23 November 2010

I was going to write this on another site that I blog on from time to time and entitle it “Random acts of kindness”, but I decided to write it hear instead, mainly because there is a new twist to it that is more relevant here.

I have written several times about the kindness I have experienced from random people who don't know me and will more than likely never meet me again. I had another such experience a few days ago that struck me for no reason other than on the other site there had been extensive discussion of the hajib (the headscarf worn by some Muslim women). There was much antipathy towards it partly, I suspect, based on ignorance (mistaking it for the veil, for example).

Anyway, that's not the point. I was getting off the train, or rather readying myself to do that, when a young Muslim woman with her husband (I assume) behind her and a small child whom she was holding by the hand. And she smiled and gestured to me to go first. I declined, politely, mentioning that it would take me much longer to disembark than it would for them. They smiled, and went on their way. I was musing over this random act of kindness as I walked along the platform, so much so that I wasn't concentrating properly an very nearly fell over – but that's not relevant.

The antithesis of this event happened last night. For some reason some of the ticket barriers at the station had been closed, and as a result all passengers had to take the same route as I. It is frequently difficult for me to follow the same route as hordes of commuters. I'm not quite sure why because for the most part they kindly move around me, although I think it may be the movement of so many people that takes my attention from the job in hand, but I manage. On this occasion though, there were more people in more of a hurry. One particular individual, to whom I could refer in none-too-flattering terms, but won't (in writing at least) cut across behind me, kicking my stick from under me. Fortunately, the crowd meant that I was moving even more slowly than usual, and I didn't lose my balance. “Cheers” I called after him, but it was wasted, as he disappeared up the escalator, oblivious to having caused me any problem and, I suspect, not caring.

So there are two contrasting examples on humanity. The one whom some consider to be dressed in an 'odd' way, and the other who didn't give a toss for anyone's needs but his own. And I know which one earned my deepest respect.

23 November 2010

I was going to write this on another site that I blog on from time to time and entitle it “Random acts of kindness”, but I decided to write it here instead, mainly because there is a new twist to it that is more relevant here.

I have written several times about the kindness I have experienced from random people who don't know me and will more than likely never meet me again. I had another such experience a few days ago that struck me for no reason other than on the other site there had been extensive discussion of the hajib (the headscarf worn by some Muslim women). There was much antipathy towards it partly, I suspect, based on ignorance (mistaking it for the veil, for example).

Anyway, that's not the point. I was getting off the train, or rather readying myself to do that, when a young Muslim woman with her husband (I assume) behind her and a small child whom she was holding by the hand. And she smiled and gestured to me to go first. I declined, politely, mentioning that it would take me much longer to disembark than it would for them. They smiled, and went on their way. I was musing over this random act of kindness as I walked along the platform, so much so that I wasn't concentrating properly an very nearly fell over – but that's not relevant.

The antithesis of this event happened last night. For some reason some of the ticket barriers at the station had been closed, and as a result all passengers had to take the same route as I. It is frequently difficult for me to follow the same route as hordes of commuters. I'm not quite sure why because for the most part they kindly move around me, although I think it may be the movement of so many people that takes my attention from the job in hand, but I manage. On this occasion though, there were more people in more of a hurry. One particular individual, to whom I could refer in none-too-flattering terms, but won't (in writing at least) cut across behind me, kicking my stick from under me. Fortunately, the crowd meant that I was moving even more slowly than usual, and I didn't lose my balance. “Cheers” I called after him, but it was wasted, as he disappeared up the escalator, oblivious to having caused me any problem and, I suspect, not caring.

So there are two contrasting examples on humanity. The one whom some consider to be dressed in an 'odd' way, and the other who didn't give a toss for anyone's needs but his own. And I know which one earned my deepest respect.

19 November

As Dickens wrote, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times".

On the plus side, life is still good. On the minus side, I have had two of the most challenging days.

Yesterday, I was going out with work colleagues. I made a mistake. I should have jumped in a cab and let it take ther strain. Instead, in my stubborn way, I decided it wasn't too far, just across the bridge, and I'd walk it. Big mistake. What would once have been a 10 minute stroll was not. An hour later, I had only just crossed the bridge and was exhausted. I gave in, hailed a cab and went home.

Today, I took the advice of my parents and, finding a 'blue badge' bay vacant at my local station, caught the train from there. Approvingly, I noted the lifts serving the platforms which wouldc ease my homeward journey. The only wrinkle was that the returnc train didn't stop at one of those platforms but at one of the two 'terminus' platforms. So I had to walk the length of the platform, then I had a choice of walking back up the neighbouring platform to use the lift or to take the much shorter route through the underpass. I decided that the stairs would be the lesser of two evils.

But I've learned a valuable lesson: don't listen to parents who, however well-meaning, really have no appreciation of what makes life challenging.

11 November 2010

This is an entry that I have agonised about writing. The only reason for my hesitancy is that whilst you don't know who I am, and generally I don't give a damn who knows anything about me, there are one or two people who do know who I am, and I'm not sure that they want to know what I'm about to write. So, if you know me and think that there is a limit to what you'd like to hear, I suggest you avoid this entry.

For some time, I've has impaired sensation. Mostly it's in my fingers. Well, it's in my fingers all the time, sometimes worse than others – especially when I'm tired – but mostly it's ok. At one point I partially lost sensation in the whole lower part of my body – from my waist to my toes. It was pretty distressing, given that a lot of important stuff goes on below my waist. However, after a couple of days the sensation returned, or at least as near as makes no difference.

There is one part of me where it does make a difference though. I'm not sure if it's an age thing, or to do with my reduced energy levels, but I now find it difficult to maintain an erection. It was a problem at first because I was dating someone and I couldn't easily put on a condom. Now since then, I've had a vasectomy, so in an established relationship, where we've both been screened for STDs, it's not an issue. But when I am between relationships, or contemplating a new one, it's important to be able to 'glove up'. In order to do that, I need to have a maintained hard erection. And I can't do that easily, especially if fatigued.

So I went to see my GP. I'd discussed if briefly with him before, but since I couldn't be sure of how long it was going to last (if it was transient or permanent) I left it. But this time, I wanted to follow it through. My GP was brilliant, as always, and I left with a prescription for Viagra. I've only tried one, but the result was fantastic. I felt a little warmth around my face, which was odd, but everything worked exactly as it should. And my sensitivity was enhanced. So now I don't have any fears about when I need to use the blue pill 'in anger'.

9 November 2010

Sitting on the train this morning, I went past some building developments. The signs outside showed that the work was financed by this or that City firm. And it crossed my mind, in a word-smith sort of way, that the City chewed me up and spat me out. Of Course that’s not true. Yes I had trouble working in the early days post-MS, but that was all part of the process of understanding and adapting to it.
The only job that I ‘lost’, in terms of a contract ending prematurely was the last one before my lengthy period of unemployment. And to be honest, when I was struggling to stay awake and to concentrate, I’d have got rid of me. I was at a point where I really didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want anyone related to work to know, for fear of getting no more work. On reflection, I may have made things harder for myself than they needed to be, but I will never know.
In reality, I loved the 25 years I worked in the City. Sure it had its ups and downs, but far more ups than downs. And I made some wonderful friends, worked with so many great people. I learned all that I know about people management and matured as a person. (Yes, I was more immature once. Hard to believe, I know.)

1 November 2010

Today has been a pretty crappy day.

It started so promisingly. The man turned up on time to sort out my heating, and then I set off to work. Parking space at the station, no problem.

I had about 5 minutes before the train. I knew I needed to get some cigarettes, so decided not to try for the train, have a smoke, get the next one.

As I walked down the platform, I was wobbly, really wobbly. I was falling against the wall, the posts, anything handy along the platform. I knew I had over 20 minutes before my train, so no rush. I just needed to make it to the bench, then sit down and rest. Wait for the train.

About 2 yards from the bench, I lost it. My stick was in the wrong place to support me, and I feel forward onto my face. Strange really, as I've generally fallen backwards. So there I was, flat on my face on the floor. Thinking to myself “how did this happen?” Odd really, how things look from down there. To be honest, I could quite happily have stayed there. I was comfortable, it wasn't cold.

But I knew that if I did, someone would ask if I was ok, maybe call an ambulance, certainly cause a fuss. I hate fuss.

So I carefully hauled myself to my feet and manoeuvred myself onto the bench. Whilst I was doing that, the kindly station staff lady was there, asking if I was ok. I love the fact that people are so nice, but I hate it at the same time. It would be fine if they (and I) were helping someone else. Anybody else. But no, it was me.