If life hands you an odd sock, make a sock puppet

On Saturday at around 3 am I was admitted as a 'Voluntary Patient to the ARC2 Ward at the Noel Lavin Unit in Guildford, there being no spare beds at the Wingfield Ward, the local Mental Health Inpatient facility where I've spent some time in the past.  I've put 'Voluntary Patient' in inverted commas because I wasn't offered another option.  Over the past few weeks I've been working out my notice at my current employment and preparing for a new venture into self-employment.  I've been coping well with the pressures, but a few lingering self-doubts led to me taking a couple of decisions which Vicky and David interpreted as relapse indicators: I'd phoned my daughter after midnight Thursday night - something I've never done before as she is generally in bed before midnight - and I'd walked barefoot to my son's house (a couple of miles) and woken him at 6 am Friday morning.  He wasn't amused.  They expressed their concern by taking me to the local Accident & Emergency hospital for a psych assessment.  I went willingly as I understood their need to 'do something' about their concerns, and I was confident that a psych assessment would find me perfectly sane.  We spent 11 hours sitting in waiting rooms Friday, then they were tasked to deliver me to the ARC2 ward where I was given a bed in a room with another patient peacefully snoring the night away.

Whilst I was there, we had some glorious summery weather - here's a view from the ARC2 Lounge taken on Wednesday 23rd, looking towards Guildford Cathedral as the sun sets.

Same view the next morning after the thick mist has begun to clear to the extent you can see the buildings nearby but not the Cathedral.

I attended a couple of the therapy groups, including one on Mindfulness.  On the wall of the Therapy Lounge was this piece of artwork/wisdom on coping with feelings.

Early Start

Now I'm back to work I'm keen to create a healthy routine. This morning I was out on the mountain bike over the common for half an hour before 7 am - how's that for keen! It was a gorgeous morning. I didn't tackle any gradients too strenuous, partly because the fitness level needs to improve to accomplish them and partly because - to be totally honest - I haven't quite got the hang of the gears yet. Even on the gentle inclines I was climbing, I had to stop pedalling halfway, get off and push the bike up the rest. My previous bike had only 3-speed Sturmey-Archer gearing and I didn't do any off-roading as far as I can recall, so it's all new to me. Exhilarating, though!

Beautiful Sunset

This morning I was getting together the material I need to facilitate tonight's 'Spiritual Journeying' group session on 'Metaphors for Life'. The weather was deceptive, the clear blue sky and sunshine looked lovely through the window from my cosy study. It wasn't until I caught the bus down to my hairdressing appointment I discovered just how cold it was!

I've now taken the first steps towards getting back to work. I've applied for a part-time secretarial job and visited the local Jobcentre.

Meanwhile the diet wandered off track over the weekend but tomorrow is another day - and that glorious red sky holds a lot of promise.

Good pace, good fun, good news!

Changed tactics for my swimming session today, putting in just 10 lengths but at a fairly good pace. (I’d left it a bit late, and the session was closing so I didn’t have sufficient time to swim more).

Christina asked if I’d make up a handout of the main points from Mark’s sermon for Cell group tomorrow night. I turned it into an illustrated booklet on communication, which was quite fun and earned me some ‘brownie points’.

Good news! I rang the DVLA and my licence was granted on the 8th November and is in the post. I’m allowed to drive again! Independence! Whilst it has been good for the environment and good for me to walk or cycle, over the winter when the weather can be so grotty it makes a big difference to be able to jump in the car and drive. My first trip was to deliver a box of Thornton’s Winter Choccies and a thank you card to Dr Y_ and his secretary for their assistance in my application to have my licence renewed (see blog entry for 4th November).

Over the allotment today I pulled the last of the beetroot and picked two healthy portions of Brussels sprouts.

Snow in October!

This Christmas Cactus is blooming early!

Apparently the last October we had sufficient snowfall in the south for it to settle was back in 1934. Neither Vic nor Dave could resist making the suggestion that I get my bike out today (a family joke relating back to January 1999 when as part of a New Year Resolution to get fit, I decided to forsake the car in favour of cycling to work - a distance of around one mile. Unfortunately at the first junction, the road was like a sheet of ice. I came off the bike and managed to both dislocate and fracture my left elbow. It took months of physiotherapy before I regained the use of the arm). Ha ha. No thanks. I walked to the pool, did 20 lengths and walked home, walking to Dave's after lunch to do a spot of decorating for him then walking home again to make a warming vegetable curry with spiced basmati rice for dinner and apple crumble for dessert.

It's half-term so no Cell Group tonight. Vic and I went back to Dave's where they finished fitting skirting board and architrave in the freshly decorated bedroom and I painted the radiator and cleaned the windows.

Inner wholeness or In a hole-ness?

Recently as part of my Recovery Plan, I've been using the trampette for a bit of light exercise.

Got it out today and set it up on the grass.

Grass was wet and soggy underfoot from yesterday's rain. Took my trainers off and stepped onto the trampette, careful not to tread on grass and get socks wet.
Began to bounce.

Rapidly realised I wasn't wearing my customary sports bra. The lacy little Primark number (£3) just wasn't ... errr... 'man' enough for the task.

Provided extra support with hands, glad that the high hedges guarantee the neighbours can't see.

After a few minutes became aware that the trampette was now at a crazy drunken angle.

Stepped off onto the wet grass - Ugh! Now got wet socks.

Discovered that my bouncing had effectively hammered two of the legs deep into the soft earth. Pulled them out - but it left the black rubber feet behind in the bottom of each hole.

Found something thin, metal and slightly hooked and tried to fish for the rubber feet.

Only succeeded in catching a metal washer.

Tried digging out a core of earth with a trowel then searching through it for the rubber foot. No luck. Now not only were my socks wet, my fingers were extremely muddy with dirt trapped under the fingernails - NOT an attractive look to sport at tonight's dance class.

Added to that there's the vandalism to Vic's lawn (I think of it as his now that I leave the garden to him to tend whilst I focus on the allotment).

Like a naughty schoolgirl, I try and hide the evidence.

[Sigh] Remind myself confession is supposed to be good for the inner wholeness of the soul. Added to that I need to tell him if I want him to help me retrieve the feet.

Bag a Bargain

This fuchsia is in a sheltered spot in the garden and still thinks it's midsummer! I brought it with us from our previous house, which makes it at least 15 years old.


This week I’ve done well with the Recovery Programme: 30 lengths Wednesday, 20 lengths Thursday, supplemented by various sessions on the trampette, not to mention dancing, cycling and walking. Speaking of dancing, my dance partner has suggested that when his work schedule permits, we attend both ‘B’ and ‘C’ classes on Mondays and Thursdays. Ye-ha! and other appropriate noises of jubilation!

Today to celebrate I walked into town to buy a new handbag. Much as I like my current one, it is tedious having to keep searching for keys etc. that have worked through one of the holes in the lining.

Guess what my primary buying consideration was as I stood in front of the display in Primark?
“Will this look good with my outfit”? Nope
“Will this colour go with my shoes”? Nope.
The big question in my mind was, “Will my Bible fit in this?” In the church I belong to it's customary to take along your own Bible to meetings – probably not a factor the handbag designers consider, generally speaking, eh?.

I found one both capacious and stylish enough and discovered it was marked down from £6 to £3 – bargain! I took it to the checkout and paused when the girl asked me for £1. “It says £3 on the label” my conscience pointed out. She smiled and confirmed it was further reduced. Even better! A handbag for £1. You couldn’t buy the materials for that. Perhaps I should have bought the whole stock and given them away as Christmas presents.

As I walked out of the shop, a familiar face greeted me with a megawatt smile. “Hello, how are you?” she asked warmly.
“Very well thanks, how are you?” I returned with equal warmth, my memory struggling with the alternate question: WHO are you? I couldn’t immediately place her. It wasn’t until I was at home that I realised it was the member of Housekeeping staff at the Wingfield Ward I’d shown how to solve Sudoku puzzles. Nice that she recognized me.

Off to a good start!

Last Wednesday (10th September) I put the question: swim membership – will I or won’t I? If you guessed yes, then you know me well. Yesterday I walked to the leisure centre and signed up. The plan is to swim at least 4 times a week coupled with a healthy diet to achieve a target weight-loss of 30 lbs over 15 weeks. (Christmas is 14 weeks away). I got off to a good start this morning, waking up when the alarm went off at 6 am, cycling there, swimming 20 lengths and cycling home again before 7.40 am. Hands and ears were cold on the way there but lovely and warm on the way home, suggesting the swimming got the blood pumping round.

Came home and indulged in 2 bowls of cereals and a cooked breakfast – which isn’t exactly representative of the way I mean to go on, diet wise! Now the sun is shining and it looks a lovely day out there so I’m probably headed over the allotment once I’ve finished here.

I need a dream

This week I watched part of a TV programme called ‘The Land of the Jaguar’, and in it there was a man who reminded me of A.H., a Christian I haven’t had contact with since I changed churches. As this man enthused about his subject, the light in his eyes lit his whole face. I thought about him again today, in the context of running. A.H. began running in his 30’s, building up the miles until he was running to and from work, a round trip of about 26 miles. His artistic daughter designed him a t-shirt depicting him fleeing from Death. Remembering that today, I find myself wondering if she had read the Discworld novels and encountered the character Rincewind.

I’ve been thinking I need to create myself a Recovery Plan – to spring-clean my life, get rid of the clutter and accumulation of bad habits. Confirmation of that came in a marketing email from which I quote:
I hope that you are all finding ways to reduce stress and take advantage of the tremendous opportunity we now have to release the patterns that no longer serve us and begin to truly manifest a better dream.

Since I’ve come home from The Ridgewood, I’ve been far less motivated to maintain the exercise regimen I set myself there. At my Discharge meeting this Wednesday, I spoke of how I’ve had a low mood, and been less motivated to do even the things that I normally enjoy. The psychiatrist pointed out that it wasn’t to be unexpected, having just undergone an operation under general anaesthetic. Fair comment, I guess. Nonetheless, I think it will help me feel my life has some direction if I devise a suitable plan, scheduling some little treats and rewards for goals attained along the way. I’ll let you know how it goes.