Archive for March, 2007

Just like local TV in Norway!

“Ine! INE! You’ve gotta see this! NOW!”” … “
“The accordion-player is the best bit! He’s a STAR.”

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Missing Them

The worst thing about living in another country to my family is that I hardly ever see them. The best thing about e-mail and Skype is that I have better contact with them than when I lived at home.

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Look, he’s walking!

I could have written this post a week ago as he was walking then, but I’ve been a little bogged down with ‘stuff’. You know, the kind of ‘stuff’ that gangs up on you and makes you run out of time at the most inconvenient moments. And, in case you wondered, ‘he’ is not a 1-year-old; it’s Kevin. And the reason for my glee is that the week before, he was not walking. He was, at best, hobbling, but mostly just lying there, on the sofa in the living room while moaning painfully.

After 10 days knocked out on painkillers administered by the undersigned he finally started moving again. Then he started joking, then the sarcasms started up and I knew the worst was over. When Kevin is sarcastic you know he is well. Or at least something similar.

Painkillers. I had to go into hospital for emergency surgery in 2003. That was an obscenely hot summer and I was sent to the nearest hospital which was Whipps Cross University Hospital. There they tried to kill me. It was all dreadfully unpleasant and the only enjoyable part was when the anaesthetist put me under – wow! that was amazing! and so quick… and everything just disappeared and then I woke up after less than a second back on the ward and the pain was gone and I was in love with the anaesthetist, which I made sure to tell him when he came to check on me after the operation.

That aside; in the UK they like to prescribe painkillers, so I was sent home with a carrier bag of them called Kapake, which I believe is a paracetamol/kodein product. I never even took one. The slight post-op discomfort was nothing compared with the pre-op PAIN, so all I wanted when I got out of that hellish prison was a very large and very cold G&T.

Actually, the first thing I did after I got back from the hospital was to call for an ambulance. Somebody managed to crash right outside our house within minutes of my arrival home. Whipps Cross Road: I don’t miss you one bit!

Anyway; those were the painkillers I fed Kevin once I gave up on the doctors here. Slightly past their sell-by date, but I’m glad I didn’t take them to a pharmacy to get rid of them, and I’m glad they did the trick. He needed to sleep, and he did.

My time as DSM is over. It’s very sad. I still dream about it. Being thrown in at the deep end was not easy, but I learned a lot very fast and – on the last day the cast had bought me flowers! I burst into tears in front of them all… Kevin was deeply envious; he’d bought me flowers too (so, yes, he was indeed walking by then) but thought his were little compared with the elaborate bouquet of lilies, roses and, eh… not sure what the last ones are called, that I came home with that day. I love all of them! And lilies are incredibly sensuous when they open up.

We’re going to the ‘gala night’ on Wednesday. That’s the official opening night as I have understood it, and Kevin has to wear a tie. I don’t seem to be able to make him keep the beard – or ‘bird’ as my dad calls it – he’s grown over the past weeks till then. I love it when he grows that beard. He looks just sooooo cool with it! But he insists on letting his own comfort go before my wishes. Very selfish, if you ask me.

Finally got the birthday present off to my godson in Norway. Only nearly a month late. Well, stuff got in the way you know. He’s two years old. Do two-year-olds have a concept of time as anything more than something which moves way too slowly when you’re waiting for something? Just thought I’d check. I don’t have kids. As my sister delights in telling me after she’s spent a considerable amount of time complaining about this or that regarding child-rearing; ‘Well, you wouldn’t know anything, not having any of your own.’ Fine. If you don’t want my opinion – don’t bloody complain to me!! Glad I got that off my chest.

Gimme dogs any day. At least they sit when you tell them to.

Tulips from Kevin. I love tulips. I guess I’m like my mum that way. She has brilliant taste.

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In Sickness and in Health…

What a day/night/last night. Woke up at 5am to a husband who was crying with pain. We both felt so terribly helpless. At 8 we had to call The English Theatre and let them know Kevin could not make it in, that I would go in his stead and cover at least the morning as DSM (Deputy Stage Manager).

With about 4 hours of sleep to hold me up I staggered off to the rehearsal room to get things ready for the cast. Yeah… getting what ready exactly? I can honestly say I had no idea what I was doing. I unlocked the place and was there, and that was all I was able to do at that stage.

You would have thought that lectern is where the director would be sitting, but the company manager built it for Kevin who was unable to get up from a normal height chair. So now I’m the one perched there, which is just as well as I’m somewhat vertically challenged with my 1.5m.

At lunchtime I rushed home to see if Kevin needed anything. We talked to the ET and it was agreed that I had to take over the job completely, not just for a few hours today with no knowing when Kevin would next be able to move. He needs to get some serious rest and not worry about things all the time. It’s just that we are worriers, by nature.

Back to rehearsal, informed the cast of the state of affairs, they were very gratious – as was the director – though I had to leave early to teach a class at 4, though I’ve by now informed Berlitz that I’m unavailable until the show opens. They were good too. They’re all good, all the people I’ve let down. I hope Kevin gets better soon. It’s been so long, and I just hate to see him in such pain.

Not quite how I had envisaged my return to the theatre… had great plans to return as a top stage photographer. Did a shoot at the weekend for the Vienna Theatre Project, which is another English speaking theatre company, and the shots are really good, if I may say so myself. Can’t post any here yet as no decision has been made for what shot they want to use for the poster.

I’m exhausted.

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Life through the bottom of a glass

Here’s my mother seen through the bottom of a glass.
It’s really the best way to see the world. Not necessarily the best way to see my mum, but definitely the best way to see the world.

Apropos of nothing.

Kevin is still not well. It’s taking its toll on him, of course, spending so long hardly being able to walk. But I find it hard going too. And I feel selfish for saying it. I’m not the one doubled over with pain. But watching him, day after day, unable to straighten out, hobbling along like a much older man, painfully getting off the sofa, which apparently is a much better place to sleep than our mattress… it hurts. I hurt for him, I wish I could make the pain go away, I wish I could do something real for him, but I’m completely helpless, as is he.

I miss him. I find it hard to sleep without him next to me, and when I do sleep it’s in fits and starts, harrowed by tiring and upsetting dreams. What if it’s more serious than a mere ‘sore back’? I keep telling myself that it takes time to heal, that I must be patient. When my own spine sort of collapsed on me at the age of 19 (scoliosis), I was flat out for 3 months, unable to get up/down/sideways or any other way without help. The scoliosis will never go away, but I have learned to deal with it and not be overly sentimental about my limitations.

Kevin has only had 1 month of pain so far – but living with a man who hobbles so painfully around, who is so obviously unhappy, is taking its toll also on me.

And I miss him. I miss him joking and laughing and hugging me tightly. How much longer is it going to take before I get my man back? And the helplessness – that there is nothing I can do for him – that really hurts.
Soon it’s my godson’s second birthday. I’ve got him the coolest present ever and will be sending it on Monday – I hope it gets there on time. Sadly, his mum and I have fallen out. I won’t go into detail. It would have been nice to stay in touch with his dad – I was the one who introduced them so they are – eh, were – friends of mine separately, but there’s this thing about couplehood and loyalty and all that. When you grow up your relationship should go before everything else, at least if it’s a relationship that’s good.

But I will not forget that I am a godmother. I take that very seriously. That has nothing to do with the disagreement between his mum and me.

Enough self-pity for one night. Time to look at the world through the bottom of another glass.

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