About me

I have been writing poetry and stories since I was a child, and a love of reading was instilled in me from an early age. I am passionate about writing, and hope you enjoy the books I have written. Whilst most of you sleep soundly in your beds, like many Parkinson’s patients, insomnia dictates, so during those hours that sleep eludes me, the house is tranquil and quiet, an atmosphere perfect to immerse myself in writing. My life has been a series of strange events, which have without doubt contributed to my creativity. To publish anything is to bear one’s soul to the world. It is to stand naked and let everyone see who you really are. I have poured my heart and soul out on paper and I hope to share this journey, immersing you in a story, capturing your attention and firing the imagination. Through my writing and public speaking I hope to bring greater awareness to the general public about living with chronic disease.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Cheese cake will do it!

I was hospitalized many years ago and upon being admitted, my blood pressure, blood tests and weight details were all noted. I was having a Gaucher bone crises, the severity of which necessitated hospitalisation as intravenous morphine was administered for the chronic pain. At night somehow, the pain seemed worse, and unable to sleep I wandered aimlessly up and down the corridor. A sympathetic nurse taking pity on me, knowing I couldn't receive a further dose of morphine for another hour, asked if I'd like a cup of tea. When in chronic pain, an hour can feel like an eternity. Desperate for anything to take my mind off the agonizing pain, I settled for the tea. A cup of tea, as you've probably gathered, how every kindly meant, doesn't really help at all. However, it made the nurse feel better, and she then had a further bright idea and offered me a piece of cheesecake from the fridge in the nurses' station. Now cheesecake is an entirely different matter, and although it does not possess any pain killing qualities; what it lacks in pain relief, it makes up for as a tasty distraction. Having enjoyed the tea and cake, I made my way back to bed. Shortly afterwards enough time had elapsed; I was able to receive the next dose of morphine, and so the night passed. The following night, I found myself in the hallway once more and the same nurse beckoned me to the nurses station where I was treated again to tea and cheesecake. This became a nightly ritual, no matter which nurse was on duty, my midnight snack had become routine. After about a week I was discharged from hospital but before leaving, they went over some tests, one of which was my weight. I had mysteriously gained weight during my hospital stay. The nurse checking again, said there had to be an error, and whoever had written my weight upon arrival must have made a mistake. I sheepishly owned up to my midnight tea and cake, to which she smiled and said "you must be the first patient I've come across who has put on weight in hospital!" I told her that cheese cake will do it!

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