Thank you Jo and Ray…..If you’re stationary, you’re not moving.

I always believed in the ripple effect, it is just that sometimes we don’t get the opportunity to acknowledge the impact that things have on us, and sometimes relatively, seemingly small things have the biggest impact. This is the story of Jo, and Ray and the meaning of life. The link to Ray’s little ride is at the bottom of the page.

In 2014 I had an operation, the risks of the surgery were classed as incalculable and I made my very skilled and wonderful surgeon promise not to let me die on the table…He kept his word but had to fight a little to keep his promise. I got better but lost a few little bits of me in the process. It was just a part of my life that was fraught with struggles and relative suffering, and during this time Jo, an old family friend from my school days had sent me several messages of encouragement and support and she sent me a link to a blog article called The meaning of Life in a blog- Ray’s Little Ride. 

I read the story and the message I took on board most was the one that I used in the title- it was the message he wanted to share-If you’re stationary, you’re not moving. The truth is that when things are difficult, and life is problematic this kind of pragmatic way of being is the most useful. Sometimes there is no way of things getting better at this particular point in time and sometimes the only thing you can do is just keep moving and know that however difficult you will adjust as best you can to the new circumstances. Ray had ALS, many of you might know it as Lou Gehrigs’s disease, he went from being perfectly fit and able in 2014 to being very dependent by 2015. He completed his amazing bike challenge of cycling across America between October and November 19th 2015 and it was an amazing feat of physical, emotional and spiritual endurance and he passed away in August 2016. I read the blog and took the message on board and continued to follow the blog, and learned so much from this amazing man in the last few months of his life.

It was this blog post and this blog story that in a sense inspired me to begin my own blogging journey, I felt that if there was anything that I could say or speak or tell that might act as a ripple for someone else then it was something that was okay to do. It also gave me an insight into new things that I could do that would give me a new me. It represented new challenges, new growth and new meaning. It represented moving forwards and not being stationary.

I just wanted to say thank you to Jo and Ray for the ripples they set in motion that day that have continued to contribute to my own journey. And Jo you are right, we have friends and family, and a roof over our heads and can still live our lives well. We have much to be grateful for. XXXXXXX

© Alison Jean Hankinson

Ray’s Little Ride- The Meaning of Life.

Honey be good to me-prednisone sucks.

Yesterday was a shit day

I really felt so sad

I had my haircut and  it looked good

But the rest of the day went bad.

 

It feels like I am burdened

By the needs of others

And when I need support from them

Their love for me seems to falter.

 

I do not want too much

I simply want you all

To give a hand when I yell for help

When my world is about to fall.

 

Prednisone makes my face look fat

It takes my self-esteem away

My world becomes a pit of writhing snakes

My fears won’t blow away.

 

Sometimes I need a helping hand

To piece my world together

The moment of need is usually temporary

And doesn’t last forever.

 

So if you see me crying

In a helpless kind of way

Give me a hand and pull me up

It’s just a miserable steroid day.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

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Self indulgent…sorry..steroid reduction- hitting the wall…. Beryl knows….miss you my prednisone buddy…..

napowrimo18  Day 22,

 

Banal bleatings from the bleughside.

I think I have a cold

My head feels rather hot

Whenever I blow my nose

There is yucky slime green snot.

 

It isn’t what I’d planned

For my poem and ode today

I guess I’ve made a rhyme

In a rather odious way.

 

I need to see the doctor

To put my ails on hold

Before this horrid virus

Does firmly take its toll.

 

My sinus are infected

My ears are hurting too

I think my dratted cold

May actually be the flu.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

All I can muster on Day 18 of Napowrimo….

Pass the tissues please…

Beneath the skin- The raw.

Haemorraghing hatred and fear

Poison oozing out through every microscopic pore

Spilling forth with septic spores of mistrust and malevolence.

I know not this place where I find myself.

 

I wish I had a rose for every time you spoke my name

The world would be a mesmerising memorial to you.

I catch my image in the mirror and see you have left all the hallmarks of your own life and loves upon my face, they are etched deep beneath the skin.

Sometimes I lose myself and see only you.

And I am faceless and forlorn.

I know not this place where I find myself.

 

There was a summer, a sea breeze,

A silent longing for a solitary moment of the life that was before.

These shores have weathered fierce and tumultuous tides

And now the pain recedes

And I am left awash with grief.

The hollow dreams, the futile hopes, the empty promises.

And I know not this place where I find myself.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson.

This is my offering for d’Verse open link night. The photo is my own, the white rose symbolises new beginnings and also remembrance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Refreshed and rejuvenated.

I took a short break from writing as it was important to regroup, reflect and re-energise. I return now for the onset of spring hopefully refreshed and rejuvenated.

It seems as if the world has gone mad in recent months, and I am not sure that at 51 my life has followed the path that seemed inevitable or appropriate. I do know that at 51 in the UK wisdom and experience count for very little in the current cut and thrust of an austere economic climate. I find myself overqualified and overlooked for less complex jobs and career options and “too expensive” in my own line of work. We were led to believe that if we worked hard and demonstrated dedication loyalty and good work ethic it would lead to justified rewards this appears not to be the case after the age of 50.

Anyway enough whingeing. I must cart on. I must continue to believe that somewhere someone will give me a break and continue to be thankful for the understanding and support of my two current employers for giving me the opportunity to contribute in a productive and meaningful way.

I did need to take a break though, and I have done jigsaw puzzles, walked briskly, read a book, played scrabble and gone for a winter wander in our little caravan. I return to find the crocuses blossoming and the fresh scent of spring on the doorstep. Life continues to astound in its ability to restore order through and after chaos. There is a natural order that somehow continues to exist, first there are the snowdrops, then the daffodils and crocuses, soon it will be the cherry blossom and the tulips.

Onward and upward. Tally-ho.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

The Invisible Worm…

Endo warrior.

Bravely fighting for breath somewhere between bloodbath

And deep painful chasm of menstrual despair

Adenomyosis crippling.

 

She took the apple from the tree

To set her free

Unaware of the invisible worm it carried deep inside.

 

It burrowed its way inside her,

It perforated her uterus

It wormed its way deep inside her pelvis.

And came to rest 3mm from her spine.

 

Mirena

Bayer’s little game-changer.

It changed her game forever.

 

Her hair fell out, her eyes bled,

Fevers ravaged her body

Her insides turned to poison.

And Arthritis set in.

 

The invisible worm

No crimson joy

It nearly did her life destroy.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This for d’verse where we were asked to use symbolism and I wanted to use “the invisible worm”.

Endometriosis and Adenomyosis blight the lives of many women. Unfortunately, the Mirena is another one of those medical catastrophes that were intended to give hope but for some caused irreparable and devastating damage and consequences.

The image was created by sammydavisdog on Flickr.

Visiting time.

It is a moment shared

Amid the peace and quiet

Of a drizzly afternoon.

 

No need to talk anymore

Our words and thoughts are feathers

Floating on the breeze

 

A smile, a nod to show we care

A hand held here

Love’s conversation needs.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson.

The image is my great grandfather John Henry Mcclenan- he was in the military hospital.

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