My Wife Has Agoraphobia!

The 2nd Belfast trip

2009-11-10T14:59:00.001Z

↑ Matthew - doesn't he look much better? ↑

Matthew isn't well and he might not be getting much better, but he's not getting any worse. A new heart defect has been identified and he has digestion problems...but these are not life-threatening problems and he's holding on.

In my opinion, the outlook is quite good; there is no (currently known) reason why he shouldn't come out of this and lead a normal life. Colm had a very difficult 1st year and nearly died but now he's as strong as an ox; Colleen had a near miss cot death, I was told that she probably had brain damage and now she's as healthy as any 25 year old; Collette, who had heart failure before she was born, was not expected to survive more than a few hours, spent her first few months of life on life support...she's expecting her first child in January!

* * * * * * * * * * *

← Jenna with niece Shannon

I'm so glad I went back to see Jenna and Matthew! Matthew was a lot better and I was able to hold him lots. The feeling I get when a tiny, helpless baby lies in my arms looking up at me with wide, dark eyes... I can't describe that feeling, but it's unique and incredibly moving. Or am I just a soppy softie? - if so, I don't care!

Joseph, Orla and my eldest granddaughter Shannon (14) also had the opportunity to meet Matthew for the first time. Actually, I was really impressed that Shannon was taking such an interest in her newest cousin. Growing up fast, Shannon is turning into a responsible, caring young woman - a granddaughter to be proud of.

With husband Colin currently unemployed, Jenna's family don't have the funds for many days out. I made it my mission to get them out of their house as much as possible. Additionally, with her family's recent relocation, granddaughter Elisha is rather lonely. Joseph and Orla provided her with all-day company. Surprisingly, there were very few arguments.

← If this was by an unknown artist, would you hang it in your living room?

We visited the Ulster Museum in Belfast - recently re-opened after a £17m ($28.36m) refurbishment. For a little city, it really is quite an impressive museum. You can see what it has to offer by clicking here. Less impressive for me was the Sean Scully exhibition which occupied all of the art galleries there. I honestly can't see why anyone would buy one of his paintings. - and I wouldn't hang one on my wall if it was given to me free. I know that the general public side with me since the museum was extremely busy and the art galleries almost deserted.

I have visited the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum several times over many years, but have never seen the transport exhibits. My last trip there was no exception: perhaps I'll check it out on my next visit? However, everyone - perhaps especially the children - thoroughly enjoyed exploring the well presented buildings and their period contents. The authentically costumed ladies and gentlemen plying extinct or ancient crafts were simultaneously entertaining and educating.

Every time I visit Ireland, I go to Dunnes Stores for clothes. The prices belie the quality; and the selection is both large and tasteful. Joseph and Orla found much to their liking during our shopping trip, as did I, so we purchased an amazing amount of clothes for an incredibly small amount of money. There was much which Marie would have liked, but surprisingly, Dunnes Stores has no presence online. I couldn't take the risk that any speculative purchases that I would make for Marie would fit and/or please her critical eye.

← Joseph took this portrait of Elisha. You can tell that it wasn't a planned event!

A visit to the excellent Lisburn Pool provided a very enjoyable aquatic diversion which nicely rounded off our trip.

The trip was an unqualified success. Joseph told Marie that he would like to live there; Orla liked playing with Elisha; Elisha cried sorely when we were leaving and keeps asking Jenna when we'll be back; Shannon told me that she had really enjoyed herself; Jenna had a well-deserved diversion and some helpful company (me - excuse the lack of modesty).

So where was the ugly, strife-torn, low-income, depressing Belfast? Still there, of course, but only providing an insignificant background to the good times being had by our little party. Beauty can co-exist with ugliness!

* * * * * * * * * * *

Joseph wrote a rather good blog post about his trip to Ireland. Click here to see it, and if you would leave a comment, it would thrill him to bits - and perhaps encourage him to keep writing. The blog post was taken from his essay "Half Term Diary" which was his half term homework. During our trip, he took loads of photographs and several are included in his post. His photographic skills are improving all the time.

The Belfast trip

2009-10-26T10:00:00.005Z

Matthew has improved, doesn't need to be hospitalised any more and will, from now, be an outpatient at the cardiac unit.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Saturday 17th October.

After arriving at Belfast International Airport, I go to the Royal Belfast Hospital for Sick Children. The same hospital where my son Colm fought for his life 28 years ago.

The taxi leaves me off at the entrance to the hospital. It is at the opposite side of the building to the old entrance I had used so often while Colm was resident there. The doorway leads into a recently constructed extension to the hospital. There is long, wide lobby decorated with pictures and sculptures presumably aimed at a juvenile public. Perhaps they are meant to give the impression that this is a fun place to visit? In the centre of the floor is a large display of toy animals under thick glass, with long, curved fluorescent tubes to to make an impressive visual impression. Unfortunately the fluorescent tubes don't work...

The lobby leads into a narrower, brighter corridor with glass walls. Outside the walls I get an unobstructed view of untended patio areas and the brightness highlights the fact that the corridor needs cleaning. A wall sign at the end of the corridor indicates that the intensive care unit is up a gloomy flight of stairs. Then another dusty corridor and a couple of sets of self-opening doors lead into the much cleaner lobby of the intensive care unit and operating theatres. A relatives' room is off the lobby, and Jenna and husband Colin are waiting for me here. Matthew is in the operating theatre.

The hospital is on an elevated site and the waiting room has good views of the wide valley which encompasses Belfast. I get a good view of the twin spires of St Peter's cathedral overshadowed by the ugly, dominant tower of Belfast City Hospital and lots of grey buildings framed by a grey sky. In the foreground is one of Belfast's many gable wall tribal murals. (Click on the images if you want to see them enlarged.)
It's depressing.

Let's have a cup of tea, suggests Jenna.

We go into the old Children's Hospital building and proceed through a dirty corridor with a cracked floor and turn into a dimly-lit, filthy corridor lined with black refuse sacks. Soon the smell of burned fat offends my nostrils. Here is the café.

The café is bright and cheerful and clean, but the smell of burned fat pervades. The cooked food on offer consists of refried, pre-fried, fat-laden potato bread, sausages and some dried-up, brittle bacon. It occurs to me that there should be health warning here. The chatty staff operate at a snail's pace. Fortunately the tea is palatable.

There is no craic. Conversation is forced, leaden; everyone is worried about baby Matthew, now being carved up on the operating table.

We go back to the relatives' room. I realise that I need to go to the toilet. It turns out that the public toilets are far away, in the entrance lobby. Luckily my need is not urgent. When I get to the toilets - there are only two to service the entire children's hospital! - I discover that one of these has no light. Someone has, I'm guessing, tried to use it anyway and the nice urine puddle on the floor is testament to the fact that they had aimed badly. The other toilet is smelly, but serviceable.

On my return to the relatives' room, we receive the welcome news that Matthew is back in the intensive care unit. The operation has gone well. We can see him. Jenna and Colin are elated.

Matthew is motionless, his tiny, yellow, jaundiced body attached to several banks of electronic equipment. He cannot breathe unaided and his heart cannot function unassisted. It is simultaneously incredibly sad and happy - sad that he should should be here like this, and happy that he survived the operation.

The staff in the intensive care unit are extremely friendly, tactful, helpful and informative. The ward is spotlessly clean. It's a shame that the rest of the hospital isn't like that.

Over the next few days, travelling to and fro the hospital, I get a chance to see how Belfast has changed since I left, 15 years ago. As in many other cities, modern development has robbed entire areas of their identity. The security situation has improved, but Belfast is still a very troubled and divided city and tribal symbols (flags, graffiti and murals) are still strategically placed to indicate which tribe rules which area. Police are still equipped with flak jackets and guns. This isn't exactly conducive to anxiety free ambling in the quieter areas. The economic recession seems to be biting hard here and about 25% of the city's shops appear to be vacant or up for sale. There are a surprising number of boarded-up derelict buildings.

The hospital is situated on the west side of Belfast in what was always a “dodgy” area. It's still a dodgy area. It is Sunday morning, and the main road to the hospital is closed due to suspected terrorist activity. We have to get there by a different route.There are lots of bomb scares, the taxi driver tells me. On the way back, there is a police road block. It is still there on Monday.

The heavily fortified building is a police station.
A police road block is in progress.

Here is the road block from the opposite direction.

In case anyone is in any doubt, I really did not enjoy my time in Belfast. This gives me conflicting emotions since it is my home town and I feel that I'm being disloyal to it. The situation has improved since I left Ireland's shores 15 years ago, but I'm sad that things haven't improved more.

I'm going back to Belfast tomorrow morning. Joseph, Orla and my granddaughter Shannon are accompanying me this time. Since Matthew isn't so ill now, my visit will be much less stressful. Perhaps I'll like the city this time. Or even dislike it less. We'll see...

Agoraphobia - another slap in the face

2009-10-22T13:41:00.005+01:00

Marie's first reaction to my decision to go and see my daughter and critically ill grandson was, ”What am I going to do?”

This is the nature of agoraphobia. Its needs must be met before anything else can be considered.

Marie has never been able to stay at home while I was outside our local area. Therefore I had to arrange for Marie to stay at her parents' house while I was in Ireland and for one of my daughters – Colleen – to look after her until she could get there. The downside of all of this was that the children would miss school during my absence.

While travelling to Ireland it suddenly occurred to me that if I was hospitalised we would have the same problems. When I was last in hospital with kidney problems, two of my adult daughters were still living at home. They were able to look after Marie and the children. They even brought Marie to see me in hospital. Now that they had moved out, it would seem that if I was to go into hospital, not only would Marie have to go to her parents', 1½ hours' drive away (thus not able to visit me often), but also the children's education would be interrupted.

Not a happy state of affairs.

I was therefore pleasantly surprised to learn, when I phoned Marie from Ireland, that she was still at home. Colleen had driven Marie to Weymouth to collect my mother-in-law. Marie's mother was now staying at our house, and would stay until I returned home from Ireland. She would be taking the children to school.

Marie now knows that she can stay at home – albeit with a “safe” person – when I am away.

This is a great relief to me and, although they don't realise it, a great benefit for the children.

Equally important, it is another slap in the face for Marie's agoraphobia/monophobia demon.

Baby is improving!

2009-10-20T18:05:00.009+01:00

Lucky baby Matthew is winning the fight to live!

More about why he is lucky later. First, here he is, just after surviving the operation on his heart.

Matthew had recovered enough yesterday to come off life support. He opened his eyes and mum Jenna was able to hold him.

He has still got some problems, the most serious of which is a hole in his heart, but the worst is over. Today he was moved to the congenital cardiac unit where he will receive less intensive specialist care. He is expected to recover sufficiently to go home in the not-too-distant future.

The only bad news is that he is more like to suffer heart problems in the future than the average person.

Why is he lucky? Here's the story...

On Friday, Jenna's midwife called to see her. It was an unplanned visit. The wound from Jenna's c-section had become infected and she had been taking antibiotics. The midwife was in the area and thought that she would take the opportunity to see how Jenna's wound was reacting to medication.

Inspection of the wound over, Jenna and the midwife were chatting when Jenna felt the need to visit the toilet. Almost simultaneously, Matthew began to cry. Jenna went to him to see what was wrong. A rancid smell emanating from the direction of the noisy baby was a pretty good indication of his problem.

"Just when I need to go to the toilet urgently, Matthew needs to be changed," Jenna complained good-naturedly.

"Don't worry about that," replied the midwife. "You go to the toilet and I'll change the baby."

While changing and bathing Matthew, the midwife could see that all was not well with the baby.

"Jenna, I think Matthew isn't breathing properly," the midwife told her when Jenna returned.

"I know that," said Jenna. "I've taken him to the doctor twice and the hospital once, and they've told me that there's nothing to worry about. Some virus, probably."

"I think you need to take him to the hospital again," said the midwife. "I'll call them and tell them that you're on your way."

Matthew was examined almost immediately on arriving at the hospital. A few minutes later, he was in the intensive care unit, and Jenna learned that her little boy had heart defects and was critically ill.

Later Jenna learned that if she had not presented the baby at the hospital on Friday evening, he would have died during the night! Matthew's life had been saved by way of a chance visit by Jenna's midwife. Now you can see why I call him lucky!

Baby's life is in the balance

2009-10-16T23:18:00.003+01:00

Baby Matthew is in the intensive ward at the hospital on a life support machine.

Today we found out that he has heart defects. He has immature, narrow arteries and two holes in his heart. He is to have a make-or-break operation in the morning. Jenna told me that she needs me to be with her so I am flying to Ireland early (very) in the morning.

Daughter Colleen is staying with Marie until her parents come to take her to their house. The children will go there too, and will be absent from school until I return. Such are the consequences of having an agoraphobic, monophobic wife.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

The dinner party

2009-10-11T22:16:00.008+01:00

There's this TV programme called "Come Dine With Me" (in the UK - other countries have their national variations. Click on the link if you don't know what this programme is about, or you'd like to know what your country's version is called). Marie and I find it very enjoyable. My older daughters and their spouses also enjoy watching it (some more than others). Marie thought that it might be fun to have our own "Come Dine With Me" competition, and mentioned this to my sons-in-law. They were enthusiastic about the idea, and soon the whole family was involved.

After pairing now-single Colleen with family friend Guillaume, we had four couples and we decided to dine at each other's houses on consecutive Saturdays. Lots were drawn to determine the order in which we would be hosting the dinner parties. Marie and I were to be the first hosts. Diners would give each of the host couples marks (out of 10) and the winning couple would get a meal at a posh restaurant paid for by the losers. To make sure that everyone had an even chance, everyone would post their menus on Facebook by 9 p.m. last Wednesday, and all meals had to be totally home cooked.

Thus on Saturday last, Marie and I gave care of Joseph and Orla to our baby sitter while we prepared the meal. Marie had selected the starter and dessert, and I had selected the main course.

This was our menu -

Bruschetta with salad garnish

Moroccan spiced roasted Exmoor lamb shanks
Maris Piper potatoes and sweet potatoes
Selection of vegetables

Individual strawberry or banana pavlova

Cheese tray
Selection of biscuits

Tea or coffee
Selection of chocolates

By lunch time on Saturday, Marie had cooked the meringues for the pavlovas. They looked perfect.

I had marinaded the lamb shanks all night in my specially prepared, 12 spice, red wine marinade. I individually wrapped the lamb shanks in tin foil and put them in the oven, five hours before they were required. I cubed the potatoes, coated them in olive oil and spices and put them in the oven just two hours before required. The tomato-based sauce was prepared and cooked and the vegetables - baby carrots, miniature courgettes, baby corn and asparagus tips - were ready for their few minutes in the steamer, just prior to serving.

Preparations complete, and with Marie busy creating her bruschettas, I turned my attentions to getting the dining room ready. With just one hour to go, I thought I noticed the faint smell of burning. Marie was changing into her evening wear, so I quickly checked the cooker.

Shit!

Someone had turned the oven up to 250º! (Probably Orla, when the babysitter wasn't looking.)

I took out the somewhat charred potatoes and the tray of lamb shanks. Although a little burned, the potatoes still tasted good. Since the lamb shanks were wrapped in tin foil, it was impossible to know whether or not they had been incinerated. There wasn't enough time to prepare anything else, so I decided to take a chance and serve them as planned.

The guests arrived bearing gifts of fine wine and were soon sampling the culinary efforts of Marie and myself. Marie's bruschettas were superb and she was duly complimented. The lamb shanks, when unwrapped, turned out to be crisp on the outside, but very tender, succulent and aromatic on the inside. The marinade had done its job superbly. The potatoes were equally delicious despite their charred appearance. The main course had almost turned out the way I had hoped. Later, the meringues Marie had prepared were absolutely perfect and her pavlovas were a big hit.

After dinner, our guests requested that I play the piano for them. I was able to play some of their favourite tunes and I remembered some popular French melodies which greatly pleased Guillaume. After much wine consumption, festivities ceased around 2 a.m.

Our dinner party had been a great success. We retired, happy tired, looking forward to seeing what the other dinner parties will have to offer.

And Marie's anxiety was absent all day long.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Did you know that Tesco sells saffron for almost £6,000 per kilo!!? (That's about $4.300 per pound.) You knew that? Well, it was quite a surprise for me.

My autistic son - Back in the saddle again

2009-10-02T21:22:00.006+01:00

Colm has had many riding lessons, but few as important as yesterday's.

And this is why...

Our local branch of the Riding for the Disabled Association provides riding lessons during school term time. This means that during the summer, it is closed for lessons for 5 weeks.

Five weeks is an eternity to Colm, if it means 5 weeks without riding. So we looked around for somewhere else to go during the summer - somewhere that would be sympathetic to Colm's peculiar needs. We found such a place - or so we thought - near Ilminster, thus not far from where Colm lives.

Colm was well pleased with his new riding school and, despite all the staff and all the horses being new to him, adjusted extremely well. The first weeks were very enjoyable, but then there came a point where the inexperience of trainer and horse of having pupils like Colm began to show. The owner of the school was taking a lesson with Colm and moving things a bit too fast... She tried to get Colm to do a small jump while cantering. Colm looked uneasy and tried to object, but she ordered him to continue. His lack of confidence caused him to let the reigns go loose. The lack of direction caused the horse to refuse the jump. Colm went sailing over the horse's head, landing heavily on his side.

Colm got to his feet quickly, but looked shaken and very distressed.

"My arm," he said to the trainer.

"It's only a bad bump," said the trainer. "Come up here and we'll get you on the horse again."

I knew from Colm's demeanour that it was more than a bad bump, and went over to the trainer to tell her so. She argued with me and wanted Colm to continue with his lesson, but I wasn't having any of it. I took Colm to the car and then speedily to the hospital.

An x-ray proved that my suspicion had been well founded. Colm had broken his wrist. An hour or so later he was wearing a rather large plaster. Throughout the 3 hours we had been at the hospital, Colm had been the model patient. He was compliant in every respect.

His first plaster was rather heavy, made him very itchy and became quite tight, which affected Colm's disposition. He became a more than a little tetchy, so it was a relief when, after x-rays showed that all was as well as could be hoped for, this was replaced by a smaller, lighter one. The healing process continued and last week the plaster was declared redundant and removed. Colm's wrist is as good as new.

This week Colm went back to the RDA centre. His delight at returning there - the moment he had been anticipating for all those weeks - was obvious for all to see.

Apart from some issues arising from his broken wrist, Colm's life continues to improve. He has been 2 years at his current address, and he is now in his most settled period since leaving home 7 years ago. The 3 sisters who live in Taunton take him out regularly and he visits Marie and me from time to time. He seems very satisfied with this arrangement, and now when he comes to our house for dinner, is ready to leave after a couple of hours. Progress indeed.

Oh yes - the other riding school - Colm won't be going back there!

Hello new baby, goodbye husband...

2009-09-28T22:40:00.006+01:00

HELLO NEW BABY

I am proud to announce the birth of my 5th grandchild, Matthew. His aunt and uncle - Orla and Joseph - are thrilled too, as is Marie.

He was 7lb 6oz (3.345kg) and delivered by caesarean section. Jenna was extremely anxious this morning, but once things got under way, sailed through the procedure. Despite previous worries, the birth was uneventful; mother Jenna and Matthew are both fine.

Babies never look their best just after birth, but c-section babies look better than those who have just been squeezed through the birth canal. Here is Matthew, aged 2 hours...

Do you think he has his grandfather's good looks???

I'll be planning a visit to Ireland to see him - and my daughter - soon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

GOODBYE HUSBAND

While baby Matthew was making his entrance into our family, Colleen's husband, Jim, was making his exit. Married less than 8 months, the couple agreed to separate today. It appears that there is no hope of a reconciliation.

Colleen appears to be bearing up bravely, but having gone through too many similar episodes myself, I can empathise with her true feelings. Marie, who suffered an unpleasant breakup with her first true love, was similarly upset at the news. However, we are both hopeful that a better future awaits Colleen...in due course.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So it's a happy/sad day. Isn't that just typical of life?

Graduation Day!

2009-09-26T18:37:00.012+01:00

It was Carla's graduation day today.

Carla, my oldest daughter, has been studying nursing at Plymouth University. Below, she is on the platform getting her certificate. (She's centre stage.)

The graduation ceremony took place at The Hoe, a spectacular waterside site just minutes away from Plymouth city centre.

This was one of the songs played at the end of the ceremony.

Afterwards, we drank champagne and munched canapés at the post ceremony celebration.

Carla's husband Jason, her sisters Colleen and Collette and I attended the ceremony (Marie went to her parents' house with my 2 little children).

Here is Carla in the middle of a sea of graduates.

Look below. Does it show how proud I am of her?

You see, her degree was achieved despite having a difficult learning environment.

Carla left school at the age of 16 with almost no qualifications. During the examination period that year, Carla was having problems with her mother's husband being violent towards her - and her mother's inability or unwillingness to stop him. This bothered her so much that she came to live with me full time. Under these circumstances, I knew that her examination results were not a true measure of her capabilities; but Carla wasn't so sure...

However, 14 years later, married with 3 children, the youngest of whom was only 1 year old, she resumed her education. As she progressed, she became more self-confident and began to believe that she could complete a university course in nursing.

It was a tough time - as well as studying and bringing up 3 children (with assistance from her husband, of course), she also worked part time to help pay the domestic bills.

Today was the culmination of her efforts.

The mandatory ritual of throwing of Mortar Boards into the air was duly performed.

And this was the moment she had been working so hard for...

Carla is now working at the coronary care unit of our local hospital. She had been here before, on a work experience placement, and the head of the unit begged her to return after graduation.

Carla has determined to carry on with her studies at the university while carrying out her clinical duties. With the determination and ability she has shown so far, she is sure to succeed.

She is an inspiration to her sisters, and anyone else whose school leaving examination results are poor. She has shown that it's never too late to learn.
Never too late to follow your dreams.

Here is another song played at the end of the ceremony...
(I think there must be some Take That fans at Plymouth University)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jenna's caesarean section has been moved to Monday. There were tests yesterday, today and there will be more tomorrow. So far, the tests are indicating that there is a great likelihood that there will be no problems with the birth.

Fingers crossed!

New baby tommorrow.

2009-09-24T10:20:00.004+01:00

If everything goes well, baby Matthew will come into the world tomorrow without any trouble, and I will be a grandfather for the 5th time.

But I am a little bit worried.

Just a little bit...

Matthew's mum, my daughter Jenna, is very overweight and her blood pressure is erratic. She has been in serious pain for the last couple of months. Matthew is a large baby. If all that wasn't enough, Matthew is in the breech position. The midwife does not want to risk turning him. The safest option is a Caesarian section. That's how I know that he will be born tomorrow.

Two of my own children were c-section babies, so this is not a new experience for me. However, I am in England and Jenna is in Ireland, and she's very anxious about the birth. Her anxiety has been building up all week.

I'll be very relieved when it's all over and I'm told that mother and son are fine and resting peacefully.

In the meantime, I can't help worrying.

Just a little bit...

Sometimes agoraphobia doesn't matter!

2009-09-22T23:03:00.010+01:00

On Saturday morning, my protracted negotiations to buy another business seemed to be about to come to a successful conclusion. Lots of time and effort and a significant amount of money had gone into this. On Monday, I would sign the contract.

Then, out of the blue, one of the parties, the man who was going to manage the business for me, wanted more money or he would pull out of the deal. For me, this was a breach of trust and I was prepared to cancel everything. However, on Sunday evening, he was prepared to negotiate - tone down his demands. This led to me spending the evening in a mental turmoil, followed by a sleepless night. If I didn't buy the business, 10 people could lose their jobs. So should I continue with my plans to buy the business? But how could I continue with the purchase if I couldn't trust the future manager?

I lay on the bed, unable to sleep, unable to put the matter out of my mind.

By 4 am, I decided to pull the plug on the whole thing. I got up and sent texts and emails to all concerned and went back to bed - where I was still unable to sleep...

Little did I know, but it was to be the last time I was to lie on that bed.

Next day, three of Marie's friends arrived at our home. Apparently Marie had arranged a bedroom makeover. The bedroom was emptied, the carpet and carpet fitters arrived, the new furniture arrived and all was finished by dinner time. Marie's friends, happy with their work and ostensibly jealous of our new bed, went back to their own homes.

Our new bed looks a lot like this one...

...and believe me, it is very comfortable.

Suddenly I recalled a series of seemingly innocent conversations about what my ideal bedroom would look like/what my ideal bed would be... The bed above, the leather sleigh bed, with the curved head (ideal for sitting up in bed to read/watch the tv etc.), these were the features of my dream bed. All those conversations had been Marie's preparatory work for the makeover. She then put her own touches to it - for example, she had purchased leather bedside tables with tinted frosted glass tops which matched both our curtains and the frosted glass doors of our wardrobes - how long did it take her to find those?

Marie had been saving for this for some months - to give me a surprise.

It worked. I was surprised. And a very nice surprise it was, too.

What a wife! And what a lucky man I am to be married to her!

Medieval times and one good day at school

2009-09-17T22:01:00.003+01:00

Because we had a medieval wedding (in my opinion taking a look at the page on the link is worth the effort), all things medieval have a special appeal to Marie and me. So, when we saw signs advertising a Medieval Fayre at a nearby village, we were both intrigued, and determined that we would have to attend.

That was 3 years ago. Due to its success, the event has become an annual event, but Marie has never felt able to attend.

The Fayre took place last weekend. Marie decided to go to her parents' house alone - by which I mean that she decided to leave the children and me behind. She didn't travel by herself, of course - her father adopted the role of chauffeur for the weekend. So the children and I decided to go and see what was on offer.

The event, held in the grounds of the magnificent Cothelstone Manor, was quite entertaining. The main attraction was the fighting and jousting team. They provided excellent theatre with their medieval fighting re-enactments and jousting sessions. For the latter they used some very well trained horses. Click below to get a utube sample of the action (not my work).

There was also climbing (that's Joseph at the top of that climbing wall), shield painting, archery, a medieval street and encampment, a falconry display, beer and cider tents, tea and cake tents, crafts, food, the ubiquitous bouncy castles and more.

Joseph and Orla joined in many of the activities, and below they are taking part in the pre-jousting parade.

The perfect weather and spectacular setting contributed to a very enjoyable day.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Marie's agoraphobia remains little changed over the last couple of weeks. She has reached a comfortable (for her) plateau.

However, a week ago, she did make the effort to visit Orla's classroom. Now she's in "the big school" she's very proud of her classroom. It was wonderful to see the joy on Orla's face as she was presenting her mum to he teachers and classroom assistants.

Children, dogs & beaches

2009-09-04T20:57:00.008+01:00

I love living near the coast.  As do the children.  Here's why...

During the past week, the children and I visited three different beaches.  They're all within a couple of miles from our home.  None of them are signposted or accessible by car; so the vast majority of tourists holidaying in the area don't even know they exist.

Firstly, we have the 20m waterfall beach.  The waterfall flow depends on the weather.  The kids love to stand underneath it, usually naked, but I forgot to bring towels on the day we visited here.

Then we have the surfing beach.  Only good on windy days - not a very frequent occurrence here.  I haven't tried surfing yet, but if Joseph or Orla were to want to have a go, then I'd join them.

Dogs love our sparsely populated beaches too.  Collette's dogs are boarding with us while she's off to Turkey (with big sister Carla and their husbands).  Dog lovers might enjoy the video clip.  Here the dogs are frolicking in and out of the waves.  Btw, there's a lot of wind noise on the video.

Sadly, Marie has never seen these beaches since they are inaccessible to her.  But maybe one day...

Agoraphobia lessening?

2009-08-29T22:15:00.014+01:00

It's been a tough couple of months.

Marie has mostly been very anxious or depressed or sick or any combination of those three. I have been primary carer to our two children during the school holidays, while coping with the day-to-day running of my business at a peak trading time, dealing with the negotiations and logistics in the acquisition of another business and trying to solve complicated legal issues around the purchase of a small, neglected property. As if all that wasn't enough, we hosted two pairs of Austrian students attending an English language summer school.

I'm exhausted.

But there were lots of good times too. Happy family times. Lots of love from my little children and amazing support from my three older girls. Incredible assistance from my staff. I'm a lucky man.

And...

.......................just this week...

...Marie started to get out and about again, driving her car, walking short distances...

The worst is over, school starts again next week, Marie's rising from depression and we're all looking forward to better times.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We had pretty good weather this summer, so we spent as much time outdoors as I could manage. Here we were sharing an al fresco tea with the first pair of Austrian students. Soon afterwards, they were playing football - quite well! - with Joseph, Orla and me. Marie took the photo.

Even wet days didn't dampen our enthusiasm for the outdoor life - as long as it was warm. We even had a family party and barbeque on a showery afternoon. It was a brilliant afternoon for all!

We visited Lilstock Beach Hut several times. There's a blog about it at...

http://lilstockbeachhut.blogspot.com/

where one can learn more about this.

I took the Austrian students here and they were fascinated!

Beautiful, warm, sunny evenings encourage one to stay at the beach until sunset. The Austrian students loved it!

Orla and her niece Elisha have birthdays in July only 13 days apart. It was logical, since Jenna, her husband and Elisha were on a very rare (and very enjoyable) visit to us in July, to have a combined birthday party. It proved to be a good decision!

Agoraphobia - same old same old...

2009-06-25T23:59:00.005+01:00

Almost all the progress in diminishing Marie's agoraphobia have disappeared. Apart from a small improvement in her diet, all the agoraphobia-busting routines that she had observed have also disappeared, and with them the hope that she's making the effort to change her condition. I have to accept that Marie's inability to follow through with any sort of treatment or routine is part of her problem.

This means that the greater part of childcare - virtually all of it outside our home - continues to fall on me. I enjoy this immensely, but regret the absence of a mum for the children when embarking on excursions. And Marie misses so much - I sometimes wonder if she knows how much of her children's lives are currently inaccessible to her.

For example - here I am, making a fool of myself on the trampoline at Carla's house. Orla thought this was hysterically amusing. Marie wasn't able to get to the trampoline - it's about 10m from the back door of Carla's house.

The children love to "explore" and there is lots of exploration available all around us! Below, the ferns make this deer path seem like a trip through the jungle.

Marie may never see this pebble mound, on a beach a few miles from our home. Click on the picture if you want to read the inscription on the stone.

A dried-up ancient harbour is fascinating for children, who imagine pirate ships going in and out... In reality, all that passed through the entrance to this harbour were small goods ships carrying away the lime which was burned beside the harbour and bringing in coal to use in the lime kiln. But why spoil a good story by introducing the truth?

This is what that harbour looked like about 100 years ago. If you want to see the full-size picture, just click on it.

We have lots of beach activities. The children are never bored on a beach!

Plenty of activities for the children and me through the summer, then. Does Marie really know what she's missing? Perhaps I'm being somewhat pessimistic. Perhaps Marie will recover lost ground.

Nothing would make me happier.

Father's Day 2009

2009-06-23T21:48:00.005+01:00

I had a really good Father's Day, sharing it with most of my family. Of my 7 children, only Jenna (living in Ireland) and Colm (happier at home) were absent, but both had sent Father's Day cards and phoned me. And of my grandchildren, only Elisha (living in Ireland) was missing.

Carla and her husband Jason hosted dinner for the 12 of us. Jason did the roast. Excellent job, Jason! Carla did the side dishes.

Jason surprised me by presenting me with 3 perfectly chilled bottles of my favourite beer - Newcastle Brown Ale - while saying, "My father hasn't been much good to me and you've been like a proper father to me." Jason's father deserted him when he was just a few years old and although they were reunited a few years ago, he doesn't bother with him much. I was both pleased and humbled by this gesture.

Here I am with 5 out of my 7 children.

I had a very enjoyable afternoon and evening.

Father's Day caused me to remember how fortunate I had been with my father, sadly no longer with me. I was also able to reflect on the passing of time and, of course, the unceasing countdown to my own demise. My oldest grandchild, Shannon - at the back of the group in the picture - is 14 now and dating. A great-grandchild within the next 10 years seems a real possibility. Am I that old? Then, having little children and grown-up children simultaneously suddenly seemed somewhat bizarre - unnatural perhaps? In any case, I can't change that - nor would I wish to!

Here the group includes Marie and 3 of my 4 grandchildren. This time next year, all being well, I'll have 2 more grandchildren!

My day actually started in Weymouth, at my Father-in-law's house, so Marie was able to share a little of Father's Day with him. He pretends to prefer his children to ignore Father's Day...but I saw him take his Father's Day cards to his desk for safekeeping!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Joseph's school, Orla's nursery and the local parish church all ignore Father's Day. They observe Mother's Day, of course. This is the secular version of the Christian festival of Mothering Sunday and has been observed for centuries, while Father's Day only started to be observed about 100 years ago. Nevertheless, one would think that some formal acknowledgement of the role that fathers have in the lives of their children would be on the calendar of all religions and educational establishments. I wonder if many others agree with me...

Animal Cruelty

2009-06-18T10:21:00.004+01:00

I'm not much of a campaigner on animal rights issues.

I've always felt that caring about humans is much more important.

But when I came across this video footage, I couldn't ignore it.
It shows the horrors of fur farming in China.

And I mean horrors.

It contains scenes of animals being brutally beaten and skinned alive and then being tossed onto a heap of similarly unfortunate animals, some still alive.
This video is gross and I suggest that you don't watch it unless you have a very strong stomach.
I was unable to watch all of it - and I'm not easily sickened!

You don't have to watch it.
You can help to stop these barbaric practices by-

not buying any fur products. Some fur is farmed in a much more acceptable way (although no fur farming is acceptable to some people) but there is no way of knowing how your fur made its way to your shop.
passing on this information to others
checking out this site where there are other suggestions on how you can help animals such as these.

You don't have to watch this video clip,
but if you want to...just click below.

The journey away from agoraphobia - one step forward and two steps back...

2009-06-13T00:34:00.002+01:00

Marie's agoraphobia has got worse.

There is a perfectly good explanation for this - she had been somewhat erratic about taking her medication, but has been taking it regularly for a week or so now.

Gone is the enthusiastic, vibrant, increasingly optimistic Marie. Instead we have anxious, tired, sick Marie.

Gone is the revised, healthy diet and exercising at the gym. She has been suffering from headaches, feeling nauseous, lethargic, grumpy and vulnerable.

However, from past experience we know that these symptoms will pass.

Hopefully, progress on the agoraphobia front will resume shortly.

The Riding for the Disabled Association Exeter Show

2009-06-10T23:18:00.002+01:00

Colm really enjoys his equestrian pursuits. And he's got real talent, too. At his local RDA branch, he's the star pupil. And at the RDA show in Exeter (where we were blessed with almost perfect weather), he was able to show off his skill competing in the dressage classes.

At Colm's oft-repeated (very oft!) request, I took him to the show, accompanied by two of his sisters, Carla & Collette. (All the rest of his close family were either at work or at school or suffered from agoraphobia.)

It was the 1st time in a long time that his horse had been away from the riding centre, and he was difficult to control. Nevertheless, Colm performed really well and achieved commendable 3rd and 4th places in his classes. Colm's RDA branch were well pleased with this result.

Four of the staff and a fellow resident of Colm's (assisted living) house came to support him. It was a very warm, breathless, sunny day, so I was compelled to take them to a nearby hostelry for a few beers. To their great credit, none of them imbibed excessively. Colm really appreciated his well-chilled shandy too!

A very, very happy Colm returned home. He elicited a promise that I would attend one of his lessons in a couple of weeks' time. His tutor is rescheduling the lesson to accommodate me(! I'm impressed!) as I am normally engaged on the school run when Colm is having his lessons.

A good day was had by all! Roll on the next show!

The lucky father

2009-06-09T00:11:00.020+01:00

There are more pictures of Orla than of Joseph on this blog. Why? Because, unlike his little sister, he's happy just blending into the background.

Because he's happy out of the limelight, his good points often go unnoticed. Academically, he's one of the top performers in his year. Well behaved, he's popular with both teachers and fellow pupils.

Recently, Joseph was "pupil of the week". A good achievement? It's better than that - he's been "pupil of the week" twice this year - the only child in the school to have done that.

Blaze loves Jospeph too. He's kind to the dog, and often takes it for a walk.

I showed Joseph how to brush out Orla's hair without hurting her. He's a great learner.

Joseph is so good at it that Orla can continue to watch Tom and Jerry almost oblivious to his ministrations.

Although he has the normal sibling rows from time to time, Joseph is mostly considerate to his little sister.

In return, she idolises him.

A day out with his sister can be really good fun, even if she is only three!

What do you do on a dull, cold, spring evening?

Why not go to the beach?
If you go to this beach, you'll notice most of the stones are small and flat. Perfect for skimming.

Aim...

Fire...

Look! It's skimming!

When I was a boy, living beside the sea would have seemed like heaven! Now that I live near the coast, I can give my children the childhood environment I would have liked for myself. Joseph loves the beaches around us and is happy to spend hours on them!

Does my description of Joseph sound too good to be true? There's not a day passes that I don't wonder at my good fortune having a son like him.

I hope I still feel that way when he's grown up!

Another small step away from agoraphobia...

2009-06-05T14:15:00.004+01:00

My autistic son - 29th birthday celebration

2009-06-03T23:02:00.005+01:00

Big sister Colleen hosted Colm's 29th birthday party. Although she used all present as guinea pigs to try out her first attempt at Shepherd's Pie, everyone enjoyed themselves and no one has been reported suffering food poisioning.

Colm was in great form and thoroughly enjoyed himself.

Audrey (his enthusiastic girlfriend)came along to share in the celebrations.

Marie baked the birthday cake. It was topped with an impressive confection which was in the style of a picture of a horse. Colm was very impressed with it and insisted that half of it would be put into a container to be shared with the staff of his riding school at a later date.

Joseph enjoyed the cake too...

...as did Orla (I really like this picture).

Now Colm is looking forward to next year when he will start his 3rd decade!

Agoraphobia - a little more progress

2009-05-28T23:57:00.002+01:00

I was very busy last week and this week is no different. One of my key members of staff is on holiday and the tourist season started in earnest last weekend (one of my businesses is very much tourist related). Put together, it has meant that I'm regularly putting in 12 hour days, 7 days a week - a bit of a change for someone who normally, mainly due to childcare duties, works part time! This has meant that Marie has been forced to spend more time looking after the children and less time fighting her anxiety issues. Whatever she does on the anxiety front has had to be done without my assistance. Perhaps that's good?

Joseph is off school this week. It's the spring holiday week. This means that Marie has had some welcome company at home.

I am very pleased to relate that Marie has continued to expand her horizons. Twelve days ago she drove 25 miles, accompanied by the children, ending up in Taunton, our nearest major town (we live in a very rural area). She visited my eldest daughter, Carla. She drove there again this week.

Most days, Marie has been taking Blaze (our dog) to an area suitable for him to run around unfettered. Usually she is accompanied by one or both of our children. While she doesn't walk far from the car herself, she is becoming accustomed to parking in quiet country areas, often without anyone else in sight.

So, not much progress with walking - Marie feels that she needs me to accompany her to try that - but plenty of activity on the driving front. Pretty good, yes?

Next week I'll be back to more or less normal working hours and I'll be able to assist Marie in whatever way she chooses. I hope to report continued progress in due course!

The dream home and agoraphobia

2009-05-26T14:11:00.009+01:00

Steven from the Estate Agent's office opened the heavy front door, and we all piled in.

The house was, externally, an imposing Georgian building and was one of the most prominent buildings in the street. (The picture above does not show the house - but it looks much like it.) Internally, a clumsy conversion to 3 flats and maisonettes and a subsequent conversion back to a single dwelling had destroyed most of the original features. There was a little Georgian cornicing, a couple of corbels, a few ceiling roses here and there, and most of the skirting boards and door surrounds were intact. A second staircase had been added. The building's last owners, from whom it had been repossessed by their bank, had had bizarre taste, so the décor was very unflattering.

When I learned that it was for sale, I made an appointment to look around it as soon as possible. Although the house needed major refurbishment and a total makeover, its construction was sound and all it needed to make it immediately habitable was to have the electrical wiring renewed. Later it would need a new kitchen, new bathrooms and improved central heating. I would want to replace the cornicing on the ground floor hallway and reception rooms and probably install some recycled period fireplaces. I could see that there was tremendous potential for a comfortable family home big enough to accommodate the frequent visits by my large family. I could have a decent sized office, too. As a bonus, there was a two-storey building in the garden (probably stables with a groom's room above) with its own access to the street, which was an easy conversion to a maisonette, thus providing a useful income while not compromising the family's privacy. When I was a younger man, I bought, renovated and sold three houses. When I moved into my current home, I made substantial changes to the interior. I knew that I would enjoy restoring this fine dwelling.

That was a few days ago. When I described it to Marie, she was keen to see it too. Now in the house, Marie clutched my arm as if she was in mortal danger while Steven pointed out the various remaining features. She managed to make it up one floor and gave the 4 bedrooms there a cursory inspection, but she was obviously uncomfortable and couldn't wait to get down to the ground floor again. The top floor of the building was totally inaccessible to her. In contrast, Joseph and Orla assumed exploration mode and reported what they saw to Marie and me. They were fascinated with the two staircases - they could run up one and down the other... Despite her uneasiness in the house, Marie could also appreciate its potential.

Back home, Marie immediately consulted the internet for ideas on kitchens and Georgian living room interiors. Then Georgian reproduction furniture. And bathrooms... She checked out colour schemes and light fittings. She pored over the house's floor plans, suggesting what use each of the rooms could have. We went back one day to inspect the garden in greater detail.

I told Marie that it was up to her to decide if we would buy the house. On the plus side, it would be the first home that we had chosen together. Restoring it would also be a joint project. On the negative side, it would use up all our financial resources for a few years. I left her to mull it over.

To my surprise, she rang the agent a couple of days later and made an offer on the property. She had made her decision. It would be the perfect dream home. She really wanted us to live there!

A week later, she reversed her decision. Although she knew that she would become accustomed to the new house, she had become anxious about how much effort that would take. Staying put was a much easier option.

This is how much agoraphobia controls Marie - she has just lost her dream home.

Cervical smear test and McDonald's

2009-05-16T09:35:00.004+01:00

"Ok Marie, just lie there and open your legs wide. This is going to feel embarrassing, just like men get embarrassed when they expose their bits." Marie's favourite doctor ("just call me Caroline") was talking non-stop to her in a "what-a-lovely-time-we're-going-to-have" over-the-top cheerful tone, preparing Marie for her cervical smear test. Marie had asked me to stay with her to minimise her anxiety.

I suspect that the last bit of her patter was added because I was also in the room. Alas, this shows that she has little understanding of what embarrasses men.

This first time I exposed my genitalia to a Health Professional was at school, when I was 13. Along with the rest of the boys from my class, I had to strip down to my underpants and stand in a line. A nurse approached each boy in turn, pulled down his underpants and felt his testicles (or, I suppose, noticed their absence). This was, I recall, mildly embarrassing, but the worst feeling was fear. The vast majority of us had never had our genitals touched by anyone other than ourselves, so the anticipation of a pretty nurse in her early 20's touching us caused much adolescent giggling - and FEAR. We were all terrified that we would have an erection. Now that would have been embarrassing!

In the boys' changing rooms at school, exposing one's genitalia was almost de rigeur; while in public gyms and swimming pools, men and boys, totally naked, their bits flapping and slapping, sauntered around comfortably and unselfconsciously.

No, dear doctor - sorry, I mean Caroline - real embarrassment for a man would be to have to profess his love for his wife (or girlfriend/boyfriend) in public. He would much prefer to expose his private parts to the crowd at Wembley Stadium than expose his feelings!

But I digress.

"You can hold Marie's hand," Caroline told me.

Not likely! Marie had both hands poised for emergency action. They were on a hair-trigger, waiting for the slightest reason to protect her lady-bits.

"Just relax," Caroline instructed Marie, "this will be over in no time at all."

Relax? While having foreign objects inserted, to carry out an unknown procedure? Once, at a sexual health clinic, I had a foreign object inserted into my penis to take a swab. I was told to relax, too. Not possible!

It seemed that Caroline was taking most of the morning. It was like she was looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. However, she was still continuing with her cheerful chatter...

"That cervix seems to be hiding."
"Mmmm, we'll look over here."
"How about over here?"
"Ah, there it is!"
"Ooops, it's tilted a bit."
"Mmmm, it's tilted a lot."
"Ah, I've got it!"
"No, not yet..."

Eventually it was all over. Caroline complimented Marie on her bravery in making it to the doctor's surgery for the first time in 5 years (yeay!), and coping with her cervical smear test in an admirable way.

Also, this week, Marie managed to get into Orla's nursery again!

Marie drove to the nearest McDonald's (9 miles) and bought the children and herself milkshakes!

Yes, it's all good news this week.