for. It wasn’t always easy but then focusing on the latter felt far more harmful and destructive. I knew that \I just could not afford to allow those thoughts destroy my inner peace.

I don’t know what helped me through that night, but some unknown force did and I am eternally grateful. I didn't sleep but I felt ok.

The next day after a catalyst of ministerial errors I finally get discharged. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically and I was just happy to get home. I had a good night sleep that night.

Today I was seen by two top surgeons specializing in ENT (ear nose and throat) and Neurology. Both my parents came with me and for that I am so grateful because what they had to say to me was hard hitting. Reading between the lines, Mistakes were made, big ones. He told me that had it been him taking on my case he would have been very cautious on taking on the risks, I referred him to my original scans asking if he was able to see any abnormalities from them. His silence spoke volumes. It took him a long time before he could look at me again and then his colleague came in where they discussed very long and in depth the kind of steps they could take to rectify the stuff up their other colleague made. They used big words, scary words, they consulted and discussed options in front of me and my parents.

Basically, as it stands, there is no other choice, than to go into an extremely sensitive area that is already scarred and is not the average ear that one would expect from an average healthy born adult and attempt to fix the damage that had been done last Thursday. Time is of the essence. I believe this is the right move to make for me, the alternative is that I will eventually succumb to muscle wastage in my face, I will not be able to blink and my smile will be a memory.

Lesson number four. Learn to keep moving forward. Whatever has been done, or said, rightly or wrongly, I have just got to take that step forward in the best most constructive way possible, otherwise it will slowly eat away and I will suffer more for it.

Lesson number five. I realise not everyone will agree and that’s ok, but for me, forgiveness is key. I have to forgive myself for my choices first and foremost. I am still on that journey.

It may be a long one and I will be a different person arriving the other end, but I am surrounded with so much love and support. I am scared, but that’s ok. I can also see this as an adventure. Adventures aren’t meant to be easy. They are soul searching, sometimes I am grappling in the dark, sometimes I am lifted so much in sheer unconditional love and sometimes I am humbled by the actions and words of kind strangers. But most of all I will try and embrace every moment, every challenge and treat this experience as one big lesson to a much grander more beautiful evolving picture.

There will be time to reflect. I cannot afford to add to the mess with blame. Healing is all I need right now and healing I will strive for until I am well again.