tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28594101551273506272024-03-06T01:12:49.291-08:00Henny's Chiltern MS BlogHenny's Chiltern MS Blog
The blog changes slowly, usually from month to month. Over time it tells a story: of one woman's adventures, a woman who has
MS. Or of course you can choose to read a single standalone post that appeals to you. The choice is yours .....
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-46385124637611551592020-04-04T06:41:00.001-07:002020-04-04T06:42:34.421-07:00CBD for me!<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
It’s CBD for me all the way – I discovered it about 6
months ago, thanks to a friend at the centre, and I wouldn’t be without it. I
have taken it every day since then. Here is my CBD story...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
It starts about 6 months ago when a nurse who used to
work at my care home mentioned it to me, as she had read some of the positive
news stories about it. I ordered<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>some
cheap tablets from eBay immediately, and was somewhat disappointed when they
had no affect. (I now realise that it is a mistake to buy the cheapest tablets,
and that it is important to buy CBD from a reliable and trusted source).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I then spoke to a friend the centre, who was raving about
the benefits she was experiencing thanks to CBD oil. I purchased some of the
oil that she was using.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I noticed the benefits after only 4 days! I was delighted
to find that I had a lot more energy, and was able to go for a full day out
without experiencing only fatigue<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Since then, I have noticed considerable other benefits,
including: –<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Less spasticity<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Less fatigue<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Shorter and less severe relapses<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Improved sleep<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Greater lung capacity<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
If you would like to talk to me further about CBD oil, I
would be delighted. I am always in the atrium on Thursdays between 12:30pm and
1:15pm. Just ask Reception to point me out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Go on, give it a go – you have nothing to lose except a
few pounds.And potentially a lot to gain...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
March 2020=<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-8079705864593085112020-01-19T12:03:00.000-08:002020-01-19T12:03:15.269-08:00A la recherche de temps perdu<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
feel pretty good about myself. This is despite the devastation that 20 years of
primary progressive MS has wroughd on my poor, beasieged body. Despite this, my
self esteem is intact, and in good health.<br />
<br />
For the last 7 years I have lived in a nursing home, where I have had a
wonderful quality of life. I am looked after by kind, friendly and
conscientious people. If I need to go somewhere, transport is provided free of
charge. I can order guest meals for visitors at no extra charge. I am very
important fortunate to have a self contained flat, one of only 2 in the
building. I have a large bed/sitting room, plus a spare guest bedroom for my
children to come and stay. It has 3 windows, so is flooded with natural light.
I have been able to decorate as I choose.<br />
<br />
This is all in stark contrast to my previous life at home. Unfortunately,
although I was with my beloved children, my ex-husband made life hellish
as he could. His rage at my MS meant that I had no space to think about how I
felt about being ill. I was too busy fielding his rage at me. He confused me
with my MS: they are not the same thing at all.<br />
<br />
He never abused me physically, however the emotional and mental abuse I
suffered, was terrible. He would frequently turn out the light, and leave me
sitting on a toilet in the dark. I never knew when, or if, he would return. The
daytime he spent brooding in his bedroom upstairs, and I never saw him
until the evening, when he would appear and watch TV with the family. I drank
vats of red wine, to numb the discomfort at his presence. He frequently told
the children in front of me, that I was clinically insane, and should be
ignored. Luckily, they ignored him. My response was never to shout (I didn’t
want the children to see endless shouting): instead, I would simply take the
piss out of him, and ridicule him wildly.<br />
<br />
At night, I slept downstairs in the lounge whilst he disappeared upstairs to
his bedroom, taking one of the dect handsets for the phone with him. Usually,
he would turn this off, so if I needed help in the night, that was just tough.
Woe betide I should ever be ill. In that case, I was told how disgusting I was,
especially if diarrhoea was involved. He once suggested that I should swallow
my own vomit , in order to make less mess.<br />
<br />
One night he got extremely drunk at a local fete. I was seriously concerned
about how he would put me to bed, so I slapped his face gently, in order to try
and sober him up a bit. He whacked me back so hard, I thought my head would
fall off. I immediately phoned the police.<br />
<br />
A very lovely woman police officer arrived, and kindly and gently put me to
bed. I felt awful that the children had looked on, with eyes as wide as
sources.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Once I agreed to move into care, he would frequently tell me “you’d better shut
your mouth – I could have you in care in a week, if I wanted”.<br />
<br />
After transferring to the nursing home, I was desperately miserable, and cried
myself to sleep every night for three months. Once I had settled down, I
realised it was in fact, the best thing that’s could I have happened to me. I
had successfully gotten away from him.<br />
<br />
Sadly, I don’t think my experience is unusual, amongst people diagnosed with
MS. I heard a shocking statistic – that 50% of married people with MS Break up
within 2 weeks of diagnosis. Given that 2 out of every three 3 three people
with MS are women, this means that it is women who are being dumped. Men
simply cannot cope. If the support for people who are newly diagnosed was
better,perhaps things would improve.<br />
<br />
I look back on that bleak period with some sadness. At least I was with my
beloved children, who were still at primary school. What I cannot forgive him
for, is taking away ruining 4 years of their childhood, when family life could
have been so much better.<br />
<br />
At least we are making up for lost time now. They both seem to have turned out
brilliantly, as kind, funny and intelligent human beings<br />
<br />
January 2020<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-69801013968765330472019-06-30T10:57:00.001-07:002019-06-30T10:57:17.101-07:00EVERY BREATH I TAKEThis little video (11 mins) tells the story of me and my MS, from the standpoint of my breathing and speech difficulties. I guess it may be of interest to people with similar problems. I hope you enjoy watching it, as much as I enjoyed making it<br />
<br />
Watch it now by doing this -<br />
<br />
Click this -<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.dropbox.com/h">https://www.dropbox.com/h</a><br />
<br />
Use these -<br />
<br />
user - jamie@boundaryless.co.uk<br />
Password - everybreath<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-31539978836427629182017-12-20T03:19:00.000-08:002017-12-20T03:19:02.336-08:00THE 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS Final draft<div class="MsoNormal">
Here’s
a little Christmas present from me to all the members.<br />
<br />
I wrote this mini-panto in one scene, for your entertainment over the holiday
period. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When
you read it, I think it’s most fun, if you imagine your 2 favourite male Centre
staff in the lead roles (perhaps Robert and Ant or,Andrew and Aaron?). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
would like to wish all the members a very Merry Christmas and new year. See you
in 2018!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
THE
12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
by Henrietta Whitsun-Jones<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Estimated
running time 35 - 45 minutes)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
--------------</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Characters: Dame Cillit (The elder, bossy, a bit of a prude<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame Bang, her younger sister, confident that she is more attractive
though that's not necessarily true, cheeky, likes sex)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-----------------<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Ladles and jelly spoons. Welcome!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: girls and boils. Nice to see you ... To see you (motions to audience as they
shout "Nice!")<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Welcome to the Brunel Christmas party. My name is Dame Cillit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: and I'm Dame Bang, Her sister <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm
the pretty one, by the way<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Oh, you are are you? Well, we'll see about that!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway,
enough of your bitching, dear I <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
was
busy talking to these lovely people. I should explain that we've escaped
from Jack and the Beanstalk round the corner, during the interval, so we can
come and have some festive fun with you lot. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: we thought it would be nice to have a sing song together. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Are
you all feeling in good voice?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Louder)
I said, are you all feeling in good voice?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: But before we get singing we need to get in the mood and get festive.
My sister and I are going to come round and give out some Christmas
crackers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
go amongst the audience and give each person 2 Christmas crackers)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Has everyone got a cracker? If not, then hold your hand up<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
give out any missing crackers). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now
what I would like you to do is this: after I count to 3, turn to your
neighbour, shake them by the hand and wish them a very Merry Christmas.
Then you can pull the cracker, and make sure to put on the party hat. And
make sure you've pulled a cracker with both your neighbours. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ready?
Here goes then. One, two, three!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Pause
while the audience pulls crackers). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well done everybody! I must say, you all look absolutely super. Are
you ready to start singing now?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Louder)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
said, are you all ready to start singing now?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good.
Now where's that song sheet I brought? Where did I put it? It looks like
a big rolled up piece of paper. Have you seen it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Exaggeratedly
mimes hunting high and low for the song sheet. Looks everywhere except
behind her). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where?
Here? Where?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh,
here it is! Now why didn't you just say so?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why
don't you use this festive looking stick to point to the words, so we all
know what we are singing?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Okay good idea. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: And watch where you're putting that thing!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
B looks at the audience with a big grin grin as if to say "shall I?
")<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
C bends over to tidy some rubbish into a basket. Dame B pokes her up the
bum with the stick). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Ooh! What was that?! I felt a little prick. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: (Aside to the audience)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: The first in a long time, I assure you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
C bends down again to do more tidying). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Pokes her again Dame C, holding her <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
bottom)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: There it was again! An even bigger prick!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: I think it's time we got on with some singing. Ready? The
words go with the tune of the 12 days of Christmas. After three
then. One, two, three. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
sing the song). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>pair
of Siamese twins</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, on willies</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me 3 thermal vests</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 4 Lion bars</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> On
the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 5 onion rings</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the sixth day of Christmas my True love gave to me, 6 physios phys-ing</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, 7 volunteers</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 8 MPs lying</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 9 fondant fancies</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the 10th day of Christmas my true love gave to me 10 carers caring</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the 11th day of Christmas my true love gave to me 11 maids a-Twerking</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the 12th day of Christmas my true love gave to me 12 Santas Santing</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well done everybody! Especially this side of the room – MY Half. You were
definitely louder. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Bullocks! MY Half were clearly the stronger singers. I would give them all a
chair if I could. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well, there's only one way to find out ...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(In
unison, to the audience)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both: Sing
off!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Here's how it's going to work. We'll all start off singing the first
day of Christmas together, then my half of the room will sing the second and
third day<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Then my half will take over and sing the<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
fourth
day of Christmas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And
we'll all come together for the fifth day, with 5 onion rings. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Back to my half of the room for days 6 and 7. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Swap back to my half for days 8 and 9. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Days 10 and 11 will be taken by my half.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Then we'll all come together and finish off with the 12th day of Christmas.
Okay? Ready? One, two, three. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
all sing the song, this time as the sisters have described). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Fantastic! Give yourselves a big clap. Now for a judges conference, I
think. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
go into a huddle for a moment)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: We'd like to announce that the sing off was officially<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(In
unison)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both:
A draw!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Now we'd like each half of the room to send up a volunteer to claim a
special prize. And the special prize is ...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: A Christmas kiss with none other, than our lovely leader of the physio
team, Judith!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Perhaps we should show them the prize. What do you think?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Judith sweetheart, would you like to come up and join us please?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Pause,
while Judith joins them)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Now come along, don't be shy. Put your hand up if you would like to
volunteer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
choose 2 male volunteers from the audience). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(To
the first volunteer)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Now, what's your name, Sir?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Volunteer
1: XXXX<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Hello XXXX. Are you ready to claim your prize, and give Judith a
big Christmas kiss?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: You're well in there, mate. Cos from what I hear, she's absolutely gagging
for it!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: How dare you talk about our Judith like that! Show some
respect! Any more sexual harassment min the workplace from you and
it will be the naughty chair for you!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Turns
to second volunteer)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: and what's your name, sir?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Volunteer
2: XXXX<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Hello XXXX. Are you ready for your prize?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: pucker up then. Absolutely no tongues!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: That's it! I've had enough! Naughty step. Now!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
B mumbles to self as she goes, "it's not fair that you get to boss me
around, just because you're older". She hangs her head and goes and
sits on a chair in the corner).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: let’s here a big clap for Judith and our volunteers. (To the volunteers:)
you can go and sit down now. (Looks at watch) Gosh! Is that the
time? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bang!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
interval must be nearly over<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Louder)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bang!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We'd
best be off We'll miss our next entrance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Even
louder)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bang!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: What are you banging on about now?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Come on! We'd better shift ourselves. Time to go!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Alright, alright. Keep your hair on. I'm coming. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well I must say, i've really enjoyed your Christmas party. Thanks so much
for having us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: You forgot to wish them Merry Christmas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: How could I forget? A very Merry Christmas to you all. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: And a happy new year<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
exit, piggybacking). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Henrietta
Whitsun-Jones<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-85194755674308319882017-12-13T02:45:00.002-08:002017-12-13T02:45:33.959-08:00THE 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS<div class="MsoNormal">
THE
12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
by Henrietta Whitsun-Jones<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Estimated
running time 35 - 45 minutes)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
--------------<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Characters: Dame Cillit (The elder, bossy, a bit of a prude<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
Bang, her younger sister, confident that she is more attractive though that's
not necessarily true, cheeky, likes sex)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-----------------<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Ladles and jelly spoons. Welcome!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: girls and boils. Nice to see you ... To see you (motions to audience as they
shout "Nice!")<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Welcome to the Brunel Christmas party. My name is Dame Cillit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: and I'm Dame Bang, Her sister <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm
the pretty one, by the way<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Oh, you are are you? Well, we'll see about that!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway,
enough of your bitching, dear I <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
was
busy talking to these lovely people. I should explain that we've escaped
from Jack and the Beanstalk round the corner, during the interval, so we can
come and have some festive fun with you lot. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: we thought it would be nice to have a sing song together. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Are
you all feeling in good voice?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Louder)
I said, are you all feeling in good voice?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: But before we get singing we need to get in the mood and get festive.
My sister and I are going to come round and give out some Christmas
crackers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
go amongst the audience and give each person 2 Christmas crackers)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Has everyone got a cracker? If not, then hold your hand up<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
give out any missing crackers). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now
what I would like you to do is this: after I count to 3, turn to your
neighbour, shake them by the hand and wish them a very Merry Christmas.
Then you can pull the cracker, and make sure to put on the party hat. And
make sure you've pulled a cracker with both your neighbours. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ready?
Here goes then. One, two, three!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Pause
while the audience pulls crackers). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well done everybody! I must say, you all look absolutely super. Are
you ready to start singing now?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Louder)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
said, are you all ready to start singing now?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Cups
hand to ear). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good.
Now where's that song sheet I brought? Where did I put it? It looks like
a big rolled up piece of paper. Have you seen it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Exaggeratedly
mimes hunting high and low for the song sheet. Looks everywhere except
behind her). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where?
Here? Where?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh,
here it is! Now why didn't you just say so?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why
don't you use this festive looking stick to point to the words, so we all
know what we are singing?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Okay good idea. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: And watch where you're putting that thing!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
B looks at the audience with a big grin grin as if to say "shall I?
")<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
C bends over to tidy some rubbish into a basket. Dame B pokes her up the
bum with the stick). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Ooh! What was that?! I felt a little prick. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: (Aside to the audience)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: The first in a long time, I assure you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
C bends down again to do more tidying). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Pokes her again Dame C, holding her <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
bottom)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: There it was again! An even bigger prick!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: I think it's time we got on with some singing. Ready? The
words go with the tune of the 12 days of Christmas. After three
then. One, two, three. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
sing the song). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>pair
of Siamese twins</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me 2 strap on willies</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me 3 thermal vests</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 4 Lion bars</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> On
the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 5 onion rings</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 6 choppas choppa'ing</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me 7 cars a-honking</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 8 MPs lying</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 9 fondant fancies</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the 10th day of Christmas my true love gave to me 10 carers caring</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the 11th day of Christmas my true love gave to me 11 maids a-Twerking</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>On
the 12th day of Christmas my true love gave to me 12 Santas Santing</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well done everybody! Especially this side of the room – MY Half. You were
definitely louder. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Bullocks! MY Half were clearly the stronger singers. I would give them all a
chair if I could. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well, there's only one way to find out ...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(In
unison, to the audience)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both: Sing
off!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Here's how it's going to work. We'll all start off singing the first
day of Christmas together, then my half of the room will sing the second and
third day<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Then my half will take over and sing the<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
fourth
day of Christmas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And
we'll all come together for the fifth day, with 5 onion rings. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Back to my half of the room for days 6 and 7. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Swap back to my half for days 8 and 9. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Days 10 and 11 will be taken by my half.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Then we'll all come together and finish off with the 12th day of Christmas.
Okay? Ready? One, two, three. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
all sing the song, this time as the sisters have described). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Fantastic! Give yourselves a big clap. Now for a judges conference, I
think. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
go into a huddle for a moment)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: We'd like to announce that the sing off was officially<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(In
unison)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both:
A draw!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Now we'd like each half of the room to send up a volunteer to claim a
special prize. And the special prize is ...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: A Christmas kiss with none other, than our lovely leader of the physio
team, Judith!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Perhaps we should show them the prize. What do you think?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Judith sweetheart, would you like to come up and join us please?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Pause,
while Judith joins them)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Now come along, don't be shy. Put your hand up if you would like to
volunteer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
choose 2 male volunteers from the audience). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(To
the first volunteer)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Now, what's your name, Sir?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Volunteer
1: XXXX<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Hello XXXX. Are you ready to claim your prize, and give Judith a
big Christmas kiss?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: You're well in there, mate. Cos from what I hear, she's absolutely gagging
for it!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: How dare you talk about our Judith like that! Show some
respect! Any more sexual harassment min the workplace from you and
it will be the naughty chair for you!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Turns
to second volunteer)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: and what's your name, sir?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Volunteer
2: XXXX<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Hello XXXX. Are you ready for your prize?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: pucker up then. Absolutely no tongues!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: That's it! I've had enough! Naughty step. Now!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Dame
B mumbles to self as she goes, "it's not fair that you get to boss me
around, just because you're older". She hangs her head and goes and
sits on a chair in the corner).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: let’s here a big clap for Judith and our volunteers. (To the volunteers:)
you can go and sit down now. (Looks at watch) Gosh! Is that the
time? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bang!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
interval must be nearly over<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Louder)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bang!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We'd
best be off We'll miss our next entrance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Even
louder)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bang!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: What are you banging on about now?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Come on! We'd better shift ourselves. Time to go!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: Alright, alright. Keep your hair on. I'm coming. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: Well I must say, i've really enjoyed your Christmas party. Thanks so much
for having us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: You forgot to wish them Merry Christmas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
C: How could I forget? A very Merry Christmas to you all. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dame
B: And a happy new year<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(They
exit, piggybacking). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Henrietta Whitsun-Jone</span></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-40848669510171435062017-12-12T10:55:00.000-08:002017-12-12T10:55:04.601-08:00FESTIVE FUN AT THE SOCIAL GROUP <div class="MsoNormal">
December
2017<br />
<br />
I dropped in on the Centre‘s Social Group in November. I should have taken some
Kleenex with me, because I laughed till I cried!<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuHNLJSX5vWIzTutUh2EhlRPpsXhXZaeSq4RT_e02yBKr9wvoQM1oYeVObypglXXmZdEGkCtRpA4rSi2cAMj9hyphenhyphenTaOkd0gGX1dLTmDKuFIqAt946bavFDbBQVJtgdsDu5cLu-M1n-P4w/s1600/IMG-20171212-WA0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1052" data-original-width="1600" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuHNLJSX5vWIzTutUh2EhlRPpsXhXZaeSq4RT_e02yBKr9wvoQM1oYeVObypglXXmZdEGkCtRpA4rSi2cAMj9hyphenhyphenTaOkd0gGX1dLTmDKuFIqAt946bavFDbBQVJtgdsDu5cLu-M1n-P4w/s320/IMG-20171212-WA0002.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal">
good
company and laughter at the Centre‘s Social Group<o:p></o:p></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br />
It was such an indulgent pleasure, just to share a cup of coffee and a chat
with some lovely people. We played some great games too - simple entertainment,
but so very enjoyable, and full of fun and laughter.<br />
<br />
The Social Group is a very relaxed and welcoming environment for all, no matter
what your level of disability (there are always plenty of volunteers eager to
help in any way that will make it possible for someone to join in, whether it’s
playing a game, or drinking your coffee.<br />
<br />
There are always different people coming along, not just the regulars. So
everyone is given a warm well come equally. Carers, are, of course, most
welcome too. <br />
<br />
Peoplec tend to come along for whatever time they have available between 10 AM
and 12 PM.<br />
<br />
So why not join the Social Group’s Christmas Party on Thursday 21st December 10
AM till 12 PM. Expect festive games and yummy seasonal snacks - and plenty of
fun!<br />
<br />
All you need to do, is to wear something Christmassy, and a big smile ...<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-26744450227924726132017-11-05T09:37:00.000-08:002017-12-06T04:35:01.176-08:00TAKING THE PLUNGE <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
November 2017<br />
<br />
Water seems to have a miraculous, and therapeutic, effect on the human body. I
know it does for me. I feel more relaxed and more interested in movement. Since
I have had MS, being submerged in water makes movement much easier as the
weight of my body is already supported by the buoyancy of the water<br />
<br />
So I jumped at the chance of trying hydrotherapy at the Centre when the physio
team offered me an 8 week course.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
was asked to bring 2 volunteers with me, to get changed and showered, before
and after. I asked a team of 3 friends who were happy to oblige.<br />
<br />
I <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">admit I had a few
niggling little anxieties: did the physio team have experience of dealing with
a wheelchair user like me, in the pool? After all, I have just limited
movement in my right arm and hand, pus good head movement: how would I
cope with being in the water? My confidence level was not high. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyVCkj2EyoE2L4elVNRS9zbf_NpEwMLa7vwql5AmKLqYEQQR6Jj0g9-MBPyuo4_X78n84vlfw5-vEO_YD6ABg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However,
I need not have worried. Everything went swimmingly!I felt totally comfortable
and very relaxed in the lovely, warm water.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
felt completely safe and supported by my physio, who was clearly highly
trained and very experienced. Changing was a breeze with my volunteer
friends who managed the manual handling with ease (one was a retired nurse, and
one was a retired professional carer, so perfect for the job!).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Week
by week I saw improvements: better breathing and better<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
sitting
posture in my wheelchair. I certainly enjoyed it more and more each week. In
particular, it was a real pleasure to move part of my anatomy that in a wheelchair,
remains static: my pelvis!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
therapy itself progressed steadily from week to week. I was most impressed by
the way my physio developed the program of hydrotherapy, constantly adding new
exercises or the level of difficulty. Meanwhile, however, things
seemed to come more easily to me. My volunteer-friends were always watching,
and they confirmed the improvements they clearly saw for themselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Overall,
I loved my experience of hydrotherapy and have put my name down to repeat it
sometime next year. Never has therapy been so thoroughly enjoyable!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If
you would like to try hydrotherapy, speak to any of the physio team, who will
be happy to make arrangements to add your name to the list. Go on, why not
take the plunge?!<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0Wendover, Aylesbury HP22, UK51.761877 -0.7397789999999986351.7223575 -0.82080299999999862 51.801396499999996 -0.65875499999999865tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-36168918121068896742017-10-29T14:12:00.002-07:002017-10-29T14:12:41.511-07:00I love my Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love living in my care home! Life in a care home often suffers from a bad
image. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, I find just the opposite. Given the rubbish
cards I have been dealt, I believe that my quality of life here is as good (or
maybe even better?) than if I was able bodied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am very fortunate to have one of a very limited number
of self-contained flats within the unit. I have a main room with kitchen, a
bathroom and a small separate bedroom, where my kids can come and stay with me
at weekends. Thanks to this, I have been able to maintain a close relationship
with my kids over the past few years, while they grow into adulthood. I
appreciate this all the more, since due to my condition, I became unable to
live at home with them any longer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My main room includes a little kitchen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSkgQ7E-tJvSMY-iTt9BTF5hbSWOt7SjpeRsmVRtwNC-hzlSaLNOW1pdUPgqGhWd8lBPGRBtiHsqERld4-7dyXO723RF1bHRSqIdkAxeLzkkloBwk86bFAns7FCAFQg0jc1JKilL3yYs/s1600/Henny+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSkgQ7E-tJvSMY-iTt9BTF5hbSWOt7SjpeRsmVRtwNC-hzlSaLNOW1pdUPgqGhWd8lBPGRBtiHsqERld4-7dyXO723RF1bHRSqIdkAxeLzkkloBwk86bFAns7FCAFQg0jc1JKilL3yYs/s320/Henny+1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here, I have the independence and privacy I want, whilst
having constant access to the care that I need. Carers visit me throughout the
day at set times. Should I need help at other times of the day or night, I feel
secure in the knowledge that help is only 5 minutes away, if I ring my call be<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love my little flat! It is flooded with natural light,
benefiting from 3 windows. The view from
the windows is of trees in the garden below. I have been lounge given license
to decorate and furnish the flat as I wish. Here, I have been able to create as
homely an environment as possible, so that my kids feel comfortable and relaxed
whilst visiting me. They feel as though they are visiting me in my own home,
rather than a care home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">View from one of my lounge windows </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8vOTkGajHLJa1TIWxqn3QegsXjVqjIc8wEsiaEnjqeMIyQF2YkMg0qSktClq0Y5IpdIt1euzibWJJQPsYvAugKoHpit6HVnzDXgppMdSWllM_MuYaw5D-e6kMmEZTxR4Cz5jQxGd7pg/s1600/Henny+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="640" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8vOTkGajHLJa1TIWxqn3QegsXjVqjIc8wEsiaEnjqeMIyQF2YkMg0qSktClq0Y5IpdIt1euzibWJJQPsYvAugKoHpit6HVnzDXgppMdSWllM_MuYaw5D-e6kMmEZTxR4Cz5jQxGd7pg/s320/Henny+7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All the staff are friendly, caring and professional. Some
of them have become valued friends, even after leaving the company. The staff
interact with my kids in a relaxed and friendly manner - several of the carers,
they know by name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In fact, everyone I have met at this care home, no matter
where they fit into the food chain, is approachable, friendly and supportive.
No matter how busy their schedule, everyone has a ready smile, and makes you
feel that you are important, and that they care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have excellent access to transport, and I am well
supported in getting to medical appointments, or just out for a shopping trip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is a full program of activities available. So far I
have been on some memorable excursions, including
Woburn Safari Park and Sealife in Birmingham. We are going 10 pin bowling later
this month. Trips in planning, include Buckingham Palace and Harry Potter
World. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I petted an elephant at Woburn Safari Park</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgH-4j2MFfzJYQYMxkMzNjwx16QZnmIUKK1-lU2E_nYDFm6ftJlFMLby5uTLC3ZKRkPcaLFuNCmJI5Iwe-m1g0oSQcRvoelf9X0hb0MqcYiVdoyXxSawLxWPSu4rKxtPqQDkRlVyp-2t0/s1600/Henny+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgH-4j2MFfzJYQYMxkMzNjwx16QZnmIUKK1-lU2E_nYDFm6ftJlFMLby5uTLC3ZKRkPcaLFuNCmJI5Iwe-m1g0oSQcRvoelf9X0hb0MqcYiVdoyXxSawLxWPSu4rKxtPqQDkRlVyp-2t0/s320/Henny+6.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">18 months ago, the care home helped me to realise a
dream: to design and build a small garden. I was allocated a small plot within
the communal garden, and given license to develop as I wished. Gardening is my
passion.. I designed a Mediterranean-style garden in miniature, and PJ Care
staff built and planted it for me. Due to my condition, I am unable to tolerate
hot sun for more than a few minutes. Now I have A delightful outdoor space in
which to sit comfortability in my wheelchair in the shade, and socialise with
family and friends. It is my pride and joy!
Also, an achievement I can feel proud of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My little garden and patio<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXgTg4ecdOLWXWRpj-aqaDA8jScu4Xpyfqio7cUW7F3xdE3OON8oetdgL3RpF0lgY9moINtd62oHk0uRqsS8ATO4npA_WinnQftMAq0h_bPM475bWYCVcP9PqOGmehqUFgvEOjX2QOpc/s1600/Henny+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXgTg4ecdOLWXWRpj-aqaDA8jScu4Xpyfqio7cUW7F3xdE3OON8oetdgL3RpF0lgY9moINtd62oHk0uRqsS8ATO4npA_WinnQftMAq0h_bPM475bWYCVcP9PqOGmehqUFgvEOjX2QOpc/s320/Henny+3.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0vds0F7hAWlm0GJvOgVZktb2B7aQM40mkiND-bfddZZiAhZwLV0qAl6wrRn_Vsnt87PruETxDJuLoeEhpfMg89GKhNFYO1qR_CiZJyOAE5mN2bfZKlMlZLbbC7FKJGT7_vPVthpR1R8/s1600/Henny+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0vds0F7hAWlm0GJvOgVZktb2B7aQM40mkiND-bfddZZiAhZwLV0qAl6wrRn_Vsnt87PruETxDJuLoeEhpfMg89GKhNFYO1qR_CiZJyOAE5mN2bfZKlMlZLbbC7FKJGT7_vPVthpR1R8/s320/Henny+4.jpg" width="240" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCekdMyfwQmUM8iOwwU6F9Dm356AF2YPkDZzDLsUzFOTSv1XtECT0ldl6WEtbXwKyz4c2VBOeP78ZRZQpberVqH3kb1aWcmultVV_FsyY-lJD1n2-0rAzOMwkf1cSsiaqw-trx4y9zoo/s1600/Henny+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCekdMyfwQmUM8iOwwU6F9Dm356AF2YPkDZzDLsUzFOTSv1XtECT0ldl6WEtbXwKyz4c2VBOeP78ZRZQpberVqH3kb1aWcmultVV_FsyY-lJD1n2-0rAzOMwkf1cSsiaqw-trx4y9zoo/s320/Henny+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really enjoy my
meals. The food here is excellent! A special menu has been designed for me,
tailored to my dietary needs and taste.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A summer lunch, Shared with a friend on my patio<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKQ6gN_IvS3lewP7ib9HV3Ot_1rL1pHU8hGyNuTQWvGF2jjPdnqJPJqV0FNf5LXiSPL5fTg_nlLPcp3MFQfKWZY8cPIszINbiHH3Np5uyt3mTNWGrwOaFx0_TWIJd7SydfouA79ycMOA/s1600/Henny+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKQ6gN_IvS3lewP7ib9HV3Ot_1rL1pHU8hGyNuTQWvGF2jjPdnqJPJqV0FNf5LXiSPL5fTg_nlLPcp3MFQfKWZY8cPIszINbiHH3Np5uyt3mTNWGrwOaFx0_TWIJd7SydfouA79ycMOA/s320/Henny+5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So life in care can be
varied, fun and full of love and laughter. Overall, I love my life here!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">October 2017<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Henrietta Whitsun-Jones</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-79147968827533135152017-05-16T04:46:00.001-07:002017-05-26T05:14:42.204-07:00Speaking for Myself<div class="MsoPlainText">
Language is what differentiates human beings from our
animal cousins. Spoken language is the cement that binds us to other people.
Communication between people is what enables cooperation, and builds
civilisations. Moreover, man is a sociable animal, so we are at our happiest
when with other people. Being able to communicate with them, build
relationships and friendships is key.</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Robbing a person of the power of speech must be one of
the cruellest symptoms associated with MS. It is certainly personally, the one I
dread the most.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Six months ago my lungs and speech were not in good
shape. I was struggling to breathe properly and my speech was reduced to a mere
whisper. My personality changed accordingly. I became very passive and
introspective. Communication with other people felt like climbing a mountain,
so a lot of time, I just didn't bother. It was as though I was imprisoned inside
an invisible plastic bubble: inside it, to me my voice sounded perfectly
normal, yet outside the bubble, to listeners, my voice was a mare squeak. I
became a silent observer on the world, as it unfolded in front of me. Emotionally, it was a real low point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Clearly, I needed to take action. So I asked my GP to
refer me to a respiratory clinic at the Oxford Churchill Hospital. I had been
told that the clinic has a very good reputation. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
When they saw me they ran a few tests, and measured my
lung capacity as just 22%. No wonder I was struggling! I saw a very charming
consultant, who felt that a Cough Assist machine would be of benefit to me. I
was overjoyed at this, as I already had experience of using a Cough Assist
device with spectacular results (see postings 'It's good to talk' (May 2015)
and Henny Calling' (October 2014)).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I was issued with
a machine and given instructions for home use. All the carers at my care home
were trained on how to use the machine – a very simple matter of placing the
face mask over my nose and mouth, and switching on and off (all the correct
settings had already been preset at the hospital by a respiratory
physiotherapist. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnLdhqx7xOugLW6Uou1W-BxvnbxNqBWuuAjU2MbxgzQxtE87QkDAZs4FLAsd8Flrb41h7cG553DmEzeBoBx8V8cG65orZEwGg6O3dx1wzDpQp42f8PJ5MeoWM2nCyOWivxTI799xSWWI/s1600/Heny+cough+machine.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnLdhqx7xOugLW6Uou1W-BxvnbxNqBWuuAjU2MbxgzQxtE87QkDAZs4FLAsd8Flrb41h7cG553DmEzeBoBx8V8cG65orZEwGg6O3dx1wzDpQp42f8PJ5MeoWM2nCyOWivxTI799xSWWI/s320/Heny+cough+machine.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 'nippy Clearway Cough Assist' machine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I noticed improvement after only a couple of days. After
several weeks of using the machine twice a day, my breathing and speech were
immeasurably better. My friends kept referring to my ' new voice'. My
gregarious nature was restored to me. My social life blossomed, and I revelled
in my new ability to participate in group discussions and social situations. I
felt confident about speaking to strangers, whether in person or on the phone.
I lfelt as if I had been reborn into the human race!</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
After 3 months of using the Cough Assist machine twice a
day, I returned to the hospital for a review. I was retested, and the good
results confirmed what I already knew: –<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Blood oxygen
Before 5.17<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
After 10 weeks
6.45<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Vital capacity
0.64<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
After 10 weeks
0.71<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Peak cough flow
Before 121<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
After 10 weeks 141<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
There had clearly been a marked improvement. Things were
definitely going in the right direction, so much so, that my respiratory physio
recommended I increase my usage from twice, to 3 times a day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Unfortunately, very
little research has been done into the use of the Cough Assist machine
with MS patients. However, the Oxford Churchill respiratory clinic are aware
anecdotally, that the machine helps approx 3: 10 MS patients.. Of those 3 who
benefit, it helps them (like me) rather a lot. The MS Society estimates there
are 127,000 people in the UK with MS. Let's say about 50% of them may have
lung, breathing or speech difficulties. If 33% of them could benefit from using
a Cough Assist Machine, that's a potential 20,995 people who could benefit from
the device. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
If you are a person with MS reading this, and you have
lung, breathing or speech difficulties, it may be worth exploring whether or
not a Cough Assist machine, or similar device, could help you. If this is the
case, I suggest in the first place that you speak to your GP and ask
them to refer you to a respiratory specialist, who could advise on the best
course of action.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Good luck!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Henrietta Whitsun-Jones</div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-20338051301278141982017-04-18T08:06:00.001-07:002017-04-18T08:06:50.706-07:00Reiki Rocks!<div class="MsoPlainText">
Whatever helps, is okay by me, when it comes to MS.
Whether it's massage, marijuana, acupuncture or communing with pixies from
outer space. If it helps, then it must be okay. However, what's good for the
goose is not always good for the gander. In other words, not everything helps
everyone</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I know that many people with MS swear by hyperbaric
oxygen therapy. Recently I tried it, and found no benefit whatsoever. I was
disappointed. However, life often has a funny way of putting you in just the
right place at the right time unexpectedly. That's what happened to me, when I
tried Reiki therapy, instead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
My very first session blew my socks off! I had so much
energy for 3 days, that I had trouble getting to sleep. This is a woman who
normally nods off in front of the telly by 8 PM. My muscle spasms were about
80% better! My body went through a 3 day
detox, I drank like a fish, yet went to the toilet normally. I couldn't believe how much the Reiki
affected me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
So what actually happens during a session? Well, my therapist,
Sabina, treats me while sitting in my wheelchair. Sometimes she puts her hands
on me, and it's amazing to feel how hot and full of energy they are. At other
times she simply hovers her hands a few inches from my body. It's as simple as
that!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
For me, having Reiki is a bit like being struck by a
lightning bolt, but in a good way. The therapist is like a lightning
conductor:channelling raw energy, converting it into something helpful and
healthful, and skilfully directing it to where it is most needed in the body.
When Sabina holds her hands a few inches from my eyes, I feel the heat and
energy from her hands particularly intensely.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
With my eyes closed, sometimes at this point, I see
colours or I am aware of a bright white light bathing my whole body.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Afterwards, I feel like I have had 2000 volts of energy
pumped into my body. People tell me I
look 'fantastic', if a little wild-eyed (pupils dilated, looking very
''awake'). I find that I can then slowly release that energy throughout the
week, until I see my therapist again, for another charge. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
One of my biggest problems, as an MS sufferer, is fatigue
and lack of energy. This tends to accumulate throughout the day. By the
evening, I am always in bed, and usually nodding off in front of the telly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Therefore all the extra energy that Reiki sessions are
giving me, is so very welcome. I find that I am able to be awake, alert, and
talkative, way into the evening. This has greatly improved the quality of the
time I spend with my son and daughter who usually visit me in the care home in
the evening. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Since having Reiki as well as having far less fatigue, I
have also experienced many other benefits: general body detox, reduced muscle
spasms, improved bowel function, improved skin condition (sometimes the skin on
my bum threatens to break down due to sitting in my wheelchair for long
periods).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
We respond to treatments in different ways. Others may
not get the same wide-ranging benefits
from Reiki that I experience. However, one thing I can say, is that if whatever
works is okay, then Reiki is more than okay by me<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
April 2017<o:p></o:p></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-70757534006616281672017-01-01T11:47:00.003-08:002017-05-15T03:04:01.038-07:00Hygge New Year!<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">December
2016<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">This
Christmas and New Year in the UK, all trendy people want to be Danish.
All things Danish are the height of fashion: Danish food, Danish fashion,
Danish TV drama, Danish culture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Good
news for me, being half Danish thanks to my Danish mum. So I am officially half
trendy!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjMSOsSC-pOiDR0tK9WEUuNPypmEXM2iLz1lzkCMACuPeaF8I7w_ixsXUKTe4RHfRtp06M2HdFQS_7RmJ0Xd96sUp3n4kDii4YP9uVmJnzFyzliP7MUSflmnnedXH2vGBF-AQuf0Ztu0/s1600/HCA+1st+January.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjMSOsSC-pOiDR0tK9WEUuNPypmEXM2iLz1lzkCMACuPeaF8I7w_ixsXUKTe4RHfRtp06M2HdFQS_7RmJ0Xd96sUp3n4kDii4YP9uVmJnzFyzliP7MUSflmnnedXH2vGBF-AQuf0Ztu0/s200/HCA+1st+January.gif" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: start;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">My great grandfather, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: start;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hans Christian Hansen, taken at his wedding, circa 1895. He was a farmer. </span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ922L6GE7Y4H6ube70iDdYFzdHHgX4mDY-DxzJ3y4_UDPNM4erqTH-bNzgFznnj1r_n1umq3qAoMAX56VoL-rVISjSYQt8YjzqE0Lol9iWFlPE_Nh7OO4FzT4sxVPvJ9vmE3aWQRRo4/s1600/Grandma+1st+January.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ922L6GE7Y4H6ube70iDdYFzdHHgX4mDY-DxzJ3y4_UDPNM4erqTH-bNzgFznnj1r_n1umq3qAoMAX56VoL-rVISjSYQt8YjzqE0Lol9iWFlPE_Nh7OO4FzT4sxVPvJ9vmE3aWQRRo4/s200/Grandma+1st+January.png" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoPlainText" style="font-size: medium; text-align: start;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">His wife, Anna Grapp. She was Prussian. Family folklore says she died ypumg of a broken heart (she lost baby twin boys).<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">There
has certainly been a Scandi-Christmas theme in the frosty air
recently. Perfect for this time of year. You know the kind of thing:
firtrees covered in snow, reindeer, log fires, trendy Scandinavian knitwear ...
that kind of thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymHBxYzdD7bwvDf-Bu_lJtnvDIdNYU4WUA-YqMAmqPCJd0J42Jm4xNNSwQvmPWaWuJp11b-t9-LCnA7b1foykXAGz3NC53SwX7VibjoGspqMx6DTVQr2zSltYeaNyM4ZoKZ4lSVIFcrM/s1600/HCA+50+1st+January.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymHBxYzdD7bwvDf-Bu_lJtnvDIdNYU4WUA-YqMAmqPCJd0J42Jm4xNNSwQvmPWaWuJp11b-t9-LCnA7b1foykXAGz3NC53SwX7VibjoGspqMx6DTVQr2zSltYeaNyM4ZoKZ4lSVIFcrM/s200/HCA+50+1st+January.jpg" width="120" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Hans aged about 50, circa 1915 as my mum would have known him as her 'Farfar' or grandfather, specifically 'Father's Father.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">But
what everyone is talking about more than anythin<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">g </span> is <i>hygge, </i>a Danish word and
cultural concept. <i>Hygge</i> has no single English translation.
Instead many words describe it such as <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">cosiness, charm, happiness, security, familiarity, comfort, reassurance,
kinship, and simpleness. A</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> very
simple act, such as li</span>ghting a candle in a window, can evoke hygge:
making a simple moment of the now, special and beautiful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
me then, <i>hygge</i> is a form of Scandi-Mindfulnesss, something simple,
beautiful and special that is available to all of us, all of the time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMRGgotRq4V2Gt7xg56jILAYmRI552NZyEk1PfJGdBRsFuEQkvl-wPc_hJfL7h6yktjXwY9MwXAb3kZ_yt0bqq_N16mZ-t2Xf4UGnhUeXWmHi84utl57wetQtSM8lnTVVjpAE4_O-M704/s1600/Mum+aged+7.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMRGgotRq4V2Gt7xg56jILAYmRI552NZyEk1PfJGdBRsFuEQkvl-wPc_hJfL7h6yktjXwY9MwXAb3kZ_yt0bqq_N16mZ-t2Xf4UGnhUeXWmHi84utl57wetQtSM8lnTVVjpAE4_O-M704/s200/Mum+aged+7.gif" width="117" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><br />My very blonde mum, aged 7, circa 1937. She is with brother, sister, friend and family dog. She was brought up mostly on her grandfather's farm, </span><span style="font-size: small;">in Farsø<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> (Note the thatched farmhouse in the background).</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Strangely, I feel more and more Danish the older I get. A
bit like a piece of Danish Blue cheese: more and more blue veins, deeper and
more mature – and certainly more smelly!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUyCh-e9YnGpQIBnhJ1M4cKU1kcy5f7P9ryrVqytBLp2ZpwuiqGaTvF-jbr97Vdrxnd0pPRb91gUm27hHUZsXlkLS4DkF_-BLABZfyDPg0oxeR4cTMsZgTEFy7HjiygeefvYZ1zaLgXzQ/s1600/show+biz+henny+mum.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUyCh-e9YnGpQIBnhJ1M4cKU1kcy5f7P9ryrVqytBLp2ZpwuiqGaTvF-jbr97Vdrxnd0pPRb91gUm27hHUZsXlkLS4DkF_-BLABZfyDPg0oxeR4cTMsZgTEFy7HjiygeefvYZ1zaLgXzQ/s320/show+biz+henny+mum.png" width="259" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Mum being glam showgirl here, at 29 in 1955. In a West
End production of 'Kismet' (she was a trained classical singer). She fell for
her leading man, my dad, who was playing the evil baddie, the Wazir. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDRbsqJgrcti4OlVuV2tMFKqifKAPjDTHyYfHOVA85PoRfoIaWijZbB57i-BTsC9WOUM6SdzlS98GqNIL1QsU9bzNy9QmadoXrM_ELZfnAdKV_N9QKVCbqqD2HdKtF0a_Jr3B5uask8Q/s1600/Mum+and+Henny.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDRbsqJgrcti4OlVuV2tMFKqifKAPjDTHyYfHOVA85PoRfoIaWijZbB57i-BTsC9WOUM6SdzlS98GqNIL1QsU9bzNy9QmadoXrM_ELZfnAdKV_N9QKVCbqqD2HdKtF0a_Jr3B5uask8Q/s320/Mum+and+Henny.gif" width="193" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">My mum age of 35, in 1961, being an English housewife, mother </span><span style="font-size: small;">and Maggie Thatcher lookalike!</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">. Her first born is me!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghuwqp7T2RZFZQLfrfwmav3d4znCDYus3U0wM2DvuKz8y4MbWlQ95Q_Jtfrh0VMuIJVjeQuyUBbTk-LexulbM4tILIXguzZUCgl79nNuglYChDd7u3G9az6wSwp09ttLsVl0XQ4tO54S4/s1600/mum+and+girls+1st+January.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghuwqp7T2RZFZQLfrfwmav3d4znCDYus3U0wM2DvuKz8y4MbWlQ95Q_Jtfrh0VMuIJVjeQuyUBbTk-LexulbM4tILIXguzZUCgl79nNuglYChDd7u3G9az6wSwp09ttLsVl0XQ4tO54S4/s200/mum+and+girls+1st+January.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Mum aged 51, in 1977, with her 2 teenage daughters, on the way to Denmark for a family visit. My sister is 14. I am 16 – punk has just exploded, and so has my hair!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">You
can find out more about hygge from this excellent (and funny)
article in the Telegraph newspaper: – <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/wellbeing/mood-and-mind/Danish-cosy-hygge-lifestyle-cosiness-winter-warmth-Nordic-Danes-Scandi-home-interiors/">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/wellbeing/mood-and-mind/Danish-cosy-hygge-lifestyle-cosiness-winter-warmth-Nordic-Danes-Scandi-home-interiors/</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3oQ_X57Eov3nx3DYM5InNV1rnyt93hovoyflbAHCxN13fFP9csfIvqhD0t03xLkh5Gp9_A8yScx1AKuZzJ9w9NkMXU-qrJWdfu7YzuUZ-x1suQu5owUQ8LWv_XaKMqSh0UVp3byatw8/s1600/Mum+7b.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3oQ_X57Eov3nx3DYM5InNV1rnyt93hovoyflbAHCxN13fFP9csfIvqhD0t03xLkh5Gp9_A8yScx1AKuZzJ9w9NkMXU-qrJWdfu7YzuUZ-x1suQu5owUQ8LWv_XaKMqSh0UVp3byatw8/s320/Mum+7b.png" width="226" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mum at 76, in 2002, on Brighton seafront. She was born in Aalborg, north Jutland. My
children know her affectionately as Mormor (literally, 'Mother's Mother'). </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZ8pe5_BbEc6HIVpU-aaQv3kSkvJa-lwc2NcTo3TW0u19UNSPDkfzPBdoLfzs8ruKPton_SxGvH8n-3WoPyPPT2oFayTL3j4Jcodatc6feDc3zC91S8AW2eoSU0Iq4NKbONJqcfzDvYQ/s1600/Picture+8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZ8pe5_BbEc6HIVpU-aaQv3kSkvJa-lwc2NcTo3TW0u19UNSPDkfzPBdoLfzs8ruKPton_SxGvH8n-3WoPyPPT2oFayTL3j4Jcodatc6feDc3zC91S8AW2eoSU0Iq4NKbONJqcfzDvYQ/s320/Picture+8.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">I had the best Christmas present ever in December 2016, when I met my mum in a cafe. This was our first meeting in 3 1/2 years!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It only remains for this piece of <span style="font-size: 11pt;">Danish Blue</span> to wish everyone, wherever we are, a very happy and <i>hygge New Year!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Henrietta Whitsun-Jones</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-75873035330660978112016-11-20T07:32:00.000-08:002016-11-20T07:32:07.521-08:00Letter from America<div class="MsoNormal">
Now
that a little time has elapsed, since the shocking events of the US
elections, it is perhaps time to reflect on those events. Consequently I feel
it is important to share the moving words below. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have been trying to
comfort a dear friend who has the misfortune to live in Florida! She is half
Cuban, is an MS comrade and shares my
liberal/socialist tendencies. The poor girl is beside herself with grief
at recent events. She and her (largely Hispanic) friends, are trying to
find solace wherever they can.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">She forwarded me the
email below, which is really rather beautiful. It certainly touched me
deeply, and reminds me that not everyone in America is busy polishing an AK-47
that is stashed it in the garage.<br />
<br />
--------------------------</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Who do I want to
be in this situation? </i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Dear Ones:<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Good
morning. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As
Beyonce once sang, "We woke up in the kitchen, saying 'How the hell did
this shit happen?'"</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Oh baby. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
I did not want this outcome. I did not expect
this outcome. I did not in any universe imagine that this outcome ever could
have occurred — and the fact that I did not imagine it as possible means that
clearly I have been out of touch with the hearts and minds of millions of my
fellow Americans. I cannot say that I understand them. I certainly don't agree
with them. And yet this is the world we wake up to today. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
OK. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Every single day, you must face whatever world
you have woken up to — whatever that may be. That's the only world you get. You
must start there. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Let me tell you what happened in our home last
night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
I settled in with Rayya, to watch the returns —
relaxed and certain that we were about to watch a historic and joyful moment:
The election of the first woman to the presidency of the United States of
America. Then it all started to slide. Then came the stress. Then came the
growing anxiety. Then the panic started. Then: FLORIDA. (Always Florida. What
are we gonna do with you, Florida?) Everyone I follow on Twitter was suddenly
hysterical. Text messages of horror started flying around across the world.
(Never have I seen so many "WTF's" fly across the screen of my
phone.) The global financial markets began to collapse. Foreign leaders started
losing their cool. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Around
11pm, I found myself in this state: Huddled on the couch in the fetal
position, clutching a pillow, eyes wide, speechless, paralyzed with fear. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
That's never good, right? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
I've been there before, and that is NEVER
good. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
At that moment, I closed my eyes and asked
myself to observe what was going on my physical body — my animal body. What I
felt was a sickened stomach, shaking hands, a clenched chest, shallow
breathing, a wild and uncontrolled mind, and an elevated heart rate. This is
exactly what happens to an animal when it is being hunted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
At that moment, I asked myself, "Is this a
helpful response, Liz?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Nope.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
If I believe that I am here to serve the world
(and I DO believe that I am here to serve the world), then how does it help
anyone if I am feeling and acting like a hunted animal? Answer: It doesn't
help. Feeling hunted and trapped doesn't serve me, and it doesn't serve anyone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
This is when Rayya and I made a decision to turn
off every single electrical device in the house and GET REAL. We stepped away
from the television, from the social media, from the phones. Because we knew
that RIGHT NOW, we needed to find calm. These are the moments when it's time to
find out who you really are — and who you can really be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
We lit a candle, sat with each other in quiet
prayer for a while, and then we each asked aloud the big question: "Who do
I want to be in this situation?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
This is a question that we ask in our house a
lot these days. This is a question Rayya has taught me over the years to always
ask myself, when shit goes down, or when the world goes crazy, or when the
panic starts to rise: "Who do I want to be in this situation?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
This is the question that Rayya and I asked of
ourselves six months ago, when the doctors found signs of tumors on Rayya's
pancreas and liver, and it didn't look good. I remember the day she went in for
her CT scan, to confirm just how bad the situation really was. We woke up that
day in a panic. We were both experiencing the standard human response to scary
situations. We were undone. We both felt like: "We are terrified and
anxious, and we will be terrified and anxious until we find out the results of
this CT scan. We will not be at peace until we know what's going on. And if the
results are horrible, we will totally fall apart."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
But then we stopped, checked ourselves, and we
asked, "REALLY?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Was that true? Was it true that we could not be
at peace RIGHT NOW — even if we didn't know the outcome, or even if the outcome
promised to be horrible?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
So we got really quiet that day, and we each
asked: "Who do I want to be in this situation?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
The answers came, same as ever:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Calm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Strong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Open-hearted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Curious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Generous.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Wise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Brave. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Humorous. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Patient. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Once we answered that question, we found our
peace. Because THAT PART was up to us — who we would decide to be, regardless
the outcome. And once we found our center again, we were able to walk into that
hospital with relaxed breathing, clear eyes, steady hands, and resolute hearts.
We were able to find peace BEFORE we even knew the results. And a few days
later, the results came: CANCER. Not just any cancer, but terminal cancer! But
by that time, we were were at peace. We were ready, because we knew who we
were. And once again, facing this difficult situation, the only question on the
table became, "Who do I want to be in this situation?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
That is the only question that EVER really
matters. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
I insist that we can learn — with practice — how
to choose our emotional state in all situations. This has to be true. If this
isn't true, then we are TRULY AND THOROUGHLY FUCKED — because our state of
being is literally the only thing in this world that we can control. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
This is not denial. This is not complacency.
This not me cheerfully saying, "Oh well! I'm sure everything will be
fine!" Sometimes things are not fine. Sometimes the diagnosis is terminal
cancer. Sometimes the dark forces win. Sometimes the outcome is dreadful. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
But all our practices in peace and grace and
equanimity and courage are for TIMES LIKE THESE — for times when you do not get
the outcome that you want. This is when it matters. When the shit goes down,
and the shit goes wrong, and when the shit gets real — that's when the shit
gets interesting. That's when the test comes: Who will you be now? Right now. Right
this moment. Because that's the only part that is up to you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
So last night, Rayya and I decided to go to
sleep without waiting up to find out who won the presidency. We decided to keep
the phones off, and the TV off. We decided to step away from the burning
vehicle of global panic. We decided that — when the world is trampling itself
in a stampede of fear and anger — we will not join the stampede. In the same
way that we decided six months ago to find peace in our hearts BEFORE we got
the biopsy results, we decided last night to find peace in our hearts BEFORE we
got the election results. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
We prayed and mediated and coached each other
through until our hearts and minds and bodies were at peace. Then we woke up to
THIS world, and the same question as ever: "Who do I want to be in this
situation?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Calm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Strong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Open-hearted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Curious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Generous.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Wise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Brave. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Humorous. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Patient. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Decide who you will be today, Dear Ones. RIght
now. DECIDE. You can do this. This is what all your training and practice has
led you to. Show the people around you what a calm and peaceful strong mind
looks like. (Trust me, they need it. They already know what a panicked mind
looks like; show them what a calm mind looks like.) Ask yourself again and
again who you want to be, and believe that you can be it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Nobody gets to take your emotional state away
from you, unless you give it to them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
This is how you lead. This is who you are. This
is how you BE. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
Here we go. <o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<span style="color: black;">ONWARD,<br />
LG<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-73083725264143718672016-10-16T07:02:00.001-07:002016-10-20T09:13:47.428-07:00I am a Shrew and Proud of It<div class="MsoNormal">
October
2016<br />
<br />
Shakespeare would have thought me a shrew. A what, you ask? A small, <br />
furry animal? No. Nowadays we would say a woman with 'attitude', a bit lippy,
mouthy, gobby (or, if feeling particularly uncharitable a bit of a 'gobshite').
The Wikipedia definition of a shrew says,"th<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">e
figure represents "insubordinate female behavior" in a marital system
of polarised gender roles </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">that is supposedly male dominated </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">in
a moral hierarchy</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">. " Clearly, the shrew and the
feminist are sisters. </span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In medieval England a woman could be prosecuted as a nag
or <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">scold and sentenced to public humiliation and torture by wearing
a 'scold's bridle', <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">an
iron muzzle in an iron framework that enclosed the head. A bridle-</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">bit (or curb-plate), about 2
inches long and 1 inch broad, projected into the mouth and quite literally,
'held one's tongue'. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQ27MVscUMuUizbskLhE9MYW1kRc4c7yi5LuzrxaHjk-HV8PgllUyJY12YPG-LfUrdOLxBqSqXYVIgzbI9MbMWigbT2OznB7eMxrXI46thDou1nE-XIOUP34y5OJlICGevt05ga1qsdw/s320/Scolds+Bridle.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 'scold's bridle'</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As a child I was not especially troublesome, but I was
fascinated by naughty girls. Favourite books were the My Naughty Little
Sister series. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-SkrX3-VwM83RdxyEOzvX48kZcO8b__3siLVlNiXT0dTkht3bIFNrm5jd8M3JcwVQ_PxedSeE0e6aVctyK73Jx87lDAfjRPtTZNdtYUBklahBQ2Tdxz0-QjHaPjFY3t1LPqIHHYb-ek/s1600/My+Little+Sister+Bookes+by+Dorothy+Edwards.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-SkrX3-VwM83RdxyEOzvX48kZcO8b__3siLVlNiXT0dTkht3bIFNrm5jd8M3JcwVQ_PxedSeE0e6aVctyK73Jx87lDAfjRPtTZNdtYUBklahBQ2Tdxz0-QjHaPjFY3t1LPqIHHYb-ek/s320/My+Little+Sister+Bookes+by+Dorothy+Edwards.gif" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My Naughty Little Sister book series by Dorothy Edwards</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #454545;"> A favourite movie was the black
and white 18th-century historical drama, The Wicked Lady which featured a
dashing aristocrat, played by Margaret Lockwood, with her secret identity as a
notorious highway woman.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WQkK2zDSj6I1CZZzkIoCqPp-8qz2zbiDd0vvKNDGwzVjnPFuU77LDibkXb2SDM462k3vlLV8sFZd1f8Z4Yu23mO7qSNsh0X_6zbG63II7FHloH1uX0ZRqnE7XgvWyUMrjcYMThwTOKI/s200/Margaeret+Lockwood+as+The+Canvas+in+The+Wicked+Lady.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="158" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Margaret Lockwood as the Countess</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">in The Wicked Lady </span> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VMBY4AWmrgepKyhdzQp_9NYrGP5IaJ4Ng1j0uM00FM2I3-sxwEMClsMg1YoIKeVd56B4PJw988Qo1JDG2mp7ihql2dJCmHCQB2hu9TX3xvVTH_XaGZFOxLECIhVd4HTxt02teZj7U9c/s1600/Margaret+Lockwood+in+her+Hair+Highwayman+Disguise.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VMBY4AWmrgepKyhdzQp_9NYrGP5IaJ4Ng1j0uM00FM2I3-sxwEMClsMg1YoIKeVd56B4PJw988Qo1JDG2mp7ihql2dJCmHCQB2hu9TX3xvVTH_XaGZFOxLECIhVd4HTxt02teZj7U9c/s200/Margaret+Lockwood+in+her+Hair+Highwayman+Disguise.gif" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Margaret Lockwood in her hair highway woman disguise</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My real life naughty little sister and I
were co-conspirators in most things. We had a secret club, the wigga-wigga
club. If one was in a naughty mood, making the secret sign to the other sister,
was a signal to get together in private as soon as possible, in order to hatch
some mischief. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This may or may not have involved the 'witch kitch', a
hidden and private area of the front yard, where low walls at a convenient
child's waist height facilitated the cooking up of all manner of disgusting
potions in stolen cooking pots. Dried up dog poos were collected from the
pavements and crushed up with poisonous holly berries and curry powder,
pilfered from the kitchen. Adding water then made a delightfully
poisonous and gloopy potion, which could then be flicked at the kids next
door, or spattered over the next door neighbours' windows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I remember being taken to see the 1967 version of The Taming of
the Shrew starring Richard Burton and a luminous Elizabeth Taylor. Most
of the action involves the highly entertaining misbehaviour of the fiery
Katherina, the shrew. However, the story ends with a downtrodden,
exhausted and compliant Katharina who has been 'tamed'. This little girl
felt thoroughly cheated, and wanted her money back.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtz6FjToDULohum4AEgjbra03kx8iK3u6xRPg-QI7hlAlCtmbgW1Ao0nTPFY5Q_Vcj5vRNUyE0Dvy-o2FtjRnuGumHlXBcK-b5QTDcShxNvV2PsIG9D0H1zTQogWAzLX7KuMOY_0lI8U/s1600/Elizabeth+Taylor+as+the+fiery+Katharina+in+The+Taming+of+the+Shrew.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtz6FjToDULohum4AEgjbra03kx8iK3u6xRPg-QI7hlAlCtmbgW1Ao0nTPFY5Q_Vcj5vRNUyE0Dvy-o2FtjRnuGumHlXBcK-b5QTDcShxNvV2PsIG9D0H1zTQogWAzLX7KuMOY_0lI8U/s320/Elizabeth+Taylor+as+the+fiery+Katharina+in+The+Taming+of+the+Shrew.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Elizabeth Taylor as the fiery Katharina in The Taming of the Shrew</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I think I was born a feminist. Only I didn't know it until,
after a stormy and rebellious adolescence (oh my poor mum!), I reached
Manchester University in 1982 where I became politicised. On finishing my
degree, I co-founded a 4 piece women's theatre company called Red Stockings,
touring agitprop feminist cabaret throughout the North West and then
nationally. Our administrative HQ was in a women's centre, the sumptuously
converted childhood home of Sylvia Pankhurst, the Pankhurst Centre. According
to the zeitgeist of the decade, I merrily campaigned and protested my way
through the '80s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545;">The role of women in society has changed immeasurably throughout
my life so far. A recent phenomenon has caught my interest – the bitch-slap.
One of the carers where I live I regard as the World Authority on this matter,
so I asked her, "What is the difference between a slap and a
bitch-slap?"."Oh a lot", she said. "Wid a bitch-slap dere's
a backswing. Dere's a lot more force. We're talkin' vi'lence!".
Fascinated, I probed a bit further, "And can you bitch-slap anyone,
man or woman? ". "Yes, but usually it's men, cos dey need keepin' in
line. De only peops ya don't bitch-slap is children". The bitch-slap is
not gratuitous violence or administered in the heat of the moment. Rather, it
is a considered punishment which has somehow been deserved. Moreover it is a
singularly female expression of displeasure. Strange to think that not so long
ago, just punishment was purely the domain of men and never women. A bitch-slap
would have been extremely unseemly and un-feminine. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Oh, how the tables have turned. The shrew has finally used
her sharp little teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Henrietta Whitsun-Jones</span></div>
<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-22877178929959986442016-09-20T13:36:00.002-07:002016-09-20T13:36:24.085-07:00Why Risk is Worth It<div class="MsoPlainText">
September 2016<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoPlainText">
I really enjoy taking risks. It's just part of the
blueprint I was born with. I am also a natural rebel. This means that I hate
rules of any kind. Show me a rule of any type and I will want to smash it up
and break it. On principle. As you can well imagine, this has gotten me into
trouble at various times throughout my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I guess part of the reason that I like risk is because I
am so familiar with it. I have spent my working life as an artist, in my case
as an actor. Step out onto a stage, and no matter how many times before one has
said those lines, almost anything can (and sometimes does) happen. As an actor,
one is taught to embrace and welcome risk. The moment actors stop taking risks,
is the moment that the performance becomes dull, listless and tired. So I
suppose it is that risk to me, is the spice of life: some level of it is
necessary in order to live a rich and colourful life. Think how boring and dull
life would be, without it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I think this is why I often have a problem with Health
and Safety (H&S which I call Hell and Samey) which seems to want to
eradicate risk from our lives altogether. You only have to say the words
'H&S' out loud to me, and I feel an instant rush of blood to my face and
neck. My hackles are on 'alert' mode.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
This seems to happen to me fairly often these days as I
live in a care home, which is by definition, a very risk-averse and highly
regulated environment. There is a
plethora of regulations and legislation that the home must comply with. That
need not, however, necessarily include me. I must remember that I live with
some people here who unfortunately cannot make decisions in their own best
interest any longer. It is these vulnerable people that the rules and
regulations are there to protect. Not me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
To give them their due, The management have always been
sensitive to the fact that I am an intelligent woman with full capacity, who is
strong-willed and has opinions of her own. Signing disclaimers, in order to
protect the company, has become a way of life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Around 5 years ago I jumped out of an aeroplane at 15,000
feet. This was in order to raise money for the Centre. It proved to be quite a
worthwhile stunt, as I managed to raise several thousand pounds. Would I do it
again? You betcha! I only wish I was able to jump out in my wheelchair. What a
great photo that would make! Not to
mention some great publicity for the Centre. Especially now that I am a
middle-aged woman in poor health and in a wheelchair: life has become far too sedate and 'safe'. It needs messing
up a bit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
There is usually a nugget of truth in an old
axiom."Nothing ventured, nothing gained", is an old saying that this
applies to. For if you make an attempt, you risk failure. However, if you do
not even try then you will never know the untold riches that you may have won. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I know which I would prefer.<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-9650185003835169792016-09-15T10:01:00.001-07:002016-09-20T13:36:50.637-07:00Warrior sisters<div class="MsoPlainText">
September 2016<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
My beloved little sister and I share something. We both
have MS. She has been living with the diagnosis since the tender age of 19,
whereas the bomb didn't drop on me until the age of 42.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
But there the similarity ends. My sister says that whilst
she got the skimmed milk variety, I ended up with the full fat version of the
disease. She has the relapsing-remitting
form: I have the more aggressive primary progressive type. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Between us we have 50 years of experience in managing our
MS symptoms and fatigue (34 years in her case, and 16 in mine). We have had to
learn the art of working within our limitations, whilst still achieving our
objectives and living a productive life.
The learning curve has not always been easy. Many a time, we have been on the brink of
doing something, only to be disappointed by a spell of illness at the last
minute. In my case, the symptoms are
constant, but slowly and steadily worsen over time. No sooner have I adapted to
certain capabilities, then the goal posts shift, and I have to start all over
again with a reduced set of circumstances. In my sister's case, the only
response that is effective during a period of illness, is complete bed rest.
Literally to stop everything and rest.
This is difficult for her as she has a young son to care for. Meals must
be cooked, clothes must be washed and a child taken to school. Life does not
stop because mummy is ill.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The area of parenting is the only one where I have
sometimes felt a sense of envy towards my sister, given our different
illnesses. Whereas she has been able to stay at home and parent her child as
she thinks fit, unfortunately I have not. I have had to leave my home and live
in a care home, and watch ruefully from the sidelines, as their father makes
repeated mistakes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
There are upsides though, to this situation. I get to
enjoy their company without having to police their lives as a parent normally
would.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Warrior women are my favourite kind of chick. I am extremely fortunate that both my sister
and my daughter are this kind of woman. Gutsy, feisty and not afraid to fight
for what she believes in, yet only punishing the guilty, never the innocent. It
would be difficult to put into words how much I love, admire and respect them
both.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I am very fortunate to have them in my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-38429635415862277432016-09-04T10:26:00.000-07:002016-09-15T10:05:25.918-07:00MS Cannot Kill My Creativity<div class="MsoPlainText">
It is true to say that I have not touched this blog in a
long time. This is in part because everything has become more challenging for
me as my MS progresses. However, MS cannot kill my creativity Yes, it makes it
more difficult for me to express it. But it is part of me. Somehow or other it
will be expressed by hook or by crook. Unfortunately and, sometimes it is hard
to use a mobile phone/tablet for writing. So the blog is likely to be less
frequent in future. Less frequent, but perhaps better.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
My creative juices have also been otherwise employed: I'll have written a Christmas panto-style entertainment for the nursing home where I
live. I am hoping that this will be performed at Christmas parties. I will
offer to direct, which would be enormous fun for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I have also been completely immersed in designing and
creating a garden. The nursing home allocated me my own patch of garden within
the communal grounds, and gave me permission to develop it as I wished. I used
grant money from the MS. Society to fund the plants and hard landscaping
materials. Labour was provided in-house
free of charge.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBwSQLKH2WMl9p4ko-LoZ69XAsbrcLY4w0ybSAsQU50EWCZpknhpXJENWD0H1SSD_9npt5L8JrJoPhy9v0ZXwsgJyx6Fnraja8uS_qXwTDdXgnTIHQ5WYaOnByUtozbVjazQfUP2t6Ng/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBwSQLKH2WMl9p4ko-LoZ69XAsbrcLY4w0ybSAsQU50EWCZpknhpXJENWD0H1SSD_9npt5L8JrJoPhy9v0ZXwsgJyx6Fnraja8uS_qXwTDdXgnTIHQ5WYaOnByUtozbVjazQfUP2t6Ng/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0001.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWo-oL49lf26BSwqjoipJLxZ9VYIcB_AILxjaaHnkKJLNsMCsloodKHOxhOBJTVHhFB2zem_DrSMbxIMQwg3AoebwDw-VLCcRtltj5wXHGCMDpjqT_BR4CXFRgOTsrpgCKOSvN-h_3UM/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWo-oL49lf26BSwqjoipJLxZ9VYIcB_AILxjaaHnkKJLNsMCsloodKHOxhOBJTVHhFB2zem_DrSMbxIMQwg3AoebwDw-VLCcRtltj5wXHGCMDpjqT_BR4CXFRgOTsrpgCKOSvN-h_3UM/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0002.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<br />
My intention was to create a Mediterranean gravel garden, suitable for a very dry and partially sunny plot. A maintenance free garden that would need no constant watering.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I also wanted
to create a shady patio beneath a wild plum tree: a refuge from the harsh
Summer sun, which my MS hates.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdjJoS3-OryYbq3XiVnHSjQsuIj1wvP-J775pQd53yApo11Rre5oSiJH-3lVZqvrfGeSTBFV89LX47NR3CBzd1kmYMZrmYRthbm3m0Up2fDiXekJ1Qu0iBbWtczEwy97jq-6I7kvA65k/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdjJoS3-OryYbq3XiVnHSjQsuIj1wvP-J775pQd53yApo11Rre5oSiJH-3lVZqvrfGeSTBFV89LX47NR3CBzd1kmYMZrmYRthbm3m0Up2fDiXekJ1Qu0iBbWtczEwy97jq-6I7kvA65k/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0005.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYhyphenhyphenNfrTXtZmpksWKnkq6VnskJ1uoGpX6Wlur1W08NIeXO5jxBSTzkmcAD5Q-ZVLvBmYFwmg17_o5ZdzHV22_53UQCXZPPeDn900RNMTHdwC3ueUXocAAptBmaG3TCGc-oLvxHf5qUkE/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYhyphenhyphenNfrTXtZmpksWKnkq6VnskJ1uoGpX6Wlur1W08NIeXO5jxBSTzkmcAD5Q-ZVLvBmYFwmg17_o5ZdzHV22_53UQCXZPPeDn900RNMTHdwC3ueUXocAAptBmaG3TCGc-oLvxHf5qUkE/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0003.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
The garden has been really fantastic and has made my summer. Best of all, it has been a great
social space in which to lunch and spend time with friends and family.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRubjKoYKrccx_vMaOqyNPJ2QSLFpD6jUdQLYf6SfiFNWKSf446Z3b4zpuPYbSmKwhyphenhyphenBEVAldY9nUvkZ3mTWLRHsOLQEjL8wxkFH97WvRN5_GlgAKXafkTsgxkrhTkCMRc24epvpdj9E/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRubjKoYKrccx_vMaOqyNPJ2QSLFpD6jUdQLYf6SfiFNWKSf446Z3b4zpuPYbSmKwhyphenhyphenBEVAldY9nUvkZ3mTWLRHsOLQEjL8wxkFH97WvRN5_GlgAKXafkTsgxkrhTkCMRc24epvpdj9E/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0006.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiBBdk0sK-ZTluuDOTmV8DcEM8bv5TRb4FvA2dqd7lFqnwuKAGFYvTHceorqXKQ_7U0VqbHVABhn8Y-_rrP1IyVJdpXTH-PLxmsF7ctlVzS1KeJOfYONNepVDjo8AP6Yf3p4Z7sXw6Bg/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiBBdk0sK-ZTluuDOTmV8DcEM8bv5TRb4FvA2dqd7lFqnwuKAGFYvTHceorqXKQ_7U0VqbHVABhn8Y-_rrP1IyVJdpXTH-PLxmsF7ctlVzS1KeJOfYONNepVDjo8AP6Yf3p4Z7sXw6Bg/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0007.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45QyzzQg_X8mD8wURcbY9uphgapRINqObmejB9ejrSFROFByHfZrWxqWr1Wfz8VC9w5zQvtLgMEDx4-Zh5VUe1CZ1YpKzlIHdxMbx61Z2T3m5VXOR6Eh8YUfFHG4wFV3la3YI8uvEhU4/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45QyzzQg_X8mD8wURcbY9uphgapRINqObmejB9ejrSFROFByHfZrWxqWr1Wfz8VC9w5zQvtLgMEDx4-Zh5VUe1CZ1YpKzlIHdxMbx61Z2T3m5VXOR6Eh8YUfFHG4wFV3la3YI8uvEhU4/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0009.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br />
<br />
One of the things I adore about gardens, is that they
never stand still and are always changing. Already I am hatching plans for
changes and improvements that I want to make next year. Gardens link past,
present and future, melded together by the beauty of nature. And they're great places to eat too!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKxm4Qavm2LJqFOgI-69F1N_EV5BPMbVp8IOweDQWzAKBFVATQRHK3ivMC5z8GGcqgVgAwCF-28jQH931MC17OcFfslLNBz3ZHSmmoNwdo_TgoReaNMkFy73AGwXqzI3Q-9N7UhDx_u4/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKxm4Qavm2LJqFOgI-69F1N_EV5BPMbVp8IOweDQWzAKBFVATQRHK3ivMC5z8GGcqgVgAwCF-28jQH931MC17OcFfslLNBz3ZHSmmoNwdo_TgoReaNMkFy73AGwXqzI3Q-9N7UhDx_u4/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0011.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmCCLq19UwQT2z8wTXyD5faSj0db6qxDkXf_v9gQIhX-BILj-_iLh3mI_X2NMNMqIXYf75oWj3zy3USQ4nWdvjNocDziKZsYOnEJwFoWTRjgZsEZJ-Dpk-8eaSy6wdW6cA5H7v66d1uU/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0012.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmCCLq19UwQT2z8wTXyD5faSj0db6qxDkXf_v9gQIhX-BILj-_iLh3mI_X2NMNMqIXYf75oWj3zy3USQ4nWdvjNocDziKZsYOnEJwFoWTRjgZsEZJ-Dpk-8eaSy6wdW6cA5H7v66d1uU/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0012.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHVVzZzEMHMZYrtQ6O0Di_OBVXUMDa6qEPRTeo7vieIS85H50qVuI8HWi7swU957_5enj33Fa0U9bmu7CeKkGgL6k4gmuwdbpy4dAA0CKMAN5Ays-HIqjvW3NJFHE2012gk1ww_FlTs4/s1600/IMG-20160904-WA0010.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHVVzZzEMHMZYrtQ6O0Di_OBVXUMDa6qEPRTeo7vieIS85H50qVuI8HWi7swU957_5enj33Fa0U9bmu7CeKkGgL6k4gmuwdbpy4dAA0CKMAN5Ays-HIqjvW3NJFHE2012gk1ww_FlTs4/s200/IMG-20160904-WA0010.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br />
<br />
<br />
Henrietta
Whitsun-Jones<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-67004378871694436672015-10-05T08:30:00.002-07:002015-10-05T08:30:20.127-07:00MY MINDFULNESS JOURNEY CONTINUES <br /><div class="MsoPlainText">
Mindfulness has been my constant companion over the past
2 years. It has been both a rock to
cling to in a storm, and a place to bask in the sun when the weather is kind.</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I meditate most mornings, with only the sound of birdsong
as a soundtrack. I find it sets me up for the day ahead, rather like a strong
cup of coffee. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I freely admit that I have lost my way at times. Fortunately for me, our own Trustee and
Mindfulness coach, Sarah Jones, has been on the end of a phone, ready to give
me a Mindfulness coaching session and set me back on the right track again. In
the real world, this kind of one-to-one coaching would cost hundreds of pounds.
We are very fortunate at the Centre to have Sarah as a Mindfulness resource (I
know she wouldn't mind me calling her a 'resource'). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
At times, this journey has been a somewhat lonesome road.
Looking back, I think I would have preferred to take the trip with a group if
that were possible I am told that the
energy one experiences in a Mindful ness group is very different to being by
oneself, and is very nurturing. Looking for a group will definitely be my next
step. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I cannot now imagine life without Mindfulness. It is now
a sustaining force in my life, the glue that binds all the different parts of
my life together. I would encourage anyone to embark on a Mindfulness adventure
for themselves, for it is truly the adventure of a lifetime. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
October 2016<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-9919443502754926772015-09-22T09:11:00.001-07:002015-09-22T09:11:15.401-07:00HOW I FIRST DISCOVERED MINDFULNESS <br /><div class="MsoNormal">
I first posted this nearly <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">2
years ago on January 14th 2014 as WITH NEW YEAR IN MIND (hence the
Christmas theme). I want to republish i</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">it as Mindfulness courses are</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> still ongoing at the
Centre, thanks to Trustee, Sarah Jones. I then intend to publish an update on
my Mindfulness journey. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But first, let us go back in
time. Moreover, I believe this </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">is as true today as the day I
first wrote it ..</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
January
2014<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="apple-style-span">So it's all finished with for another 12
months. My sister texted me the following day to say "thank f-- for
that! It's all over for another year".</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="apple-style-span">Whether you are sad or delighted depends on several
things, such as what sort of relationship to and history you have with
Christmas; this seems to relate mostly to what your childhood memories of it
are like. Those people who had great childhood Christmases tend to carry this
on into adulthood. The reverse is also true. This then gets passed down
to their children etc, etc and so the cycle continues</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">At this juncture (after Christmas and around New
Year) I typically find myself doing two things: reviewing how the Christmas
just gone went, and looking forward into the new year and sketchily planning
out a few things I want to achieve during the first few months of the year.
So I look back and then look forward, at the same time. I am quite sure
that I am not alone in doing this.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">This Christmas just gone was the best one I have
had in years. This, despite it being almost a year</span> <span class="apple-style-span">exactly that I have been living away from home in a
nursing home. The prospect of Christmas was looming large and making me
quite tearful and full of dread. I was gearing myself up for a disastrous
first Christmas here. A travesty of the warm and homey Christmases I had now
lost forever. I had constructed the complete, disastrous scenario that was to
take place.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Then I thought no! Hang on a minute. This
could, if I let it, be the best Christmas in ages because we are all
free. Free of all the limitations of looking after a sick person that
being here, in a nursing home, has taken away because it is someone else's
responsibility. For the first time in ages we could concentrate on enjoying
being together and having fun.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">And guess what, we did. It really was the
best Christmas we have had in a long time</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">But how was I able to achieve this quantum shift
in perspective? The answer is very simple: through something called
Mindfulness that I have been introduced to through the Centre.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">What is Mindfulness then? It is a toolkit of
techniques that you can learn, including daily meditation, which together train
your brain into a new way of thinking that is far more positive. It is a
technique that has been honed over many years into an eight week course and is
delivered through a book and CD which are used in conjunction. The book
explains the theory and the CD delivers the daily meditation practice which you
are guided through. It really was as simple as that [for me] but as
with all things it is the simplest things that are the hardest. And so
yes, I found it very difficult at first. I found it hard to
concentrate and that my mind kept wandering. Perseverance is necessary but
improvement and therefore encouragement come quickly. It can also be very
helpful at times like this to have someone else to be in touch with in order to
compare notes and offer mutual support.</span><br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My
personal experience has taught me that what you really need in order to take up
Mindfulness most successfully is a willingness to change and an openness of
heart and mind. You need wholeheartedly to commit yourself to those 10
minutes a day and ideally to finishing the eight week course. If you can do
that then the changes just seem to flow by themselves and to happen almost
effortlessly</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I see no point in going into great detail about
the process. Firstly because this will be different for everyone so your
experience may be quite different to mine, and secondly because this is done so
much better by Mark Williams, the author of the book 'Mindfulness: A practical
guide to finding peace in a frantic world'.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I initially took up Mindfulness as I felt I needed
some support over Christmas in order to get me through a particularly difficult
and emotionally draining time. To make matters worse a doctor had
temporarily removed my antidepressants with disastrous results and at the very
worst time of the year for me. I found myself ricocheting almost
uncontrollably between states of red hot anger and sad weeping.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I had heard that meditation had the ability to
raise the levels of serotonin in the brain, much as antidepressants do.
So originally I was looking for a replacement for missing antidepressants
to get me through Christmas. I didn't realise what a life-changing thing I had
stumbled across. Mindfulness has already delivered this and much more
besides and I am still only early on in the process (at week four of eight)</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I have found that general benefits include:
improved creativity and improved concentration and focus (less likely to be
distracted), better time management and much better relationships. Oh and food
tastes great! As if I never tasted it before</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">MS-related benefits include less fatigue and
better fatigue management, improved memory and improved sitting posture.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I have learned a lot about myself; what a control
freak I am and how difficult this can be for a wheelchair user with MS who
cannot control her physical environment very easily and how this can lead to
very negative frustration. I have found out what enormous benefit there
is to be able to let go of control when I choose to. This is a crucial point
about Mindfulness; it does not change your personality, merely allows you to be
aware of the choices you are making and helps you to make better ones.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I definitely intend to continue with the
Mindfulness course and want to take these learnings forward into the new
year. If you are interested and decide to give it a go, then the good
news is that you can join a class and learn in a Group at the Centre which has
the advantage of giving you the support of a group of people who are
experiencing similar issues to you. Teacher/facilitator Sarah Jones will
be running classes in the new year so keep an eye on Centre noticeboards or
leave a message at Centre reception. If you have any questions Sarah would be
delighted to talk to you shecan be reached on </span><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">sarahjones.874@btinternet.com</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="apple-style-span">or call
07973 <span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">156331</span>. There is no charge for members except
the customary donation</span><br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Mindfulness has been proven to be of enormous
benefit to people with long-term illnesses. You may not be able to cure
the MS but you can certainly change your attitude to life and improve the
quality of it. I would highly recommend giving Mindfulness a try.
After all you have absolutely nothing to lose and potentially everything
to gain. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">January 2014/September 2015</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Henrietta Whitsun-Jones<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-2057239619348092972015-07-14T02:03:00.000-07:002015-07-14T02:04:09.418-07:00Blog Summer Break<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The blog is on a summer break
for July and August. We hope to be back in September weather
permitting.</span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<!--[endif]--><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">These are the hottest months of
the year and therefore the most challenging for people with MS including myself.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">July 2015</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-60019438567828170482015-06-04T13:37:00.001-07:002015-06-04T13:37:14.212-07:00'THANK YOU', MS SOCIETY<div class="MsoPlainText">
In awarding me a grant, the MS Society has given me far
more than pounds shillings and pence. I have been given a sense of support, a
feeling that someone out there cares and some memories of time spent with my
children that are truly priceless.</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
This is a heartfelt thank you to the MS Society. It is
also the story of my award, and how it unfolded over an extended period of
time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
In 2014 I applied for a short break grant, so that I
could go on a short holiday with my kids. In the spring I received a phone call
to say that my application had been successful. That phone call was probably
the best and most uplifting news that I received all year. I felt so happy and excited about the
forthcoming trip. Since leaving my home to live in care on meagre disability
benefits, I had never dreamt that I would have the means to go on holiday with
them ever again. The MS Society proved me wrong. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Sadly, due to my failing health, it became apparent over
the next 12 months, that I would be unable to attempt such a trip.
Unfortunately, the holiday became a mountain too large and daunting for me to climb.
Reluctantly, I had to let it go. You can imagine the disappointment. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
However, thanks to the MS Society all was not lost.
Always helpful and flexible, the Society agreed to offer me my original award
in order to support 3 smaller projects instead.
The first of these, was a series of days out with my beloved children
during their Easter school holidays.
These were a huge success, more within my capabilities than a trip away
and just as much fun. Days out varied from a simple shopping trip with
lunchtime pizza, to a more ambitious Owl Flying Experience at a birds of prey
centre or indoor skydiving followed by tacos for lunch. In a restaurant one day
my 13 year old son turned to me and said, "You know, mum, we don't get to
go out for lunch very often. But when we do, it's like Christmas!" I felt just the same. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I have now received the second and third instalments of
my grant. However, I still have the
projects themselves to look forward to. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The first is a garden project. Due to my MS, I am unable
to tolerate direct sunlight for more than a few minutes. Creating a shady
patio, will give me somewhere to sit in my wheelchair where I can be
comfortable and cool, whilst still enjoying the outdoors. The work is scheduled for the autumn, and
will complete in the new year. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The final instalment of my award has created a travel
fund, giving me the independence to get a wheelchair taxi where I want and when
I want. I am already enjoying having much greater freedom. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Although losing my original short break was a great
disappointment, with hindsight I can safely say that things have worked out
better in the end. Thanks to the MS Society, the projects above will have
improved the quality of life for myself and my children more than a single
holiday could. Furthermore, I have been
able to extend the warm feeling of support from the Society over an extended
period, since the grant was originally awarded in 2014. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The feeling that someone out there cares has meant more
to me emotionally, than I can say. As I happen to have a very aggressive form
of MS and sometimes feel that I am fighting a losing battle, this chink of
light from the MS Society, has lit up some very dark times indeed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
June 2015<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-18615861571654126802015-05-27T09:21:00.000-07:002016-10-21T11:24:34.533-07:00IT'S GOOD TO TALK <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
For me, life has always been
about communication with other people. Usually verbal. It has always been 'my
thing'. Whether I was an actor, or a communications' consultant, or just
me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br />
Unfortunately, speech is an area that suffers for many people with MS. As
I happen to have the most aggressive kind of the disease, lately the struggle
has become more intense as my speech fades.<br />
<br />
However, help exists! The marvellous physios at the Chilterns MS Centre
have come to the rescue once again. Thanks to them I am currently 3 weeks into
a 6 week trial of the marvellous Cough Assist machine which has been working
wonders. (See earlier blog post HENNY CALLING). I have been using the
machine three times a day.<br />
<br />
The feedback from carers, nurses, Physios, friends, family: everyone who comes
into contact with me, has been overwhelmingly positive. They all comment that
my speech is much louder and clearer than before. My self confidence is riding
high. Furthermore this experience has really taught me just how vital verbal
communication skills can be.<br />
<br />
When I have a voice relationships with other people are much easier. I can tell
jokes, so exchanges become infused with laughter. I can express my sense of
humour.<br />
<br />
When I have a voice I can explain to carers or whoever, exactly what I need or
want: there is no telepathy required.<br />
<br />
When I have a voice I can use humour and tact to assert myself: I can protect
my rights with diplomacy. I can express views, political opinions and
thoughts.<br />
<br />
When I have a voice I can express myself using voice recognition (now quite
sophisticated). I can no longer type with my fingers so I can write this blog,
or emails. Or make phone calls. Yes, I can even Tweet! <br />
<br />
Suddenly I am social and connected: I can participate and get involved. (I even
managed to help deliver a media training session recently at the Centre -
addressing a group and talking through a presentation. Fancy that!)<br />
<br />
When I have a voice I notice that my personality is different. I am much more
outgoing, and less likely to feel 'locked in' or isolated. I can take the
initiative and be active, not passive.<br />
<br />
So why does this magic machine work? (Here is my very non-scientific
explanation, based on my personal experience). As a former actor who sang a
lot, I am aware that voice production relies on getting a good air flow over the
voice box: the breath is vital. Unfortunately MS has compromised my lung
function: the Cough Assist machine seems to help counteract this. I can get
more air into my lungs and so my speech has more power.<br />
<br />
I have been enjoying this part of the trial so much, and having my speech back.
The next step is to do without the Cough Assist machine entirely for a
fortnight, in order to measure the extent to which I can maintain the benefits.
So watch this space .. <br />
<br />
But whatever the trial result, I can feed back with certainty that the Cough
Assist machine really seems to improve speech for me. Here's hoping that this
is a story that I can continue to tell ...<br />
<br />
<br />
(<i>For more information about the nippy Clearway Cough Assist
consult your physiotherapist or visit <a href="http://www.nippyventilator.com/">www.nippyventilator.com</a>)</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
May 2015<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-49486077698318123602015-05-14T09:08:00.002-07:002015-05-14T09:08:29.186-07:00FULL HOUSE!<div class="MsoPlainText">
Sometimes everything just clicks, and falls into
place. Like now. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Almost like the air shimmering when a ghost has just
walked by. Something has changed.
What? A barely audible 'thunk',
while the clock hands reach twelve or a key turns in a lock. Or perhaps you
feel the earth rumble briefly under your feet: one tiny degree in the earth's
orbit. Or was it just a 'tube' train on
the London Underground going past?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
What has happened?
I have been through a long winter of waiting, waiting, waiting. (Patience is not something that comes easily
to me). So it has been icy cold and hard, hard, hard. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
But now that there is blossom outside my window again,
everything has started to bloom all at once: several different projects have
come together simultaneously. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I have decided to blog about these separately. So, if you are interested to find out more, then read on...</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
This week's project has been in the diary for a long
time: Media Training with a group of the Leadership Team at the Centre:
Occupational Therapy and Business Development were represented, along with our
CEO, Robert Breakwell. (Session 2 will train a different group in 2 weeks'
time). The aim of the training was to help make the team more effective in
representing the Centre to the media and the press (something they are
increasingly getting an opportunity to do these days). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
This is mainly thanks to the tremendous job that is being
done by my co-trainer, Catherine Golds. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Catherine is a Centre Trustee, volunteer PR manager,
general good-egg and fellow customer of M&S (my beloved sister - yes you
guessed it, she also has the condition – and I, have jokily referred to MS as
Marks and Spencer's, for years). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The session went extremely well, as feedback confirmed. I
really enjoyed working with Catherine: I think we made a good duo. And as you
would expect, the Leadership Team came across fabulously well: passionate,
professional, warm and real. A precious
and rare concoction that the media will feast on. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Me, I was a little apprehensive beforehand. After all, it
is about 8 years since I last media trained anyone. (For me, M&S has
changed and developed a great deal in that time). In my darker moments, I feel
a bit 'broken': a busted-up thing, forgotten and gathering dust in a corner
somewhere. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
But I needn't have worried because I was amongst friends.
People who can see through the M&S to the person underneath; allowing them
to do their best and still make a contribution. I felt useful. And it made me
feel really happy. Happy to be able to
be of service to the Centre that over the years has given me so much. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
That day, my huge debt of gratitude became just a tiny
bit smaller. Thank you yet again,
Centre, for giving me that opportunity. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<o:p> </o:p> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
May 2015<o:p></o:p></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-47910838515656380202015-02-15T04:27:00.002-08:002015-02-15T04:27:45.649-08:00Happy Anniversary!<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2015
will be a big year for a anniversaries. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The wonderful annual art exhibition is almost upon us, and this year it
celebrates its glorious 10 year anniversary. From humble beginnings it
has grown and developed from year to year and has now blossomed into the
wonderful celebration of creativity that it is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As
well as much needed funds it generates an enormous amount of goodwill towards
the Centre. Each year I look forward to attending with family and friends,
glowing with pride. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
realised, with somewhat of a shock, that 2015 also marks my 10th
anniversary of membership of the Centre. It would be hard to be put into words
just what the Centre has meant to me over that period of my membership. But I
am going to try. To summarise the Centre is somewhere I feel both warmly
welcomed and accepted for who I am, that is, Henny who has MS. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here,
it's okay to be me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2015
also sees the Centre's 30 year anniversary, truly a cause for celebration and a
good reason to bring out the bunting. What on earth did local people with
MS do before that? It hardly bears thinking about. You will have
noticed the special 30th anniversary logo that is about. Look out for
other opportunities to celebrate later on this year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I
may not be any wiser but I am certainly another year older. I suppose I
will have to settle for that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">February
2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-32394948102661854472014-11-06T09:31:00.002-08:002014-12-10T04:32:07.915-08:00SING FOR THE CENTRE <div class="MsoNormal">
As
the outside temperature drops, I have been keeping myself warm with a fantasy.
The fantasy goes like this. <br />
<br />
Every time I come to the Centre I am struck by how it is full of such lovely
people. In the daydream all these lovely people come together in a choir and
raise the roof with song. <br />
<br />
Singing is about the happiest activity I know. It is impossible to feel sad
whilst you are singing. So a Centre choir would not only be tremendous
fun and very rewarding for all participants, but it could also be a
fundraiser for the Centre. It transpires that our own Robert Breakwell is not only
a phenomenal musician, but an experienced and prize-winning choirmaster as
well. We are therefore fortunate to have the perfect person in our midst
to lead us. <br />
<br />
Remember that to sing in a choir you do not need to be a particularly good
singer. The beauty of singing in a group is that no one voice stands out. All
you do need is bags of enthusiasm. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
If you would be interested in joining a choir at the Centre, then simply drop
Robert a quick email (<a href="mailto:robertbreakwell@chilternsmscentre.org">robertbreakwell@chilternsmscentre.org</a>)
so that he can gauge the level of interest. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robert
has indicated to me that he would probably start choir rehearsals after
Christmas. What a way to kick start 2015 - by joining our voices
together in celebrating our wonderful Centre. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
November
2014<br />
<br />
Henrietta Whitsun-Jones<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
</div>
Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859410155127350627.post-32374517709936722014-10-12T07:34:00.004-07:002014-12-10T04:42:00.409-08:00HENNY CALLING<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The Centre has given me my speaking voice back Quite literally.</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
I had noticed that my breathing was becoming very
shallow. Consequently my voice production was affected and I was speaking
quieter and quieter "Pardon?"
was becoming a horribly familiar phrase to me. </div>
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<div class="MsoPlainText">
I became quite disheartened and depressed at the quite
probable prospect of eventually losing my voice altogether and losing the
ability to communicate completely. Communication has always been at the heart
of my personality, whether working as an actor or in public relations or just
in life in general. The prospect of being completely mute and unable to
converse with my friends and family was a rather frightening vision of the
future. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
Then I found out that the Centre had been loaned a new
machine called a 'Cough Assist' designed to help with breathing. It sounded like just what I needed so I decided to give
it a go. After all, I had nothing to lose.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The machine works by pushing air into your lungs thereby
making them inflate. A face mask is
connected to a small tabletop machine by a hose; the intensity of the air
coming in and the timings between each breath are all carefully controlled by
the operator. The machine also encourages expectoration through coughing
thereby helping a person to clear the lungs of any catarrh build-up. </div>
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<div class="MsoPlainText">
I used the machine once a week; during my treatment session. After only two
uses I felt I was seeing some real improvement. What's more, I found that the benefit was lasting well
into the week. But what really pleased me was the the fact that I felt able to
do some basic singing exercises once again. I used to do a lot of singing, but
MS had effectively put a stop to all that. There is no way that I had enough
breath for that. Consequently that these exercises seemed to help me to attempt a little singing again (albeit very croaky at first) was truly magical. It is impossible to feel sad when singing. It is therefore
the most uplifting and joyful activity I can think of. To be able to do that
again meant a lot to me.<br />
<br />
The next step is for the Centre to look into the possibility of loaning me a machine so that I could use it more often. Should that prove beneficial then we may look for any available funding. I would certainly be interested in owning a machine of my own.</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br />
So it seems that singing and speaking are inextricably linked. Doing some simple singing exercises seems to help me to speak better: this is where the Cough Assist machine seems to really help - to get more air into my lungs.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
It is still early days but to say that I am encouraged is
a massive understatement. Once again the Centre has come to my rescue. The debt
of gratitude that I owe the Centre by now must be bigger than the national
deficit. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
The gift of helping me to retain my speaking voice is an utterly priceless one</div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
October 2014</div>
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Hennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06069367066865700573noreply@blogger.com0