My Wife Has Agoraphobia!

The Linden Method & Marie - Part III - The Linden Method Retreat

2011-09-11T06:37:00.000+01:00

As we travelled to The Elms Hotel near Kidderminster, Marie was simultaneously exhilarated and terrified. As usual, her head was full of "what if" questions, but there was also the exciting prospect of soon being, for the first time in about 15 years, anxiety free.

ARRIVAL

Marie had contacted Charles Linden and he had arranged to meet her at the hotel at 1.00 pm to help her to get into the hotel. Marie wanted to arrive before anyone else so that if she "freaked out" none of the other retreat clients would witness it. However, when we arrived at the hotel - an hour early - we discovered that we could park the car close to the entrance. Marie was able to make her way up the path to the main doors, but that was as far as she could get. Soon afterwards Charles' wife Beth arrived and helped Marie to get to get into the building and later to our 1st floor bedroom - no mean feat, I assure you. She had panic attacks all the way up the grand staircase. There is no way on this earth I could have cajoled Marie there! Once we settled into the room, Marie was able to go up and down the stairs and to all the rooms used during the retreat for the duration of our stay. Charles did arrive - especially to meet Marie - but his help wasn't required.

THE CLIENTS

I won't, of course, reveal anything about the clients which could lead to anyone identifying them.

Bearing in mind the cost of the retreat and the type of the venue, the clients were, as one would expect, predominantly wealthy or the dependants of wealthy families. They came from all over the United Kingdom. Most of the clients were accompanied by family members. Family members were mostly spouses or mothers. All the clients had different types of anxiety but all had in common the experience of having panic attacks. Clients were predominantly young to middle-aged and only one was male (!). Most, but not all, of the clients had purchased The Linden Method. None - yes, none - of the clients I spoke to had read/watched/listened to all of the contents of The Linden Method and many hadn't bothered to read it at all. And not one client had really tried to follow The Linden Method before attending the retreat. Most were expecting to leave the retreat cured or, at least, mostly cured. At least one of the clients had serious mental problems.

All the clients and most of the family members were kind, considerate and caring people. Despite their disparate backgrounds, they mixed exceptionally well and were eager to share helpful tips.

THE TEAM

My descriptions are, of course, just my opinion and as such cannot be truly objective. They are not meant to offend.

Holding it all together was the very capable Beth Linden. Beth was friendly, likeable, attractive and impeccably coiffed. Her photos on the various Linden Method sites don't do her justice. She was never condescending nor patronising. She was firm and assertive when required. At the retreat, she was expensively dressed, but not ostentatiously so. Her outfits were perfect for the setting - neither too formal nor too casual. Smiling often she flashed a set of Hollywood-style, impossibly bright, white, perfect teeth - usually indicative of expensive, extensive dental treatment.

"Chief Educator" Jenny Saunders MSc was extremely knowledgeable not only about The Linden Method, but also about the areas peripheral to it. She was able to provide comprehensive, informed answers to the vast majority of queries; and where her knowledge was incomplete, she wisely said so and didn't speculate. Her presentations were informative but fell short of being oratorical gems. However, she is better in real life than she is on The Linden Method's DVDs.

Retreat Host Gareth Dore is a 20-something former anxiety sufferer. His job appeared to be (I said "appeared to be" because neither he nor any team member actually explained what his function was) to keep everyone cheerful and entertain the clients during the quiet moments such as mealtimes and evenings. He is quite good at being the life and soul of the party, but this tended to divide the clients into two groups - those who wanted to party (mainly the younger clients and their partners) and those who were of a quieter disposition. Gareth was asked about how anxiety had affected him and how he became anxiety free. He told us that at its worst, his anxiety had made him become a house-bound agoraphobic. He tackled this using what is commonly called the exposure method: he made himself go to his front door; when he was comfortable doing that, he made himself open the door; next he tackled going down the drive, then he drove to the end of the road, then a bit further...etc. Oddly there was no mention of The Linden Method as an aid to his escape from anxiety, but we know that he definitely purchased it. He told us that he didn't understand it, so he contacted Charles Linden and asked him to explain it to him. He went to The Linden Centre, which is near to his home, where Charles explained what was in the book. Gareth was impressed and thought that it would be a good idea to organise sessions for others to learn about The Linden Method from people rather than from the book. He suggested the idea of The Linden Method retreats to Charles and Charles agreed to run them. This is, apparently, why Gareth is the retreat host.

Rob Holcrofd presented Postural Empowerment and relaxation techniques. According to Marie his presentations were entertaining, funny and useful. She still thinks about her posture, so some of what he taught has stuck.

Jackie Donkin Bsc was excellent in imparting advice on one's diet. She showed how much sugar is in common foods and snacks (and shocked most with this information) and suggested alternatives. Charles mentions diet in some depth in The Linden Method and it was encouraging to hear a nutritionist endorse his recommendations.

Alan Smith took the meditation session. The general impression was that he was a very nice man. However, he was bizarre. He looked bizarre, with a permanent smile on his smooth ruddy face and his near-monotone, soft, happy voice (you had to listen very carefully to hear what he was saying) was just as bizarre. He was the most calm, chilled-out person I have ever met. Some clients and partners fell asleep during the first half of his session, which was a lecture on the various types of meditation and why anyone would bother to meditate. Several people left the room. Alan was fond of the phrase "give yourself a gift" - and the gift was a quiet time, a time to meditate. The second half of the session was a period of meditation, where he used the same tone of voice to encourage us to meditate. I can state without equivocation that this session was the least successful during the retreat.

THE VENUE

While we were at the retreat there were few other guests at the hotel. Perhaps indicative that the accommodation was poor value for money?

The Elms is a great looking period building with good, well managed grounds and, of course, a spa. There's also a gym and swimming pool. The rooms are interesting and fully kitted-out, but there was no air conditioning and the room could get uncomfortably hot.

We were unlucky. Others were happy with their rooms, but our room had a faulty toilet and no shower mat. I found out about the missing shower mat when I slipped and nearly fell out of the bath, much to Marie's amusement. A shower mat was provided next day by a very apologetic manager. No such luck with the toilet. It took 3 days to repair it: all it needed was a £5 part. The toilet made an awful noise which also disturbed the family in the room next door, which could be controlled by flushing it. However, getting up a couple of times during the night to flush the toilet is not conducive to having a pleasant stay. We were offered another - and better - room, but it was on the 2nd floor and inaccessible to Marie. A partial refund would have been a nice gesture but it was unforthcoming.

The Elms boasts about its great food and the fact that many of the vegetables are grown in its own garden. I found the food to be, on average, disappointing and all of the other clients I spoke to agreed. Retreat clients were not offered the hotel's full menu. Instead there was a very limited choice of dishes. The menu was unexciting and unadventurous. Gareth repeatedly told us all about how good the braised beef was, but when in due course it was served it was almost inedible and most diners left it on the side of their plates. The next day we were treated to an excellent spicy Mediterranean dish, so the chef can obviously cook well on his good days.

The rooms which were used for The Linden Method seminars were light and airy and acoustically good. Very much fit for purpose. There were plenty of comfortable settees and armchairs to accommodate all the clients' partners. Tea and coffee were almost always available, frequently accompanied by delicious home-baked shortbread or speciality bread.

Was the venue good for the retreat? Despite the hot rooms and not-so-good food (which, of course, might usually be much better...the regular chef was on his holidays/wasn't feeling very well etc...), the quiet, relaxed atmosphere, superb, friendly staff and the large, light, airy, comfortable seminar rooms provide excellent surroundings for clients of the retreat.

But if I'm in the Kidderminster area looking for good accommodation, I'll give The Elms a miss.

THE PROGRAMME

You can see the programme in the image opposite (click to enlarge). The programme offers busy, productive days and relaxing, convivial evenings. By the end of the retreat, The Linden Method will have been comprehensively explained.

The four days/three nights format works well and it offers education in an unhurried, pleasing way. The retreat could probably be adapted for a three days/two nights format without losing much content, although the shorter time-frame would mean that the overall experience was less relaxing.

Marie liked all of the programme except the meditation session. Her most enjoyable session was the one-to-one session with The Great Man. Accompanied by Charles she was able to walk around the grounds at The Elms. She was able to walk across the immense front lawn without panic. Proof indeed that it is possible to overcome anxiety.

I particularly liked the Partners/Carers Only session. As followers of this blog will be aware, Marie has tried almost all the available treatments and therapies in the market as well as what the National Health Service has to offer. None of them - absolutely none of them - involve partners or carers. And I have asked for help...and received none.

I said to a NHS psychiatrist "I don't know what to do for the best regarding Marie. I'm worried that I may be doing all the wrong things and hindering her progress!"

And the psychiatrist's reply? "Yes, I can see that it must be difficult for you." That's all I got. Helpful? Hardly!

The Partners/Carers Only session was perfectly timed at two hours. Basically it told us what we have to do to support our anxious loved ones, and why. And what we shouldn't do, the things that make anxiety grow. There was lots of excellent advice based on TLM principles. I was able to see how, in the early days, I had actually helped Marie to increase her anxiety!

Now the problem with a one-size-fits-all approach is that it rarely does. And it's the same with The Linden Method's advice for partners and carers. I cannot "Treat Marie the same way as I would treat a non-anxious person." I have got young children and I cannot do anything which would adversly affect them. I can't say "If you want food, get it yourself" because the children need to be fed. I can't let the children see me leave their mother screaming in the middle of a panic attack - I've got to back and calm her down/cancel going out. Despite this, I felt that the session was worth every minute. Well done, TLM, for including partners and carers!

The main criticism I have of the programme is the lack of supervision of the group's leisure time. On the last evening, the doubters and dismissers were given free reign to voice their pessimism, tangibly changing the atmosphere. I feel that retaining a positive atmosphere at all times is essential. Engendering seeds of doubt can only do damage. Yet Gareth seemed unable or unwilling to try too steer the group away from this destructive line of conversation. An effective host would have gently, almost imperceptibly changed the subject matter to happier topics.

THE VERDICT?
The advertising and promotion of the retreat tends to give the impression that it offers an instant cure for anxiety sufferers. That is, to say the least, unfortunate. Yes, I know that if you read all the splurge carefully, you will see that it does not offer you that. But many of the clients at the retreat I attended expected to be going home, cured. Marie expected to be going home to get ready for a family holiday in Spain.

It doesn't provide an instant cure. There is no instant cure.

But for some, the retreat will give them the tools to transform their lives for the better. It will give them hope that they can beat anxiety. It will equip their partners/carers with a set of aids to help the affected loved one. For these people, it will be worth every penny.

DEPARTURE
Friday's afternoon session was a disappointment. Some of the clients left early, the question and answer session never took place and the group photo didn't happen.

Nevertheless, as Marie toured pleasant English countryside bathed in beautiful late spring sunshine on our way home, she was a changed person. No, there was no miraculous cure; but there was a feeling, a certainty that everything had changed for the better. Tomorrow, anxiety would be diminished. Life was going to get better.

The Linden Method & Marie - Part II

2011-08-14T13:02:00.002+01:00

When I decided to move to England in 1994, I chose the location and bought a business there. Along with the business came a full complement of fine staff and one of these was Amy, a highly intelligent, very competent lady in her 50's with decades of experience. In time, I surrendered the day-to-day running of the business into her capable hands. When Marie came on the scene, the two of them became close friends, despite the age difference. They would swap intimacies while Amy was at work and Marie would help out in my business. Then, just after last Christmas, Amy decided to retire. This caused me some logistical problems, of course, but for Marie the loss of her close friend was a big blow. She rarely visited my business premises, became pretty much housebound and depression set in.

Marie became even more set on going on The Linden Retreat. However, her life at that time consisted of her sleeping all morning and then spending most of the rest of the day on Facebook. I couldn't see the point of her going to The Linden Retreat if she couldn't be bothered to get up and see our children before they went to school or put them to bed at night. So I made a deal with her - if she followed the Linden Method at home for a while, then I would go to The Retreat with her.

So she began to follow Charles Linden's 9 pillars - or at least, some of them. She ordered up food to follow Charles' dietary suggestions. Her waking/sleeping times regularised. After a while, she was out driving in her car again - only short trips, but better than nothing. Marie began to visit some (small) shops again. She started spending some time in the business. Our house was cleaner, tidier and the children thrived on the extra attention being heaped on them. Life was much better for all of us.

And Marie had a goal! She wanted to go on holiday with me and the children. (I had already booked a holiday in Spain.) She wanted to go to Barcelona! I knew that Marie was really serious about this when she applied for a passport. Bringing Marie to Barcelona with us would be easy for me. I had booked a holiday home, not a hotel; and there was a hire car to transport us around. All I had to do was book an extra seat on the planes.

So I agreed to take Marie on The Linden Retreat in June. (She didn't feel able to go without me.) We booked the retreat and I organised staff to run the business in my absence. I felt that the children would be bored at The Retreat's venue, The Elms Hotel & Spa in Worcestershire, so I arranged childcare.

But a problem arose. When Amy decided to retire, I passed on her duties to May, my next-most-experienced member of staff. She was the one who would be looking after business while I went with Marie to The Retreat and when I went to Spain in July. May decided that she wanted to move home, back to the area where she spent her childhood and where several of her family members still lived. She gave me a month's notice to quit. And the date she was leaving? Right in the middle of The Retreat. Without competent staff, I couldn't go anywhere.

I successfully recruited new staff. But there was no way that they would be sufficiently trained to be left on their own before Marie and I left for The Retreat. With only a few days to go before The Retreat, I realised that I would have to cancel all my plans - always a risk when you run your own business. Marie was, understandably, very upset. The children weren't too happy either, looking at the possibility that our holiday in Spain would be cancelled.

Then Stephanie contacted me. Stephanie manages one of my branches. She offered to supervise my business while I was away, and had already organised staff to cover her absence at her branch. What a hero!

So, 48 hours later, Marie and I set off on the 3-hour drive to rural Worcestershire. Marie was going on The Retreat!

The Linden Method & Marie - Part I

2011-08-06T01:34:00.002+01:00

Back to the summer of 2010. Marie was pretty down, but we had a new resident to make her life more interesting.

Regular readers will know that Marie & I are hosts to Austrian students every summer. They attend a two-week summer school where they improve their knowledge of the English language and also, from sharing life with a local family, learn about English culture. Our students are usually girls. One girl, who had stayed with us a few years ago, wrote to ask if she could stay with us for a couple months. I'll call her Anna. Further investigation revealed that, out of the blue, Anna's father had left her mother for another woman. Her mother was both devastated by this unexpected failure in her marriage and justifiably angry about the months of deceit from her spouse. Foe Anna, a break from the family home was required. Anna's mother supported this temporary absence of her daughter and once I had sorted out all the legal, social, medical and educational matters, we had a teenage foster daughter. Anna stayed until Christmas, twice as long as originally planned, until her mother wanted her to return home.

Having a foster daughter affected Marie in two ways. Firstly, she had a new companion, someone to chat to at length. But secondly, she became increasingly aware how much she was missing due her confinement to our home. Not only was I the only one who shared our children's out-of-home activities, but I was also now the only one who shared Anna's out-of-home activities. Marie began to look for ways to diminish her agoraphobia. When she found out that Charles Linden was on Facebook, she revived her interest in The Linden Method.

We have had The Linden Method in our home since 2005. And in 2009, we visited the Great Man himself at his office in Kidderminster. He was able to make Marie feel confident enough to do much, much more than usual - a capability with which I cannot compete. Marie bought another copy of The Linden Method (the original one is seriously dog-eared and some of the CD's etc. are missing). His book became Marie's bible and became a necessary item in her handbag. She listened to his CDs regularly. She was a regular contributor on his Facebook wall.

But there was little improvement in her condition.

Around November, an agoraphobic friend asked Marie why, if The Linden Method was the answer to agoraphobia, she wasn't cured already? Revealingly, Marie answered that she didn't have enough incentive to follow the programme!

This confirmed what I had believed for quite a while - I am Marie's worst enemy (in relation to agoraphobia only!). I have removed the need for her to work, look after the children, do the shopping, plan for the future, walk anywhere... Her life is comfortable enough for her to feel it unnecessary to do what it takes to tackle her agoraphobia.

Things changed towards the end of 2010. Marie had had enough of depression and constant anxiety. She still believed that The Linden Method was her way out of agoraphobia, but she now believed that she needed his latest (at that time) aid for anxiety sufferers.

She needed The Linden Method Retreat. And to accede, I needed to find about £4,000!*

* The Linden Method Retreat cost £2,700 at that time. Other expenses which contribute to the total cost are travelling and subsistence expenses, extra staff wages and childcare costs.

Marie's Agoraphobia, Monophobia & OCD - review of 2010

2011-07-17T23:11:00.003+01:00

This post is somewhat overdue...

Unfortunately Marie's condition at the start of 2011 was not significantly different to what was stated in my review of 2009.

Well, that didn't take long, but now the explanation for my prolonged absence from blogging.

First of all, please let me apologise to my regular readers. There is no adequate excuse for just "disappearing" without a word of explanation. I have felt guilty about not explaining why I had stopped blogging and visiting the blogs of my blogging friends. However, belatedly, below are the reasons for my absence.

Soon after my last post, over a year ago, I and my two little children went to the South of France for a holiday. Marie, of course, didn't go. We had a very enjoyable time.

When we returned, Marie entered a period of depression. It was to last, on and off, for the rest of the year.

I had a non-functioning but needy wife, two little children, an autistic son, four adult daughters, six grandchildren, 2 lots of Austrian students, my voluntary work at our local school and a growing business with 14 permanent staff and some casual employees to look after. And then the 2nd most important staff member unexpectedly retired...

I was busy!

No time for blogging.

And after a while, I lost the desire to blog. Even if I had had the time to blog, what would I say? Marie's not doing very well...She's still not doing very well..She's a little better...She's a little worse... I didn't feel that I had much to say of any significance.

Also, I became very tired.

However, I have some news for everyone. Not good news, exactly, but it might be of interest to some. During the course of 2010, Marie became more and more interested in The Linden Method. (Btw, I have no connection to Charles Linden or his organisation/business and I receive no payment for the preceding link or for mentioning The Linden Method.) She became convinced that it was her way out of her anxiety-controlled existence. And next time I have an hour or two to spare, I'll tell you about it.

And the winner is...Anxiety!

2010-05-04T00:32:00.002+01:00

Things aren't so good around here.  Marie's anxiety level is about exploding level. She is totally housebound now.  She is irritable and hasn't much time for our children, our home or me.

Marie and anxiety have been having a battle for quite a while.  And the winner is...well, you know who... 

After a couple of months of this, I've realised that I am unable to  cope with looking after the children, Marie, my business and the  house.  I've been exhausted and my business has suffered.  I have excellent employees and I feel a responsibility towards them to maintain their employment.  So we've hired some domestic help.  This has freed up time for me to catch up with my  business affairs. 

I gave Marie as much space as I could over the last several weeks.  At last, this week, she came to me, and told me, tearfully, just how bad she felt.  And how she couldn't face living like this forever. She didn't know if she was going mad, or whether her medication was adversely affecting her.  We contacted contacted our family doctor and she agreed that Marie should discontinue her medication.  After a few weeks, if she still feels that she needs medication, we can discuss the alternatives with her.

Our agoraphobic neighbours have been terrific in offering assistance when requested.

Marie is fighting back.

Anxiety may have won the battle, but it hasn't won the war.

Mingling with Marie's Mental Mates at the Party for Panicky People - second succesful Saturday session

2010-04-20T23:59:00.001+01:00

Sorry. The long title is just me having a bit of fun with alliteration. Just a little bit of self indulgence...

On Saturday evening, Marie hosted her second party for anxiety sufferers and their partners. The first party (you can read about it here) was last December. Our fourteen guests came from all over the South of England - five of them travelled more than three hours to get here! Three stayed the weekend with us.

Most of our guests had never visited the Exmoor area before, and they were very impressed with the scenery and relaxed ambiance of the area. The idyllic weather helped, of course.

What a great party it was! It was a great bunch of people relaxing in the knowledge that if they felt a bit panicky, no one would look on them as nutters or weirdos. Some guests arrived in time for dinner, while others came just afterwards and the gentle revelling continued until about 1.30 am. No one got too drunk, noisy, belligerent or annoying. The five children also present got on together incredibly well and were no trouble.

Our weekend guests, whom Marie had met through a chatroom, were really nice folks and I expect that we'll see a lot more of them.

I have come to the conclusion - albeit in an unscientific manner - that panicky people are a nicer bunch of people than the "normal" types!

On Safari?

2010-04-13T12:02:00.001+01:00

Marie and I visited Longleat Safari Park during our honeymoon, 4 years ago. She has often mentioned revisiting it in the intervening years. However, organising a trip with an agoraphobia sufferer while accommodating your family requires some organising – especially when the weather is also a consideration. However, on Sunday all things were favourable and Marie, our two children Joseph and Orla, my grandson Reece, my adult daughter Colleen and I made the journey to Longleat. (What would I do without a car that seats up to 7 persons?)

One of the monkeys at Lonleat has contracted Simean Herpes B virus. How this happened is a mystery since it is a closed community; but the monkey park – arguably the most popular part of the safari park, particularly with children – was closed.

Despite missing the monkeys, we had an enjoyable drive through the park. We were lucky to have a lioness stroll right in front of our car. Normally all you can see are the prides lazing some distance away. Then 2 wolves observed us for a while from very close quarters – right beside our car! Again, an unusual occurrence. We picnicked beside the wallabies and the warthogs. It wasn't the warmest of days, but bright sunshine and just the faintest of breezes made the weather acceptable for an al fresco lunch.

Afterwards, Colleen took the children to see all the other attractions in the Longleat estate except Longleat House itself, which, best example of Elizabethan architecture or not, would have been boring for the children. Meanwhile, Marie and I drove around the nearby picturesque villages and rested in a sunny forest glade until it was time to collect the tired and happy little ones.

For Marie, it was an extremely enjoyable day – a change from her normal diet of going from room to room at home! Every one else had a great time too...except that I would have preferred to have joined the children going around the other attractions... However, I was extremely grateful to Colleen. Without her, the children's day would have not been nearly so enjoyable – indeed, it is doubtful that we would have made the trip at all.

The Riverdance show

2010-04-08T23:59:00.012+01:00

Last night I went to see Riverdance at the Bristol Hippodrome.

This famous show has been touring the world since 1995 and this year it is presenting its farewell tour. I thought that I had better see it while I could. I went with daughters Colleen and Collette and much to my surprise Joseph wanted to see the show too (I had showed him clips on You Tube).

But the person I most wanted to take to the show was unable to go. That person wasn't, on this occasion, my dear wife Marie (although I would have liked to have taken her too, but her agoraphobia won't let her venture into any theatre just now). No, on this occasion I wished that my dad could have gone with me. My father was an amazing person and parent, and I'll It was a show that he had always planned on seeing, but unfortunately he died without realising that ambition. Because of this, my enjoyment of the show was tinged with sadness. My daughters felt a little like this too, because they were both very fond of their grandfather.

It was a great show, and like the rest of us, Joseph really enjoyed it. Being only 8 years old, I was quite impressed by the interest that he showed in the show.

Here's a recent clip of the show in passable quality. It lasts nearly 9 minutes and starts off with a little flamenco style dancing, followed by the two principle dancers. The whole troupe assembles for the last 3 or so minutes.

Enjoy.

Easter 2010

2010-04-05T23:59:00.002+01:00

We all had a good Easter weekend.

Late on Thursday evening you would have found Marie, the children, Blaze and me on the 2-hour drive to Weymouth and Marie's parents. I always do longer drives at the children's bedtime: they go to sleep and don't get bored; Marie and I have a peaceful journey.

Friday morning's weather was torrential rain at first, but it brightened up and by mid morning it was okay to go for a walk. Blaze and I went to the beach and then followed the Portland Bay coast line for 1½ miles or so to Weymouth harbour.

I was able to see close up the surprising amount of coastal erosion occurring in this relatively sheltered coast. Also surprising is the fact that Spring is nowhere to be seen yet.

The walk lasted about 2½ hours and was the first "me" time I've had in over 3 weeks!

Back at Marie's parents' house an elaborate Easter egg hunt was under way, with Marie's 2 sisters' children joining in. This was followed by a veritable family feast. There was a great atmosphere, unlike Marie's last visit here, and a great time was had by all.

At bedtime we went on the road again, driving back home - I had to work next day and my grandson Lucas was coming to stay for the day and night.

As usual, having Lucas stay with us was very enjoyable. He constantly gurgles and smiles now. Orla's behaviour towards him is unusally tender for a girl of her age and was a joy to behold.

Easter Sunday's socialising started early when Collette turned up with her husband and Colm. I hadn't told Colm that he would be visiting us that day, so he was pleasantly surprised and thanked me every few minutes! Colleen arrived mid morning, Easter eggs were distributed (my adult daughters still like to receive eggs at Easter) and soon we were sharing lunch. Carla and her family visited in the afternoon and we all shared dinner (leg of pork which I had been slow cooking for 6 hours...mmmm, delicious!). The adults over indulged in food and desserts and the children over indulged in chocolate - i.e. everyone had a great time!

My ex-wife eventually called at Collette's house today to see her 1st grandchild. Lucas is 11 weeks old now, so she hasn't exactly been in a rush to see him. Ah well - it has been her loss. Colleen reluctantly called to see her mother too; and Colm called to get some money for a football shirt! Although the visit was somewhat awkward, being a rarity, it also sort of completed a very family oriented Easter.

Marie is sleeping a little less now, but in other areas not much has changed. (Of course, any improvement, no matter how slight, is very welcome!) However the holiday season has helped me to recharge my batteries and I don't feel so exhausted. In fact, life is pretty good at the moment.

All for nothing

2010-04-03T11:55:00.001+01:00

When Sue met Sam, he was working in the building trade. She was a civil servant, working in the financial department. Their romance was opposed by both of their families. Sue's family felt that Sam, as a building worker, was beneath her socially: Sam's family thought that Sue was too "stuck up" for him - this opinion based on the fact that she was well educated. Nevertheless, the relationship bloomed and they married within a year.

Their first home was a dilapidated, tiny house, but Sue had ambition and Sam was happy to follow her lead. They renovated the house and saved hard for several years. Sam became a supervisor in the building firm for which he worked.

A small, local kitchen installation company became available for purchase, and Sue saw it as an opportunity for the couple to improve their standing. Sam knew little about kitchen fitting, but he was prepared to learn, and happy to put in long hours. His supervisory experience was very useful and his cheerful, affable disposition made him a natural salesman without the need to use guile. Sue continued to work in the civil service and looked after the company's books in the evenings. The business grew steadily.

Sam and Sue decided to postpone starting a family until they became financially secure. Twenty years later, Sue had given up her civil service career to work full-time in their business and it was going well. They had moved into a modest detached home (close to my home) and it was time to start their family. A baby boy duly appeared.

The little boy didn't interfere very much with their business. Sam and Sue lived quite frugally and invested their excess cash in property. Local property wasn't terribly lucrative, so they moved their money to property in the rapidly growing USA market.

Sam worked around 10 hours a day, 6 days a week. His only recreation was his weekly snooker night. Sue only worked about 40 hours, but she also looked after the family home and most of their son's needs. There wasn't much of a social life - they were focussed on saving for their retirement and for their son's future.

The last few years haven't been so good. The USA property market more or less collapsed and their son rejected their lifestyle and moved to a squat in London. They rarely see him. Sue and Sam, approaching their chosen retirement date, seemed to have lost some of their ambition.

A few months ago, Sam had a heart attack. He seemed to recover, but another heart attack, last week, proved fatal. Sue claims that her life is over too. All those years of struggle and self denial - it was for nothing, Sue told me. Just a waste of 40 years.

I feel really sorry for Sue, but I hope that she will find it possible to create a new and different life for herself. After all, she might have another 30 years or so to live.

Sam and Sue's story has made me even more determined to take as much pleasure as possible from every day. Plan a little for the future, but not too much. Try to avoid regrets in later years.

And teach my children and grandchildren to do the same.

An eventful week

2010-03-28T23:55:00.005+01:00

One week ago, Marie took the kids for a short trip in her car.

She hasn't driven or left the house without me since. Her days are almost exclusively filled with eating, sleeping and the internet.

For the rest of us, family life continues relentlessly.

Around lunchtime on Tuesday, I got a call from Orla's school. I was to come immediately to collect her. She had fallen in the playground and was a bit upset.

I arrived at the school to find Orla crying hysterically in the First Aid room, her hand firmly clamped over her mouth. Her school uniform was drenched in blood, she had a bruised eyebrow, bruised cheek, a scraped hand and a cut knee. She wouldn't let anyone inspect her mouth, so the first aid lady didn't know what damage had been done there.

I got Orla home and simply nursed her for the next hour and a half, after which she became more settled and let me look tentatively at her mouth. She had pretty much mashed up the inside of her lips and it looked as if a couple of teeth had been damaged. Later on, I was able to clean her and change her clothes. I fed her ice cream (she wasn't able to eat or drink) and put her to bed.

She looked so pitiful and vulnerable, sleeping.

On Wednesday evening, Joseph and a team from his school swam for charity. He swam a creditable 250m (about 275 yds) in a 40 minute session, while Orla (who has been stuck to me like glue all week) and I looked on. His enthusiasm made me very proud of him.

On Friday morning, Joseph went on a 3 day school trip with a group from his school. I collected him this evening. His teacher told me that he had been a pleasure to have on the trip, and he had got an award for his skills as a team leader and for his consistent good manners. Again he made me proud!

While Joseph was away, Orla and I had spent a lot of time together - just the two of us. It was just what she needed after her terrible tumble. Yesterday afternoon she felt well enough to go to a school friend's birthday party, although she insisted that I stay with her. Her friend's mum, looking with horror at Orla's bruised face and swollen lips, instructed the other little girls to be careful not to hurt her; the instructions were duly followed.

Today, most of Orla's scabs came away and although still swollen, she is definitely looking a lot better. She is to attend the dentist tomorrow to see what can be done about her damaged teeth after which she will go to school again.

So...an eventful week - both good and bad events - but I hope that this week will be quieter. And it would be nice if Marie could improve a little too!

Marie and Lucas

2010-03-21T23:59:00.001Z

The Marie that the children and I know and love came back to visit today. It seemed the appropriate time to chat about her current state of mind.

It seems that Marie, having achieved so much during her London trip, realised how much she had yet to achieve to have a "normal" life. She looked at the big picture, and its vastness daunted her. It seemed to her that there was no point in getting up and fighting agoraphobia each day. Her virtual world, in which she is as able as anyone else, held more appeal than her physical world.

In other words, depression had set in.

She feels stronger now. Things will, she assured me, improve.

Just to prove the point, she took the children out for a short trip in her car. It was the first time she has got into her car since her return from London.

I should have recognised Marie's depression, but sometimes I'm so busy in the day-to-day business of running the family that I can't see beyond it. Marie's depressions rarely last long, and there is no reason to suppose that this one will be any different.

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

Youngest grandson Lucas, about 10 weeks old now, spent Saturday evening, night and all of this morning with us while his parents had some well-deserved time to themselves. Marie insisted on doing the overnight feeds, and I didn't to argue with her too much about this!!

Lucas is a happy, content little lad who is spending more and more time looking around him, observing his environment. He has started to smile, laugh and gurgle now. He brought a happy aura with him. Orla couldn't get enough of this real live doll and, truthfully, she was gentle and careful with him.

Lucas doesn't realise it, but his presence made Marie happier and I am sure that he contributed significantly to her depression easing.

Thanks, Lucas!

The panic party - before and after

2010-03-19T11:59:00.008Z

In my Rollercoaster Agoraphobia post, just over two weeks ago, I related how Marie's positive attitude was helping her to expand the number and types of activities she was comfortable doing.

This continued.

Eleven days ago, Marie went to her friend's house near London to stay for a few day. I stayed at home with the children. Anticipatory anxiety had plagued Marie on the days leading up to this short break. London without me is well outside Marie's comort zone, but she had done a lot of preparation -

Her friend's house was only a couple of metres from the road.
Her friend had borrowed a car and it would be parked outside at all times.
Mobile phone reception was excellent.
She could get a taxi within 15 minutes, 24 hours a day.
Her friend knew that she couldn't leave Marie alone at any time.
I would be able to come and collect her without notice should her anxiety level become too high.

Alas, the best laid plans can go wrong.

Marie's friend had to return her borrowed car, and was unable to borrow another. Marie decided that she would risk panicking and stay anyway.

Marie's friend had to go out a few times on personal matters. Without a car, Marie couldn't go with her, but she managed to stay in her friend's house by herself!

Bouyed up by this significant progress, Marie started to take her friend's dog out for a walk. Okay, the walks may have been really short, but this is another activity she did by herself.

On Saturday I left our children with older sisters Collette and Colleen, and drove to London to pick up Marie and her friend and take them to a panic party in Milton Keynes. The lunchtime "meet" had been organised by No More Panic. About 20 anxiety sufferers, some with their partners, gathered at a rather attractive pub. Naturally, parking spaces immediately outside the entrance were available! The panic party lasted for several hours and seemed to be a great success for all those who attended, including Marie. Many attendees were pushing their boundaries to the limit just by attending. There was much laughter and chatter which created a lovely ambiance.

It was a tired, but happy and elated Marie who returned home late on Saturday night.

The next day was Mothering Sunday, and I persuaded the children to let Mum sleep in, until their patience ran out about 11:30 am. Then they woke her up, giving her their cards, gifts and a specially prepared breakfast of all Marie's favourite morning foods.

Although Marie was suitably enthusiastic about the morning activities, she was simultaneously oddly detached from the children.

This has not changed. Since Sunday, Marie has gone back to the excessive sleeping, lethargic, depressed, detached state she has been in before. Fortunately - and sadly - the children and I operate really well as a unit and everything goes on as normal. We've even been entertaining some of their school friends. My business activities suffer, of course, and I am exhausted most of the time, but my family is my priority.

The children and I are hoping that happy, vibrant Marie will be returning real soon...

Mothers Day in pictures

2010-03-15T13:05:00.001Z

The pictures say it all.

Joseph made a Mothers Day card.

He composed a Haiku poem for his mum.

Orla also made a Mothers Day card -

but she decided to draw on it after giving it to Mum.

Joseph and Orla chose a Mothers Day card,

based on the words inside (awww).

Orla picked this balloon.

Colm is only 7 months younger than Marie

but he has adopted her as his mother.

Marie got breakfast in bed,

lots of flowers

dinner cooked

and all the housework done.

I think she was well pleased!

Mortality

2010-03-06T02:00:00.004Z

It's odd.

Although I have seven children, all of whom should have had to face the same inescapable facts of existence, I cannot remember how I helped each child how to cope.

Did I help them all in the same way?

What worked best? I can't remember.

For example, each child - except Colm - has had to face the inevitability of death.

Somehow, Colm's autism has spared him the anxiety normally associated with the realisation of one's mortality.

I do remember Joseph being extremely worried that I was going to die.

I told him that he would be grown up before I died and he wouldn't need me then.

That didn't work.

I told him that I wouldn't die until I was 100 years old.

I was trying to put off the day he was fearing so far into the future that it didn't matter right now.

That helped him, but didn't completely remove his fears.

Then I told him that after I died, I would become a star and would always look down on him from the sky.

He liked this.

I got quite a lot of questions about stars, but in general, he liked that idea.

He has slept soundly ever since.

Now it's Orla's turn.

She was crying sorely, in my arms, at bedtime.

What would happen if I died and mummy died?

Who would look after her?

Who would love her?

Joseph, who was nearby, told her "Don't worry, daddy will be a star. You'll be able to see him in the sky."

Joseph was being kind, trying to help.

He brought no comfort whatsoever.

I told her that I wasn't going to die before she was a grown up woman.

That is working.

For now, anyway.

She slept soundly.

All parents have to face this problem.How have you dealt with this?

All help gratefully received.

Rollercoaster agoraphobia

2010-03-04T01:00:00.008Z

Since my last, somewhat bleak report of Marie's level of agoraphobia (you can see it here), things have changed. As they do. Regularly.

The most important change is in Marie's attitude. She is now in positive mood. Looking forward to a better future. Here's what she has been doing -

Doing the school run. For the first time ever, Marie is doing almost all of the school runs. I had been doing them for 5 years.
Taking our dog (Blaze) out for exercise. Just Marie and Blaze - no safe person. Okay, so all she does is parks her car at a large field and waits for the dog to walk himself, but while she's there, she's been trying to move further away from her car. So far she has only managed a couple of paces, but at the start of the year, she couldn't even get to the field on her own!
Driving to nearby villages. She has managed to drive 3 miles away from home with the children in the car.
Going to shops by herself, and seeing how far away from the door she can get.
Going to shops with the children. Marie feels safer with the children than alone, so she uses this to go to shops which she can't get to on her own.
Visiting friends. Driving to see them on her own.

Here is a pic of Marie with Blaze, about 4m away from her car! She can do this without me being there :0) (We've been having nice, sunny weather for quite a while, now.)

On the family front, Marie has been spending more time with our children. When she's anxious, she withdraws from them. She also gets up every morning and shares in the morning routines with the children and me.

On the business front, Marie has rekindled her interest in her jewellry business. It is still a very small enterprise, but every time Marie takes an interest in it, it blossoms. This is her business, so I take almost no part in it. This way, Marie can see the results of her own labours.

As I've mentioned before, the enormity of the task of reinventing herself sometimes appears daunting to Marie, but she now has some victories under her belt to encourage her to progress.

Yes, Marie is riding the rollercoaster of her agoraphobia...and we're rolling, in a somewhat leisurely fashion, downhill at the moment. I'm sure that there are more, difficult, uphill stretches to negotiate...but right now, we're enjoying the good times!

TV dog

2010-03-02T23:55:00.002Z

Our dog, Blaze, arrived here in November 2008, so has been living with us for 15 months now. He has settled down (well, he should have by now, shouldn't he?) and this has allowed his unique personality to shine through.

And what a beautiful personality he has! He is the perfect family dog, obedient, uncomplaining, easy to train, sociable with both humans and other dogs and incredibly good with children. He's extremely good looking too (it turns out that he has an excellent show dog pedigree, but we're not interested in showing him). Everyone loves him. I didn't really want a dog, but he has won even me over!

One of his little idiosyncrasies is that he watches the tv.

He's got quite good taste. For example, he doesn't watch any soaps (ooops! - have I offended anybody?) or trashy movies. He prefers intellectually challenging nature programmes. He likes to watch dogs, of course, but also most other animals. When he hears animal noises, his ears prick up, he sits up and pays attention to the tv screen. If he hears distressed animals, he cries; with cross animals, he barks. It's quite amusing!

For some unknown reason, he has adopted me as the leader of the pack, and although he has got very affectionate towards me, he is not possessive.

At this time of year, we go walking on the beach more often than inland. The reason - Blaze always comes home from the beach clean. Additionally, he loves swimming. As soon as we get to the water, he runs straight in and splashes around. Afterwards he often swims in deeper water. Here he is during a short winter twilight walk.

I've posted pictures of the beaches near my house before, but never pictures I took during the short winter twilight. Following is a selection.

I love these walks on the deserted twilight beaches. Since Blaze came on the scene, I think I'm becoming a bit of a softie!

Grumpy granny

2010-02-24T00:01:00.009Z

I took Marie and Orla to Marie's parents' mansion (too big to be called a mere house) in Weymouth last Thursday. They were staying there until the weekend, when Joseph and I would be joining them. Joseph and I stayed at home because he had to go to his friend's birthday party and to play for his team in a football match.

Marie rang me often. I knew that things weren't right, but she wouldn't tell me what was wrong. Then, on Saturday afternoon when I was driving to her parents' house with Joseph, she called the car phone. Twice. She was crying, but couldn't tell me why.

I had just got out the car when Orla ran up to me, arms outstretched. I lifted her up and she hugged me really tight. “I'm really glad you're here, daddy,” she said into my ear. “I missed you.” Marie appeared behind her. I put Orla down and Marie and I embraced. Then she revealed the cause of her distress. Orla wasn't being treated well. Grandma was constantly telling her off.

When she was very little and compliant, Orla used to be her grandmother's golden girl. A little girl, to dress up like an expensive doll – what could be better? But now Orla is vivacious, attention-seeking, noisy, never sits still, forward...the typical second child. After two more grandchildren and a lot of babysitting, Orla has become an annoyance.

What had bothered Marie most was that she was trapped in the house. She hadn't been able to take Orla away from her grumpy grandmother.

The rest of the weekend passed off with no problems. We visited Marie's sisters where I found out that grandma wasn't such a great grandmother to her other grandchildren, either.

Marie is very glad to be home again. More determined to change than ever. If it helps her to fight agoraphobia, then her unpleasant weekend was worthwhile.

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

"Orla, was grandma grumpy?"

"Yes. She shouted at me. Made me cry."

"But I shout at you sometimes too."

"Only when I'm very naughty."

"Weren't you naughty when grandma shouted at you?"

"No. I only wanted to go into the kitchen and get a drink."

"Sometimes people when they get older get a bit grumpy and shout a lot. You're still my good girl."

"But you're old too, daddy." [Thanks Orla!] She flashes me one of her impossibly innocent smiles, eyes wide.

There's no answer to that last comment!

"Daddy..."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I miss grandma."

Well, I guess the events of the weekend didn't bother Orla too much!

Agoraphobia - trying to change

2010-02-19T00:07:00.037Z

Six feet tall, lean and intimidating. That was my first impression of John. Then he smiled, and a much nicer persona broke free.

John is a former drug user and dealer. Depression and panic attacks forced him to reconsider the direction of his life. John stopped using illicit mind-bending substances...and started to use the legal ones. When I met him, he had got over the worst days, and now believed that a drug free life was possible in the not too distant future.

Marie met John in a cyberspace and he became one of her online circle of friends, all of whom have suffered from or are still suffering from anxiety disorders. After a while, learning that John lived in the south west, Marie invited him to visit our home. He accepted.

Sitting in my living room and chatting freely, John appeared friendly and open. He was intelligent, articulate and soft-spoken. He had a good, well paid, responsible job now. When he gave up illegal drugs, he also gave up all his drug using cronies, so he didn't really have any friends at the moment (except those in cyberspace). I liked him. He spoke to me about his mental health problems. He had been dangerously depressed, he told me, but therapy had given him a life-line.

"Do you do everything the therapist tells you to do?" I asked.

"Yes, I try to," he replied. "When I do, I feel better. I know that it's working for me. I have mostly got over my anxiety. I know I can get over the rest of my problems." John went on to tell me that, on advice from his therapist, he had changed his diet and had joined a gym. He had now embarked on a healthy lifestyle and felt that this had significantly contributed to his recovery.

Later, when John had departed on his homeward journey, Marie and I chatted about him. She felt really pleased that John had overcome the worst of his depression. We spoke of his positive attitude, healthy lifestyle and his attitude to therapy.

Why, I asked Marie, didn't she embrace a healthy lifestyle and follow her therapists' advice?

She replied that she didn't know. But she's trying to change that.

And she is trying to change. She's really trying. She's trying to reinvent herself, to be the woman that she would like to be. But the scale of the change is daunting her, and her lack of belief in herself is her biggest handicap.

I cannot help Marie to change. That can only come from within herself. All I can do is provide security, encouragement and support when required.

My wife has [not got] bipolar disorder

2010-02-16T11:06:00.004Z

You won't normally catch me listening to the radio at 9 am - I'm much too busy - but often it's just playing away there in the background. Then suddenly I am aware of it and realise that something worth listening to is being broadcast.

This morning was one of those times. And the programme worth listening to was Taking A Stand with Fergal Keane. You can listen to it too - there's a link at the end of this post. Fergal was interviewing a married couple where the wife has bipolar disorder. He was hearing how the disorder is affecting their lives, both individually and as a couple. Of course, my wife has not got bipolar disorder; she has an anxiety disorder; but the similarities in how these disorders affect our relationships are many.

Read on and see if you can identify with the husband or the wife or their relationship.

The wife

The wife is aware that her disorder is a problem for her husband as well as for her. She worries about how much of a burden she is to her him. She doesn't want to cause him stress, distress or emotional pain. She knows that she is, at times, needy of his time and attention. However, she has to concentrate on "getting better"; and there are times when her disorder takes over her life and there is no space for other people's problems.

The couple

As a couple, when making plans for the future, the wife's disorder must always be a consideration. The biggest decision - which this couple has yet to make - is whether or not to have children. Can the husband cope with the additional responsibilities of parenthood during times when his wife is not only too unwell to help, but also a responsibility herself? How would children be affected by living in a household where one of the parents has bipolar disorder?

The husband

The husband's main problem is loneliness. When his wife is unwell, there is no real help for him at hand. Society doesn't want to know about the problems of people with a mental illness or about the issues that their carers have. The husband says that in this country, "care in the community means just one carer..." There is no backup, no information and no support. A physically unwell person can usually be identified by their appearance. Not so, for the mentally unwell. Most people can relate to the amount of effort required to look after one's physical needs, but not to look after one's emotional needs.

The husband has worries about their relationship. For him, the good things about their relationship outweigh the bad. But is he is the best person to look after his wife - particularly if she doesn't appear to be getting better? He sometimes questions his ability to cope. What if he left her - how would that affect his wife? Could he deal with the guilt?

I can well identify with the husband. And if I was a wife and carer, most of the same concerns apply. Everything the husband says about his relationship worries are issues which I have considered or am still considering. Also, the husband is totally accurate about the lack of support for the needs of the carer, and the isolation that most carers experience.

The husband recognises the support of his parents. I have the support of my adult daughters. How carers without family support exist, I really don't know.

The link

To listen to the programme, click here. The programme lasts 30 minutes and you'll have to endure a couple of minutes of other stuff before it starts.

A parting thought

Fergal asked, but wasn't answered, how the wife felt about the perception that her husband was virtuous and stoical in his devotion to his wife? Does she resent it? This made me think - do people see me that way? If they do, is that welcome? How does Marie feel about that perception? Do those being cared for feel that they are somehow less worthy people because they have a disability? Does this lead to an unequal partnership inside the relationship? Anyone care to comment?

Ancient aunts and agoraphobia

2010-02-12T00:01:00.007Z

My aunt died recently, at the ripe old age of 92. For most of her life she had been a lively, bubbly, gregarious lady.

Aunt Maud spent her whole life in Belfast, the town of my birth. Her husband (my uncle), their family and my family spent lots of time together. We had many days out together, would stay each other's holiday cottages/caravans, and dined together frequently. Her children were a similar age to my sister and me, and we were close childhood friends.

She became widowed when I was an older teenager but still the families met regularly. Things changed when her daughter got married and moved about 35 miles away. Then her son got married and moved to England to live. I got married and my sister followed suit soon afterwards. My mother died. Family events ceased then.

My father still visited Aunt Maud regularly. They went on picnics on nice days, went to the theatre, went for a meal and occasionally visited me.

A few years later, I moved to England and my father joined me soon afterwards. Aunt Maud still kept in touch. She and my father phoned each other regularly.

Then my father died. Oddly, Aunt Maud didn't come to his funeral. I was surprised, bearing in mind how much time my father and she had spent together. I assumed that the cost of travel from Belfast to England's West Country was too much. After all, she was a pensioner living on a modest income.

Years passed. By this time, I had met Marie, set up home with her and our first child, Joseph, was born. I decided to take them to Ireland to see the places and people important to me. We visited my Aunt Maud - one of my important people. She was still living in the same little house she had always lived in and she was fit, healthy and still smiling. It was a lovely day and we went to a nearby seaside resort and had a delightful lunch at a restaurant which Aunt Maud recommended. Afterwards we drove along the scenic coast road. I stopped at a beautiful, empty beach. I took Joseph down to on the beach to play, knowing that Marie, due to her agoraphobia, would have to stay in the car. Aunt Maud volunteered to stay with her.

Later that evening, after Aunt Maud had been returned to her home, Marie told me of her conversation with my aunt in the car while Joseph and I were on the beach. Learning that Marie was agoraphobic, Aunt Maud revealed that she, too, had agoraphobia. She had been agoraphobic all her life.

This was a surprise to me, but when I considered this news, everything began to slip into place. Now I knew why Aunt Maud hadn't come to my father's funeral. On family outings, the adults would always sit near the cars. Aunt Maud never visited us on her own. When we went out for a meal, it was always Aunt Maud who picked the restaurant. I never knew her to take a bus trip anywhere - my father used to drive her around in his car. Her children and grandchildren who resided in Ireland quite often visited her, but she rarely visited them - requiring them to first come and pick her up in their car. She never visited her son's home in England and seldom saw her English grandchildren. For most of her later years, she spent the majority of her time sitting in her house, connected to the outside world only by her telephone. She was able to go to the local shop and Post Office - until the government closed the Post Office and the shop became uneconomic. After that she had to rely on her home help for shopping.

After that trip with Marie, I called to see my aunt every time I went to Ireland. I always took her out - to a place of her choice. I know that she really enjoyed these outings, although heart problems meant that she was becoming increasingly frail.

When I tried to call her on her 92nd birthday, the phone had been disconnected. I phoned my cousin to find out why. Aunt Maud, he informed me, had become too ill to look after herself and had to be moved to a nursing home (thanks for letting me know at the time, dear cousin!). In fact, she was so anxious about this that she had to be sedated so that the move could be effected. She never settled in the nursing home and died, friendless and with no family nearby, soon afterwards.

Aunt Maud, if I'd known how ill and unhappy you were, I would have flown over to see you.

I'm sad.

Agoraphobia can be a hateful affliction.

Anxiety sufferers corner

2010-02-10T00:01:00.016Z

I thought it was quite unusual when I found out that my new next door neighbour has agoraphobia.

But what are the chances of the lady next door to her also having agoraphobia?

Pretty remote, I hear you say. And you'd be right. But yet, it's true. She has. Which explains why until recently I had never seen her.

There is a chap with a little Scottie dog called Bob who lives next door to my next door neighbour. The chap is called Bob, not the Scottie dog. Bob is in his early 60's, I'm guessing, and very pleasant. We both walk our dogs, and when we meet he will chat to me about the weather and other similarly interesting topics as his little dog checks out my dog's genitalia, and vice versa. I knew that he had a partner living with him. He mentions her sometimes. But I don't remember ever seeing her.

When my new next door neighbours moved in, Bob introduced himself and offered his assistance should they need anything. From time to time, my neighbours would see the shadowy image of a lady moving around behind the net curtains of the cottage. But why did she not ever appear outside?

Sometimes they would speculate about this. She might be being held there against her will - a sex slave or something. An illegal immigrant. Or a recluse. Or some type of ethereal being - not a real person at all...

One day they spotted a lady getting out of Bob's car. Introductions were exchanged. She was Bob's partner.

"You won't see me outside often," the lady said. "I'm a bit agoraphobic."

An agoraphobic neighbour on both sides? That was something they had never considered. They swapped symptoms. Seems this lady has mostly recovered from her agoraphobia. She can go most places that she wants to go to. She just feels uncomfortable sometimes and prefers to stay indoors.

What's more, her partner, my neighbour with the Scottie dog, Bob, has anxiety issues too.

Could you live in a village like this?

I'm thinking of starting up a colony for anxiety sufferers. There are five here already, living in three adjacent houses. A little anxiety sufferers' corner. Want to join our colony? Contact me and I'll put your name down on the waiting list. As properties in close proximity to our ours become available to rent/purchase, I'll contact you.

We could have our own self-help group. We could bulk buy therapy sessions. Specialist doctors specialising in health anxiety could move to the area. Disability payment claims could be made en masse. Local shops could be forced to become agoraphobia friendly. They would have to open at midnight once per week to accommodate social anxiety sufferers. Anyone else have similar suggestions?

In time, anxiety sufferers could become the majority of the population in this area. Folk without anxiety issues would be the odd ones. How weird would that be? "He's a bit eccentric," you would hear locals say about a newcomer, "he's never had a panic attack!"

photo © Richard Knights

Autism - my son's visit

2010-02-08T00:01:00.002Z

Colm visited us on Friday at midday, as arranged. Collette and baby Lucas were here too.

I had several very urgent matters to attend to in my business...but I thought, hell, family is more important, so I took most of the day off.

Colm seemed to be good form and decided he wanted to stay until 7 pm, after dinner. After briefly chatting to us and telling me that he wanted to phone his mother (so it wasn't just a flash in the pan), he went into the kitchen to be by himself and to watch tv. He likes his own company. I tried to contact his mother, but there was no answer. Colm didn't appear to be too worried by this - it's rare for his mum to answer the phone when we ring. He went back to watching tv and eating everything in the house.

Around 4 pm, as Collette was getting ready to go home, Colm's (and Collette's) mother rang us. Colm was overjoyed.

During the ensuing conversation, Colm's mum arranged to meet him when she comes to see her grandson, sometime in March. She's going to take him on a shopping trip.

Uh-oh... Shopping trips with mum are always trouble.

Colm handed me the phone. "Mum tell you come March" he informed me, which meant that his mother wanted to explain to me about her forthcoming visit. I was relieved to learn that she hadn't given Colm a firm date for her visit. And no, she didn't want to talk to Collette just now.

Colm always communicates using truncated sentences. You get used to them after a while. Makes you realise just how few words you really need to convey information.

After the call ended, Colm asked Collette to take him back home. My house is, he informed me, "wee bit boring". I like it when Colm wants to go home. It means that he's happy there. It wasn't always like that...

Colm has been more relaxed since his visit home. He is apprehensive about seeing his mum, but I told him that it wouldn't happen until the end of March or April. If he's given a fixed date, he obsesses about it and, close to the time, has the worst anticipatory anxiety you can imagine. I can easily persuade his mother not to take him on a shopping trip - they always end in disaster - she can take him to McDonald's instead. That will please him and it's a much less threatening environment.

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

Collette later told me that, despite offering her the use of her spare room, her mother's visit is only going to be a day trip. So she's not going to be the doting grandmother, then... The photos which follow show what she's missing at the moment.

Autism - my son, his mother and the law

2010-02-03T22:11:00.009Z

Colm has been exhibiting challenging behaviour over the last couple of weeks.

This happens when things aren't going the way he wants them to. The sort of things which wouldn't particularly bother you or me. Here's what was bothering him –

His arm was in a plaster and he was fed up with it
He wasn't able to see his new nephew for over a week, because he was hospitalised
He was upset by the effects of the earthquake in Haiti
The tumble dryer at his house had broken down.

Colm could have dealt with each of these problems on their own, but not all of them at the same time.

Colm's often can't explain why he is upset, so he will complain about something else – usually something else which he cannot change.

On this occasion he demanded to speak to his mother, visit her and stay with her for a week.

Seem like reasonable requests?

Colm has only seen his mother four times in the last 10 years. Two of those times were at his sisters' weddings, when both of them were present at the receptions. He only spent a couple of minutes with her on each occasion. On the other two occasions, his mother and her boyfriend at the time took Colm out for a meal and shopping. Both trips ended disastrously. On the first occasion, Colm's mother was banned from visiting his previous home by the management. On the second trip, she ended up leaving Colm, alone in my house for nearly an hour. She does try her best, but unfortunately she doesn't know her son. Being autistic, Colm cannot be forced to do anything he doesn't want to do, but she still hasn't worked that out.

Colm speaks to his mother twice a year – on his birthday and on Christmas day. Conversations last 1 – 2 minutes. There used to be more phone contact, but Mum often didn't call when she had arranged to, or wasn't in when she was supposed to be. Colm, to whom routine is essential, is not able to tolerate this kind of behaviour and that is why there are just 2 calls per year now. In any case, Mum has never objected to this or asked for more contact.

So I had a dilemma. Should I let Colm contact his mother – and risk it upsetting him even more? What if she arranged to see him? I could handle the 4 hour trip to her home, but what about the 4 hour return trip with a potentially very upset young man?

I sought advice from his social worker, and she explained the current legal situation. It seems that Colm, and any other adult in similar circumstances, has the right to contact anyone of his choice – in this case, his mother - even if the receiver of the call doesn't want it and/or it would be a very upsetting experience for him – even if this course of action is likely to be detrimental to his state of mind. No one has the right to refuse this to him, without getting him officially declared “unfit” to make that decision. If things go badly, those who care for him have to deal with the repercussions as well as they can.

Colm lives semi independently in a house with 2 other lads, both of whom also have autism spectrum disorders. A team of carers monitor them 24 hours a day. I arranged with the carers to delay any contact with Colm's mother until he visited me. He is rarely distressed when visiting me or his siblings, so that would be an opportune time to call his mother. Or if we get lucky, he'll have totally changed his mind by then, and won't want to speak to her until his birthday in May.

Colm is visiting on Friday. It should be an enjoyable visit for him – sister Collette and her baby, Lucas, will also be here. Additionally, his plaster is being removed tomorrow, so that will be another of the causes of anxiety removed.

Wish us luck. I cannot express how heartbreaking it is to see Colm when he is distressed. And it must be 100 times worse for him...

Baby Lucas home at last!

2010-01-29T00:01:00.019Z

Orla can't get enough of baby Lucas!

Baby Lucas, my 6th grandchild, was born about 10 days late, heavy and after a prolonged labour. Additionally, quite common in the circumstances, the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He had fluid in his lungs, had some difficulty breathing and was too weak to suckle. He couldn't go home. After a couple of days in hospital, he contracted a chest infection and had to be treated with antibiotics.

It was over a week before he got home, and next day Marie and I and the children went to Collette's home to introduce ourselves to the baby. That was a couple of days ago. Lucas was unimpressed with our visit, but we were so impressed by him! He's beautiful!

Parents Collette and Neil seem to be totally baby orientated, so Lucas is certain of a good home. Marie and I, and sisters Colleen and Carla have all volunteered to babysit just as soon as Collette and Neil will let us!

Everyone related to the happy couple has been to see him by now - except Collette's mother, my 2nd wife (ex-wife, actually). Although Collette is her youngest child and Lucas is her first grandchild, she hasn't yet made time to visit them - nor has she any definite plans to do so. I hope Collette doesn't feel too let down by this. However, Collette and I have, and have always had, a very strong bond. She knows that her siblings, Marie and I really value her and her baby, and we'll always be there for them.

The agoraphobics' dinner party

2010-01-25T00:17:00.003Z

At the weekend, our agoraphobic neighbour Julie and her partner Drew invited Marie and me round to their house for dinner. Unfortunately, due to the lack of a babysitter, we had to decline.

Julie has become a regular, almost daily visitor to our home. I guess that she knows that her endearing eccentricities are not judged here. Not only do Marie and I love to see her, but also the kids. Sometimes Marie or the children pop round to her house too.

Drew has called round a couple of times, but has only stayed for a few minutes.

Julie has just started to receive psychoanalysis at our local mental health centre. The psychoanalyst told her that she is almost certainly suffering from PTSD. This has never been considered before in the quarter of a century or so that Julie has been having treatment for mental health problems. She considers this to be progress. Based on the experiences that Julie has related to me, I'm surprised that PTSD hasn't been suggested before.

Since Julie moved in beside us, Marie has seemed to be more interested in improving her own condition.

Back to our dinner invitation - Julie and Drew weren't taking no for an answer. If Marie and I couldn't go to their house, they would bring dinner to ours. So immediately after out children went to bed, Julie and Drew brought round enough food for a sumptuous 3-course Indian banquet to our home in well insulated bowls. The meal was perfectly prepared and had travelled well. Drew, not usually comfortable in this sort of environment, seemed to be able to relax during and after the meal, and was good company.

Everyone enjoyed the evening and we're planning to repeat the exercise soon.

HELP!!!

2010-01-21T01:30:00.002Z

It is around about midnight and my wife has already retired for the night. I check that all the doors and windows are secure and I look in on the children. They are all sleeping. peacefully. I've had a good but busy day so I'm tired. Happy tired. Lowering myself into my nice, soft, warm bed is a wonderful feeling. I turn off the bedside lamp and close my eyes. Mmmm. It's so peaceful; my wife's rhythmic breathing is the only sound.

Uh? What's going on?

The whole world has started to spin and lurch. I open my eyes. The ceiling is rocking and turning. It's like being on a roller coaster, but it's out of control. I start to feel nauseous. Very nauseous. I can't stay in the bed. I get up and discover that I can't stand! I stagger out of the bedroom and down the stairs, holding on to the handrail for dear life. The exertion makes me pant. I soon discover that sitting is no better than lying, which is no better than trying to stand (except that I don't fall anywhere).

I am scared.

My heart is beating at a seriously high rate. It seems intent in exiting its chest cavity. I know that something serious is wrong. Is this the end? Am I dying?

What should I do? I know - ring the emergency department. Should I ask for an ambulance? No, perhaps this feeling will go away and then I'll look stupid. Best to speak to a doctor. Where's the phone book? Here it is. Will I pass out before I get through on the phone? No, they're answering now.

"Can I speak to a doctor please, I feel really unwell."

I have to answer a few questions first. Please hurry up - I'm getting worse. Ah, the doctor's speaking to me now. I tell him what has happened and how I feel now. I try to be calm and not exaggerate how I feel, but I think that there is a palpable desperation in my voice and my breathing is erratic.

"I'm not sure what's wrong," says the doctor, but you're obviously not fit enough to get here under your own steam. I'm sending out an ambulance right away. It'll be with you in a couple of minutes."

I shout up the stairs to wake up my wife. She hears and runs down the stairs, anxious and worried. She insists that she will accompany me to the hospital. What about the children? They can't stay here on their own. Ok, she'll get the lady next door to look after them. Off she goes to disturb our next door neighbour's sleep. She's back in less than a minute; babysitting has been taken care of. Where's that bloody ambulance? Here in a couple of minutes? It seems like a couple of hours. Will it get here before I die?

I notice a blue flashing light. It must be the ambulance. There's a knock at the door and my wife is already there, letting the paramedics in. She's dressed - when did she do that? The paramedics insist that I lie on a stretcher and they carry me out to the ambulance. We're off and one of the paramedics is checking my vital signs. He smiles at me."

You're not in any obvious danger." he says, "but we'll have to have your properly checked out."

I feel relieved. Then I begin to feel better. The spinning diminishes and stops. My heart rate reduces and my breathing regularises. I start to feel like a fake. I shouldn't be lying down, I think, but I don't get up. We arrive at the hospital my dizzy feeling is returning, along with all the other problems. The paramedics are rushing me into the hospital, rushing me through the emergency department and they are lifting me onto a bed in a private ward. I am apprehensive. What will they find? A doctor enters the ward, greets me and begins his examination.

An hour has passed and I am back in the private ward. I have been wheeled around various departments inside the hospital, had many tests carried out on me including an ECG. The dizzy feeling has been coming and going, but hasn't been as intense as it was when I was at home. I'm not dizzy at all now, but I'm worried about the ECG results. I was dizzy at that time and my heart was pounding. Here's the doctor. He perches on the edge of the bed."

Good news", he says. "There's nothing seriously wrong with you."

"Nothing wrong?" I ask, incredulously. "What about my dizziness and nausea and heart palpitations and everything?"

"I didn't say there's nothing wrong with you," he replies. "Just nothing seriously wrong with you. All your symptoms point to an inner ear infection. That's what is causing your dizziness and the dizziness is causing you to feel nauseous."

"But what about my heart? It's never raced like that before? And my breathing...?"

"That was just you having a panic attack," he tells me. "Not unusual in the circumstances. I'm going to put you on antibiotics for 5 days, and that should clear it all up." He explains to me how an inner ear infection can occur and how it causes dizziness. The doctor leaves and I am free to go home.

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

I'll never forget that panic attack. It happened in 1988 and it was the first. I've had a few more since then, during brief flirtations with health anxiety. Panic attacks are extremely unpleasant, but I'm glad that I have experienced them. They have helped me to empathise with panic/anxiety disorder sufferers. Including, of course, my dear wife.

My two baby grandsons

2010-01-18T23:40:00.006Z

Baby Lucas first.

Here he is at 1 day old. Baby Lucas has a chest infection and is on antibiotics. It's a shame, really. Collette and Neil have their much-wanted baby, but cannot bring him home for a week or so. They are a little disappointed, although it's not showing in this picture of Collette with Lucas (age 2 days).

And the very much hands-on dad Neil doesn't look disappointed here, either.

Only parents are allowed to see Lucas, so Marie and I haven't seen him in the flesh yet.

Hopefully it won't be long until we do!

Now on to baby Matthew, now 3½ months old. Here he is with happy mum, Jenna.

He definitely not the skinny baby of a few months ago. He had a checkup today and he's not just doing well - he's doing extremely well. Just to think how worried we all were about him 3 months ago! He's coming to visit us in just over 2 weeks, and he's bringing mum and big sister Elisha as well. Another thing to look forward to!

New baby!

2010-01-16T12:45:00.000Z

My youngest grown-up daughter, Collette, gave birth to a baby boy at 12:01 am this morning. She was more than a week late, so it's a bit of a relief that it's all over.

Here are the tecnical details - the baby is called Lucas, he weighed 8lbs 11oz (3.94 kg), normal delivery using water birth.

I haven't got a photo yet because unfortunately his umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, and he has to spend a few days in hospital. This also made the labour longer and more difficult. However, it looks as though everything will be ok eventually.

All the family are overjoyed, especially proud dad, my son-in-law, Neil. Lucas is Collette's first baby and my sixth grandchild.

Photos to follow!

2010-01-14T12:22:00.005Z

Marie's Agoraphobia, Monophobia & OCD - review of 2009

Marie's condition a year ago can be accessed here.

Marie's agoraphobia level fluctuated wildly during 2009, but at the end of the year, it was worse than when I met her in 1999. She had been improving, but when she stopped taking her medication on a regular basis - on two separate occasions - she was severely punished with a plethora of physical and psychological maladies. It took more than two months for these to abate. Mess with medication at your peril!

Marie can, at the start of 20010...

Stay at home on her own, as long she knows that is at least one safe person at home nearby and I am less than 60 miles away. This is a little better than last year when I had to be less than 30 mile away.
Go out in a car, with a safe person, almost anywhere - although her level of anxiety when out is unpredictable
Walk 2 - 3 metres from our car/home/a safe place. This is back to the 2000 level & hasn't changed since last year.
Stay in any non-threatening place (e.g. a house) with a selection of "safe" people, as long as they can drive and there is a car close by. This is unchanged since last year, but worse than 2000.

Marie cannot, at the start of 2010 -

Be alone anywhere, if I am more than 60 miles away. Slight improvement on 2009.
Be alone at any time (see above for exceptions)
Walk more than 3 metres outside our building. Same as 2009.
Walk more than 2 metres from a car in an open area
Go anywhere, except by car and accompanied by a safe person
Go into any large building - e.g. supermarkets, the doctors' surgery, hospital, office blocks - or go more than 4 metres away from the door of small buildings. This is a very small improvement from last year, but similar to 2000.

The symptoms of Marie's monophobia have become a little less severe. She is most definitely less anxious when I am absent from our home. This has helped me in my business and has also allowed me to take the children more often and with a lot less stress.

Marie's OCD has improved slightly. One day, without warning, she bought herself a new handbag (purse) - one which was only half the size of her old one. She hasn't filled it either, so it is a more normal weight. It doesn't sound like much, but in this one area, it's a major improvement.

Autism, carers and Christmas

2010-01-12T00:04:00.005Z

Since moving into his current home in Taunton, Colm has become increasingly settled. He has less anxiety and fewer and smaller episodes of challenging behaviour.

Despite from breaking his wrist, Colm had a good Christmas season. This is Colm's ideal Christmas Day -

Arrive at Dad's house (mine) at 2 pm
Give and receive Christmas presents - especially receive!
Get the main Christmas present he's been wanting for months (this year it was a Sony PS3)
Christmas dinner - must be traditional fare! - at 3 pm
Ring Mum after dinner to thank her for the money she sent for Christmas, and tell her not to forget to send money for his birthday
Play computer games, sometimes solo and sometimes with one of the other boys
Christmas supper around 7:30 pm
Go home around 9 pm
Bed at 11 pm

Colm didn't know until Boxing day that he had incurred a minor wrist fracture. Colm had broken his wrist before, so going to hospital for treatment was familiar to him and thus not stressful. The rest of the day was spent setting up and playing with his Sony PS3.

On 27th December, Colm once again came to my house, this time to see his Aunt (my sister, my only sibling). He hasn't seen her since she moved to Jersey, 2 years ago and had been anticipating this visit for a long time. Thirty seconds after seeing her, he was bored and spent the rest of his visit playing computer games. He had an enjoyable time.

Colm started 2010 in a really happy frame of mind. His living accommodation is provided by a company who specialise in caring for autistic people. Their clients are, where possible, housed in small units. Routines are established, maintained and only varied when absolutely necessary. His care package has been developped in consultation with me and the local Social Services department. I receive monthly reports and there are bi-annual meetings to review Colm's care. Over the last couple of years this has produced the successful regime in place today.

I don't know if this kind of care provision is available in other parts of the UK or even anywhere else in the world, but I believe that Colm is really fortunate - as am I, as his primary carer - to be living in accommodation which is almost tailor made for him.

Agoraphobia and snow

2010-01-07T13:34:00.007Z

It's really, really pretty around these parts. And quiet. Very quiet. No buses, few lorries and fewer tourists. We have been fortunate. It snows during the nights and there's wall-to-wall sunshine during the days. It was a little breezy, but that's gone away.

Marie's anxiety level is lower than usual in snowy surroundings. I expected her to be asking her usual What If (...ambuances can't get into the area? ...the shops run out of food? ...our cars get blocked in? etc.) questions, but they have been thin on the ground. She's remarkably settled and only checks the online BBC weather forecast a few times per day (lol).

The children are off school. First of all there was too much snow and the teachers couldn't get into the school. Now the playground is too icy. I expect they'll be off again tomorrow - probably because they'll think that it's not worth opening for only one day... The children are loving it. They toboggan on the hills, slide on the ice and have snowball fights.

Some of my staff haven't been able to make it to work, so I have to do a lot more work at the "customer interface" (business jargon). Which I'm able to do, since there are no school runs at the moment.

Everyone in our area is in good spirits. Yes, the weather is causing some inconveniences, but everything looks so beautiful that it compensates for this. The local police have only one 4x4 vehicle, so they are pottering around their offices, spring cleaning . The few naughty people who live around here prefer to break the law in better weather. This is a laid-back sort of area. No high-powered, time-regulated, stressed-out, big business tycoons live here!

One of my branches is 25 miles from here, but the main road is closed for road works. The alternative is a route through scenic Exmoor, adding about 10 miles to the journey. However, the roads in Exmoor are mostly blocked with snow and/or ice, so I have to take an alternative route using only main roads. Now the journey is 80 miles!

Apart from having to do that long alternative hourney a couple of times, life is good around here!

The pictures were taken about a mile from my home. In the one below, South Wales is visible on the horizon across the sea. Click on the pictures if you want to see them somewhat larger.

Not quite the Christmas I wanted...

2009-12-31T06:33:00.013Z

23rd December.

Jenna and her family arrived. I picked them up at the airport. They are staying until 1st January. Matthew looked great!

Matthew now.

He's changed a lot since he was ill.

24th December.

All my family gathered at our house for my birthday party. It was Christmas Eve. The birthday presents were both generous and thoughtful. I'm a lucky man.

While indulging in some horseplay, one of my grandchildren threw a mobile phone. It struck the TV, bounced off it and hit Jenna's husband, Colin, on the cheek. The TV was ruined and Colin had a significant bruise on his cheek.

At 11.00pm, I went to church for midnight mass. The church car park is about 200m along an unlit, narrow lane. While driving up the lane, a horse stuck its head out from the field alongside the lane into the path of my car and I was unable to avoid hitting it - although the collision was at low speed. The horse ran off into the darkness of the field. I got home about 1.00am and relayed my story to Marie and Jenna. What was their reaction? Was the horse hurt? Why didn't I find the horse to see if it was ok? Obviously I am a really bad person - I should have run around the muddy field to locate a horse which probably wasn't really looking for human company, and then I should have cornered it to examine its mouth for injuries...all of this in the pitch black!! No one asked me how the collision had affected me. Oh well.

Damage to my car

25th December

We had Jenna and her family and Colleen with us on Christmas morning. It seemed like the opening of presents took hours. But everybody was well pleased with the presents.

Around lunch time, Colleen went to Colm's house to collect him and bring him to ours. It was icy where Colm lives and he slipped. He hurt his wrist and smashed his present for Marie. We didn't tell him about the broken present in case he got upset about it.

My property alarm company called to report that one of my alarms was sounding. A subsequent inspection revealed that the alarm had gone faulty.

All my children, their spouses and children had arrived just after lunch time. Presents were given and received. With 17 of us, that took a long time! Happiness everywhere. Great atmosphere. Christmas dinner, prepared by Marie and me with some assistance from Colin, followed. Marie and I have got the hang of catering for such a large gathering! It was a great success, not only due to the quality of the food (Marie's Somerset cider ham is legendary in our family), but also to the seamless flow from course to course and the general ambiance. As usual, all the adults helped with the clearing up.

My 7 children - Colm, Joseph, Carla, Jenna holding Orla, Colleen (top right) and Collette (bottom right)

Julie and Drew called around about 9.00pm! This was a major achievement for Drew, especially as our house was bursting at the seams with family members. Family members began to leave or went to bed leaving Julie and Drew, Marie, Colin and me to have a much quieter and very enjoyable time with good craic and fine wine.

At about midnight, my alarm company called again...

26th December

Colm's wrist was still swollen. He spent most of Boxing Day at the hospital and discovered that he had broken his wrist when he slipped on the ice.

Marie and I went to her parents' house where she had a birthday party as well as a Christmas party. Her sisters, their children and a few other family members were there too - the first year that all the sisters had children at Christmas. There were lots more presents for Joseph and Orla.

During the afternoon the alam company called yet again!

27th December

We spent the morning completing the assembly of the children's toys (nothing comes ready to use any more) and tidying up all the packaging associated with children's toys. In the afternoon, I took advantage of the near Spring-like weather and took all the children to the beach where they happily played with sea pools, crabs and sand for a few hours.

The alarm company rang yet again!

28th December

Baby Matthew had had a rough night and was very snuffly. He wouldn't feed and his breathing was very laboured. He was distressed and crying almost non-stop. I felt that a visit to the hospital was required, where they found that his heart rate, breathing rate and temperature were all higher than they should be. Treatment began almost immediately and I became a messenger boy getting pizza, clothes and nappies. Matthew was kept in, so Jenna spent the night in the hospital with him. I eventually got home around 3.00am.

29th December

Two members of staff reported ill early in the morning! One was a manager, but I managed to get cover for her. I had to cover the duties of the other ill staff member. However, the faulty alarm, about which the alarm company had been ringing throughout the holidays, prevented anyone from opening the safe, so one of the branches wasn't able to open for several hours, until the safe engineer sorted out the whole mess.

By lunch time, Matthew's treatment had worked wonders and he was able to go home. Smiles all round!

After lunch I found out that the unwell members of staff would be able to work next week. That's good, of course, but even better is the knowledge that they are getting better.

In the evening Marie and I went to a Christmas party. It was in a private house and I suppose that there were about 40 people there. The evening was very enjoyable much helped by the fact that despite the party being noisy and crowded, Marie was almost totally anxiety free the whole time.

So...

All in all a mixed Christmas season, but I feel the the good points significantly outweighed the not-so-good ones. However, I hope that next year we'll have less incidents to cope with!

Btw - The picture at the top is of my wrecked TV!

Mingling with Marie's Mental Mates at the Party for Panicky People.

2009-12-20T16:45:00.004Z

Marie hosted a party on Saturday evening. It was for her friends with anxiety issues, but she let me attend too (as long as I agreed to help with the catering). Our guests all came from the South of England and 5 of them who had travelled about 2½ hours to get to us had booked overnight accommodation. In total there were 11 of us present.

Sufferers were afflicted in various degrees with one or more of the following conditions - agoraphobia, arachnophobia, gynophobia, haphephobia, monophobia, ocd, panthophobia, ptsd, social phobia and xenophobia. A social anxiety sufferer took 90 minutes to pluck up enough courage to ring our doorbell. Our ptsd guest didn't converse with anyone for almost 2 hours, and then talked incessantly. A few of our invited guests, including our new next door neighbour, Drew, couldn't make it because their phobias were too strong on the night and one had a stomach upset.

Marie had what looked like the contents of a small supermarket delivered from the local Asda (UK's Walmart stores). It was all snack food and cakes and the drinks were either alcoholic or sugar saturated. There wasn't a healthy tidbit in sight. As a result, the food and drink were very popular!

Our guests mostly hadn't met each other before. They were all keen to compare symptoms of their conditions as well as chatting about TV, movies, their children (who appeared to be either really sweet or real nuisances) and jobs - or lack of them. Of course, no one had to hide their condition or put on a false front, so we had a very relaxed atmosphere. Some of our guests were very pleased with themselves just for travelling so far or going somewhere with so many people.

Everyone seemed to have had a good time. No one panicked! The guests wanted Marie to have another party and the concensus was that some time around Easter would be good.

By the end of the evening, I realised that all our guests suffered from one common problem - poor self esteem.

Nobody got drunk enough to be annoying, the carpets and furniture hadn't been damaged and when all our guests had left, around 12.30 am, we completely filled a bin bag with rubbish! Blaze (our dog) got petted all evening and had some of the leftovers, so he had a good time too!

Marie's mental mates are a great bunch of people!

My next door neighbour has agoraphobia!

2009-12-15T23:08:00.031Z

The doorbell rang.
I opened the door to a quite attractive lady in her early thirties. It was one of our new next-door neighbours. She was slim with long legs, had quite short curly brown hair and a disarming smile. Her dress was peculiar - under an Afgan she wore a dark knitted top, jeans...and a brightly coloured, striped blanket.

"Hi Julie! Come on in. Fancy a coffee? I was just about to make one."

"Mmm. Please."

She followed me into the kitchen and watched carefully as I prepared our beverages.

"Sugar?" I asked.

"No, thanks."

"Shall we go into the living room?"

"Ok."

We sat down on different settees, at right angles to each other. Julie sat on the edge of her seat, knees together, hands clasped together on her lap, back rigid. We had met before, but only on a business footing. She's an Ebay trader. Meeting socially is different, of course, and Julie appeared somewhat ill at ease.

"You must think I'm odd," Julie ventured apologetically, with a sweeping gesture highlighting her stripy blanket.

"Living with Marie, I'm kinda used to odd behaviour," I replied.

"Yes, but I hope you didn't mind me watching you make the coffee. I can't eat or drink anything unless I see it being made. And the blanket, I have to wear it when I feel anxious. It's my safety thing. It's a security blanket. I have about twenty of them."

Julie continued to catalogue her "oddities" and for the most part, I just sat and listened, nodding my head at appropriate intervals. She can't walk far from her house, can't travel in a car further than about 30 miles, can't cope with being in a room with more than a few people, has anxiety about any type of social interaction but feels okay in most business environments. She has some OCD, being compelled to put things in their "correct" places and she finds it very difficult to put down a puzzle without completing it.

Julie now settled into the soft cushions of our settee. She had obviously relaxed. She told me a little about her difficult childhood, and how it left her with problems trusting people or showing affection. Drew, her "other half", a local business man and known to me, has social phobia - but only in non-business situations. She wasn't sure if he would be able to come into our house.
Both of us looked up as Marie entered the room.

"Hi Julie! Sorry to keep you waiting. I was just getting ready."

"No problem." Julie got to her feet and took her leave of me. She and Marie had arranged to go to the local shop. They were going to give each other courage.

So Marie has a new friend; and Julie has too. Each glad that the other knows something of how they feel, of how their phobias are affecting their lives. I'll see if Drew will allow me to befriend him. He hasn't had a friend for many years.

It's early days, but this might be a helpful development for Marie - and our neighbours.

My extraordinary son

2009-12-13T22:31:00.002Z

"The apple does not usually fall far from the tree." (Der Apfel fellt nicht gerne weit vom Baume.)

If this proverb was true for my son Joseph (8), he would be untidy, unruly, unhelpful, disrespectful... My anarchic tendencies during my formative years was the bane of my mother's life.

By comparison, Joseph is:

affectionate
neat
punctual
conscientious
organised
respectful of authority
considerate
obedient (most of the time!)
loving

Joseph is, academically, in the top 2 or 3 in his year at school, has the most awards for behaviour/good work, is one of the best footballers on the school and local club teams, is one of the best swimmers and the best gymnast in his school.

Now, that list of attributes would make any dad proud of his son, but Joseph has even more to offer.

During his mum's month long malaise, he has helped me around the house. Without being prompted to do so. He washed and cleaned the bathroom, walked the dog (close to our house), often set the table at meal times and sometimes made breakfast for all of us. He looked after his little sister by showing her how to draw and colour in, selecting tv programmes for her to watch, often played with her and if he saw her doing something that he though was dangerous, would report it to me. He made cups of tea for his mum. I could continue to wax lyrical about my son, but I'm sure you've got a pretty good picture already.

Joseph, you enrich my life. You are a truly extraordinary son.

Nativity play season

2009-12-10T11:54:00.004Z

Once again, it's the time of year for school nativity plays.

This year, Orla was in her first nativity play, and Joseph was in his fifth. Normally this would mean attending two nativity plays, but in a break with tradition their school decided to have a play which included all the children between the ages of 4 and 9; so both children were in the same play.

I had the honour of helping out as musical director (for free of course!).

There were three performances of the play, and all on the same day - yesterday. Joseph was one of eight chosen for a solo speaking role. He carried it off with aplomb. He also performed in the school choir. Orla was a very attractive angel. Yes, I know I'm biased! The picture at the side was given to me by the school since I was unable to take one myself. (I thought that this was very considerate - I hadn't asked them for a picture.) She sang her heart out with the rest of her class with "Away in a Manger".

The children were fantastic and the play was a great success. Even the 4 year olds (like Orla), performing for the first time and after only 12 weeks at school, were terrific. The kids' performances were really moving. More than one parent had tears in their eyes.

But do you know what the best thing was, for the children and me? After hours and hours of indecision, Marie plucked up enough courage to attend the final performance. The children were thrilled.

Marie was pretty pleased with herself as well!

Medication moderated - Charles Linden Method is back

2009-12-03T14:42:00.002Z

Charles Linden has a new hair style.

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

"My" Marie is back. Her sleep pattern is returning to normal, she spends time with the children, carries out more domestic duties and is beginning to look to the future.

Here's an email she sent Charles Linden:

I have had a couple of rough months as I mucked my medication up again. Cold turkey isn't a good idea as I should have learned by now. :( I've had laryngitis as well as the side effects of my tablets. I am feeling a bit better now and I am going continue the Linden method.. I truly believe in what you say Charles - it's just believing in myself is the problem. :( I am too scared as I'm letting my anxiety controll me I guess. So I need a kick up the ass. Charles, I want out of agoraphobia and I kinda have let myself down as I did not keep the work up and I kind of feel a failure as I let the anxiety control me again :(

Recovery starts from today x

Here's his reply:

Marie, you are not a failure! Life gets in the way sometimes. You must stop see-sawing your meds though, a stable physical foundation is what is needed in order to recover fully - you know that. Keep your meds dose level or withdraw, it's your choice, but once that is done, you can start the recovery process. Equilibrium is the watchword Marie. You can do this but try to get level first, then move forwards. You can do this Marie... look at how far you came before, there is nothing to stop you. C

Ok, then. Onward and upward! Marie is listening to her therapy CDs again. Wanting to go out in the car again. The children are enjoying her attention. I'm able to spend a little time attending to my business.

Life is better!

Agoraphobia Works! (for some)

2009-11-15T18:00:00.147Z

If you suffer from a panic/anxiety disorder, you might find this post makes you angry. You may find it insulting/controversial/ignorant/thought provoking/just plain wrong. If so, please let me know! I want to be wrong! But I need evidence to make me change my mind.

Over the past years, I've met quite a few panic/anxiety sufferers. The majority have got over or are getting over their problems, but some, like Marie, haven't.

Now, we all know that agoraphobia is not an incurable problem. For example, how many housebound agoraphobics have chosen to stay in a burning house to experience voluntary incineration? How many agoraphobics have refused life-saving surgery? I haven't heard of any. It would seem that if you give an agoraphobia sufferer, no matter how severe their condition, sufficient incentive, they can - at least temporarily - overcome their agoraphobia. And if it's possible to set agoraphobia aside temporarily, then it's possible to remove it permanently. Well, that's my theory, anyway. Can you prove me wrong?

I was interested to learn why some people don't seem to be able to fight their agoraphobia. Here are four of their stories. Their names and any details which could identify them have been changed/omitted. The fact that none of them is male is simply because I haven't met an unrecovered agoraphobic man (although I know of one online - but don't know enough about his story to include below).

Anne was a happily married twenty-something with no children when she was raped. Her husband considered her "soiled" and left. Scared of another rape and having lost her trust in men, Anne became afraid to leave her house. She has been almost totally housebound ever since, and she's in her sixties now. She doesn't work but instead devotes her life to her pets and spends most of her time on the internet. She considers that her agoraphobia is not adversely affecting her life any more. Anne has spent most of her life avoiding dealing with her mistrust in men. Was agoraphobia a convenient excuse for choosing to be reclusive?

Betty got married and relocated far away from her friends and family due to her husband's job. They had a good life together for a few years, although his possessive nature meant that Betty was unable to form friendships outside of their marriage. Then she found out that he had been having an affair with her best friend. Despite assuring her that the affair was over, he continued to see this woman. Betty became insecure but had no one to turn to. She became unwell. This got her extra attention from her husband at first, but he began to tire of her attention-seeking "unwell" bouts. Betty began to have panic attacks, and her husband got fed up with her and deserted her for her (former) best friend. Totally humiliated, Betty moved back to her parents' house. She tried to keep her relationship with her husband going by communicating with him by text and online, but he responded by taunting her with glowing reports of his new relationship and telling her how useless he considered her to be while she was with him. Fifteen years and much therapy later, Betty is severely agoraphobic and despite being desperately lonely still believes that she's in love with her errant husband. She lives on State benefits and with the assistance of her parents. Is her agoraphobia conveniently hiding her inability to deal with the breakup of her marriage?

Carrie was psychologically abused by her father throughout her childhood. She is married and has a lovely 10 year old daughter. Her marriage has never been "ideal" because her husband pays her and their daughter almost no attention. She works part-time in a convenience store a block away from her home and spends the rest of her time washing, cleaning, ironing, cooking, gardening and decorating. Her husband has a full-time job and spends the rest of his time playing computer games. He holidays with his mates. He constantly puts Carrie down. Nothing she does is good enough. Her regularly tells her that she's ugly, although in reality she is an attractive woman. This constant pressure has led Carrie through anorexia, depression and irritable bowel syndrome to panic/anxiety disorder. Now agoraphobic, she cannot leave her area. She also has some social phobia. She believes that she still loves her husband but, despite recognising that he is abusing her, cannot imagine life without him. All medications and therapies - and there have been many - have proved ineffective. Is agoraphobia preferable to facing the reality of a sham marriage?

Denise is a stunningly beautiful 25 year old single girl living in a small rural town with her mother. Despite her unpretentious beauty and popularity at school, Denise has always lacked self confidence. After leaving school aged 17, Denise had a series of jobs in a nearby city in the beauty and fashion industries. Mainly due to her lack of belief in her capabilities, she was spectacularly unsuccessful in all of them. She began to have panic attacks at work, and this was an extra contributory factor in her losing jobs. Soon she began to have panic attacks at job interviews or on the way to job interviews. In time, this escalated to the point where she became completely unable to leave her small town. Due to her looks and her sexual expertise, she has had lots of boyfriends. They all leave when they discover just how much her agoraphobia controls her life, but there are plenty more blokes ready to take their place in her bed. Denise lives off State benefits and all the treatment for agoraphobia she has received so far has failed to help her. Does agoraphobia mask her fear of getting a job?

These ladies have one thing in common. They don't function as normal adults. Agoraphobia is a convenient excuse to avoid changing their lives. Sure, their freedom is limited: but is this limitation voluntary? From the information I have been able to glean, I believe that it is. While "suffering" from agoraphobia, these ladies can:

Avoid having to work for a living
Avoid relationships where the partners take equal responsibilities
Avoid going anywhere they don't want to go to
Avoid taking full responsibility for their lives
Get more than usual attention and/or care
Avoid making life-changing decisions

As far as I can see, agoraphobia works for these ladies. By making agoraphobia the reason why they can't change their lives, they can avoid tackling their real issues.

And what about Marie?

Over the years, her level of agoraphobia has changed many times. When the incentive is great enough, she can do almost anything. For example, although today - just the same as when I met her - she cannot cross the street to go to a shop or visit the doctor, she has previously gone round supermarkets, furniture stores, busy markets, accompanied me to a hospital appointment, visited the x-ray department in the middle of a large hospital, taken a theory test - on her own - for her driving licence on the 2nd floor of an office block, given birth to two children in hospital (but won't visit the same hospital today)....I could go on, but you get the picture.

Here's what she has told me -

I'll get out of agoraphobia one day
I know how to get out of agoraphobia, but it's not easy
I don't feel strong enough to change things yet
I'll start getting out of agoraphobia when I'm ready

All of the above means just one thing - Marie doesn't have sufficient incentive to change her life. She is comfortable with her current quality of life. Agoraphobia works for her, too. Her agoraphobia isn't her main problem - her main problem is whatever is preventing her from taking the necessary steps to conquer it.

Marie was agoraphobic when we met, and I accepted her as my life partner as she was (and is). If she never changes, I'll still want to be with her. It's my belief that Marie could get much more out of life if she would shed her agoraphobia. I know that she accepts this, at least in part, but she can also see that her responsibilities would increase. Is this what is killing off her incentive to change? Is she scared to assume the full responsibility of being a fully functioning adult? The story continues...

Minimising Monophobia, Messing with Medication

2009-11-11T18:16:00.003Z

Last time I went to Ireland, Marie, for the first time, remained at home. Her mother came to stay to reduce her anxiety. That was good.

This time, she did better.

This time, she invited her friend Becky to stay with her in the evenings, and decided to stay on her own in the daytime. And Becky doesn't even drive...

It went fine. Just the occasional anxiety attack. A great success.

Then I came back, tired but happy, ready to celebrate her success. Ripe for romance. Keen to canoodle.

But Marie went to bed.

And, for the majority of the time, that's where she has stayed since. She only gets up to eat or to use her laptop.

Apparently, during my absence, Marie had missed two days' medication. Only two days, but it was enough to wreak havoc. All the side effects of her medication began again.

We've been through this before. The side effects fade after a while and then disappear. It takes 1 - 4 weeks.

In the meantime, it's up to me to hold everything together. I attend to the domestic duties, chauffeur the children (who are brilliant and as supportive as their tender years will allow) and look after my business. The typical parent in a single parent family with two young children. Somehow I also fit in looking after Colm's needs and acting as an agony aunt to sad separated Colleen, hormonal expectant Collette, worried Jenna and Carla who has new job insecurities. I'm a busy, busy boy.

Today Marie looked a little better and got up before lunch time. I hope the worst is over.

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

2009-10-26T10:00:00.006Z

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!