The victim, the hero(ine): Snow White and Dobby the house elf…

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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The house is quiet. I have a hot coffee… and before I walk the dog, I thought I would empty my head. A little slice of my heaven….the quiet side, because I usually love the noise and chaos!

After 7 hours on a hard plastic chair and 11 hours with no food with only sneaky hidden sip of water when Willy wasn’t watching, we arrived home last night at about 7.30pm. My big man was home… a big bowl of pasta waiting for a very hungry and now very happy, jolly Willy. And a comment to me that I should get dinner on..

And here is where I watch a little scene play out in my head. I watch my thoughts… After two years of immersing myself in self development and life coaching with my wonderful coach, Karen, I see the Victim battle with the Heroine.

In my mind they have names, faces… it’s easier to watch then. My Heroine is Snow White… graceful, kind, loving, generous, abundant always smiling and singing a happy tune! Fa La La!!! My victim, my saboteur, is Dobby the house elf – he can’t help it but he is negative, selfish, fearful, skipping and hopping and dancing around nervously…

Dobby shouts back, hopping and waving his little fist.. ‘WHAT?! Are you serious? Me cook? Now? I can barely stand? I had a protein shake at 7am and nothing since, emotionally drained from worry and relief, still full of cold and you want me to cook?!’…

But Snow White is there… calm and floaty… ‘but look at him… he is tired.. he has tired eyes from driving 200 miles this evening and 80 this morning, he has a red nose so clearly has a cold, he has worked so hard this week.. and he has made the pasta… And look! Don’t you remember you took a stew out of the freezer this morning for tonight anyway? All you have to do is tip it in a pan and reheat it?’

Dobby still isn’t quite finished…little fists raised, gallopping around the kitchen… ‘but no one has looked after you this week? Don’t you want some TLC? Weren’t you looking forward to one of his big bear hugs, enveloping you in warmth and certainty? Someone to make you a hot drink and give you a hug and say everything will be ok? Can’t he see you need that? Go on – give him a peace of your mind!’

Thank God for Snow White… ‘If you cook for him, give him your soft tissues, he will hug you…. Look he is suffering just as much as you – can’t you hear him grunting, snorting, groaning? He needs a hug too and looking after… Look after him and he will look after you.’  Fa la la!

….

You are probably reading this and thinking, My God – she needs to join her mother in the Mental Hospital!  Is she seriously visualising Snow White and Dobby prancing around her kitchen?

But having read ‘The Power of Now’, ‘The Chimp Paradox’…I am beginning to understand so much more about the mind… How you can change reactions in to responses…   One of my favourite quotes, I can’t remember who said it as there as so many variations from so many key authors, speakers… ‘Where focus goes, energy flows and results show’. Us British are so good at focus on the negative, playing the underdog… when really we should focus on what we want, the positives we have.

Years ago I used to let Dobby rule my reactions and last night would have ended up in arguments and no supper, tears and frustration.

Just call me Snow White.

Tale of two hospitals….

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

Does anyone have a week in which absolutely nothing goes as planned? Nothing? (Well my mentoring did – so that’s a white lie!)

I was so looking forward to this week – lots of meetings, coffee dates, gym, spin and appointments, dinner with friends… But I spent 3 days just managing to get the boys to school and sleeping for my usually productive hours. Illness or emotion getting the better of me…
And today – the first day I feel less achy, have more gumption, managed to get up for my Pilates and even had enough energy to take the dog for walk… I get a call from school saying that Willy is unusually unhappy with severe stomach pains. He hasn’t had gluten and he hasn’t been sick. But he is clearly distressed and doubled in pain…. So we sit in the doctors, with my mind wandering from trapped wind to appendicitis.. 
The doctor is stumped… Willy is clearly in pain but can’t explain it. He says it could go either way – stop suddenly or deteriorate rapidly. Perplexed… Considering his options… And Willy suddenly deteriorates, writhing in pain… Little face red and crying.. So unlike my happy little mouse. 
Decision made… He starts to ring the hospital… I tell him firmly under no circumstances will I go back to the hospital who took 3 months to misdiagnose Willy with reflux and then rush him to have open stomach surgery. He puts the phone down and asks me where I would go! It may have longer waiting times and I may not get a nice cup of tea and a carpet but at least I will have faith in the diagnosis.
So I am dressed in my dog walking kit, no make up, hair a mess… How long am I going to be? Do I nip home for snacks, a shower, change and look respectable? One look at willy and I know that is unreasonable… Leeds will have to take me as I am…. 
That was at 11 am… 
It is now 15.43…. We are still here.
Willy was so brave – wards are scary in Leeds. No position was comfy and he did his flappy bird impression, creased up little face pleading at me…. Heart wrenching as a parent and you would do anything to take the pain. I keep calm and pray, visualise a miraculous recovery, a hearty trump.. Anything but the thought of surgery on my little man… It made me weak at the knees 5 years ago and I know it will have the same effect even now.
Willy calms and lies in the one position he finds relief. And 30 minutes later he looks up and asks to go home…. He feels better. I didn’t hear a trump. 
Is this a miracle?  
He has been playing nicely and I have asked to leave but we can’t go! The surgeon has to feel his tummy and discharge us… Even though the bugs going round could be the answer, it could be appendicitis or grumbling appendix… We have to wait.
Willy and I don’t do well without food. Breakfast at 7 feels a long time ago.
I commend the NHS… It is Friday. So many poorly poorly children, babies. The place is over spilling.. But we have no idea where we are on a list – others arriving after us are seen first… Others seemingly worse are also still here. Communication is seriously lacking… The nurses can’t answer my questions, as lovely and kind as they are.
There are parallels with the NHS mental hospital behind whose iron bars my mum is hidden… My dad is still unable to find answers about the plans for my mum, how long will she be observed, when will they try new drugs, what drugs, is the plan for her to leave … When can we ring, who should we speak to, who is looking after her, what has she eaten… When did she last have a bath? No one can tell us…. 
I am incredibly grateful for the NHS and the wonderful service they provide and I know how hard everyone works, having great friends as consultants, consultant surgeons, anaesthetists, doctors and nurses, OT’s… Even overworked.. 
I would be really, overly grateful if someone could just come and tell me if Willy can eat something, drink something, if we can go home… 
  

Dreams do come true!

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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Today is the day that is going to lift me out of the haze of snot, the muffliness of blocked ears.

It felt a little bit like Christmas as I was so excited and awake well before my alarm.. Today was my first day in front of a class of 15 ten year old girls.

My childhood dream as a little girl was to be a teacher, a writer and painter and a Mummy.

At school I was incredibly creative – I was always top in Art exams, I wrote endless stories in note books and I made lace… (yes – lace with bobbins… !). I wanted to take Art and Latin and languages for my A levels but my teachers and parents persuaded me otherwise – I was very good at Maths too, so it was double Maths and double languages for me. I listened again and was influenced by my elders and took Business Management with French for a Degree and at the end of a 4 year course I still had no idea what I wanted to do… A dream of being a teacher, a painter and a writer long lost as my peers all signed up with big blue chip companies.

I fell in to Management Consultancy, quite by chance… but I suppose it was a happy chance as it appealed to both my creative side as well as my analytical side. I got to design systems, look at ‘architecture’ and became part of the technology revolution in retailing. It was a love, hate relationship! It paid fantastically, it was a brilliant challenge, it was time consuming, stressful and eventually took too much time away from my family.

So here I am … going back to realize my dreams!

I stood in front of my class of 15 ten year olds and shared my story proudly. I may not be a true teacher in academic or professional terms, but I can teach them about life, or my experiences of life:  Be clear on your dreams. Ask for help if you don’t know what it is you are looking for. If you find what you are doing doesn’t make you happy, be brave and have the courage to change. True success is doing what you love, because that is what will make you happy… and happiness is the key to success!

I may not be a true painter… but in my Health, Wellness and Wellbeing business, I paint the picture of how life can be like when you are healthy, happy, doing what you love, being your authentic self.

I may not be a true writer, haven’t written a novel… but I am getting there!

So I guess, that’s not bad … realizing all your dreams before you reach 40 because my last dream of being a Mummy is definitely fulfilled… I changed bed sheets 4 times last night, kissed little heads multiple times, trod on lego, picked up discarded clothes, read stories and awoke to my alarm clock of pattering feet as Tom races to dive on my bed with a big grin as he is always delighted to see a new day begin!

Still Alice….

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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So I watched ‘Still Alice’ last night. Something I have been putting off for ages as I thought it would make me melt down, sob too much. So many had warned me off it…

It was a lovely portrayal of a young, brilliant professor who has early onset of Alzheimer’s at 50. It shows the slow, almost minor forgetfulness of names, words, places that could be just old age… it shows how the progression of Alzheimer’s speeds up, to forgetting people, well known places to incontinence and inability to recognize any one, walk or even speak in anything other than grunts. It shows the sadness of the immediate family members as they see the degradation of a beautiful mind within a still outwardly beautiful person.

It was a lovely portrayal. Isn’t that sad…. There, there Alzheimer’s… That’s not so bad, I could handle that…

It didn’t make me cry, sob like I hoped it would. I found it rather a dumbed down, watered down, rather beautiful betrayal of an incredibly cruel disease. I found it more frustrating rather than emotive.

Where are the furious tantrums, the slamming of doors, the throwing of pots, the lunatic shouting? The long silences while locked in a bathroom or bedroom? Where are the hours of searching for a missing loved one and finding them miles and miles away at an old friend’s house or side of a motorway? Where are the scenes of complete lack of recognition for a daughter, a husband? Where are the scenes of self preservation, knife attacks out of gut instinct that something is wrong… so incredibly wrong… but just not sure what?

I felt robbed when it ended. I wanted to know what happened next? How did their family deal with putting their beautiful mother in care, in a home? How did they deal with the grief? The guilt? Were they told they couldn’t visit? Did they ring daily to find out how she was? How did they cope with the frustration of not knowing anything? How did they knock down the brick wall that is the NHS mental care home system? Did they go and sit outside the very important Doctor’s door until he had time to respond to a father, husband’s desperate need for information?

My Mum is lost inside her head.

We are lost in the world outside it without her.

It’s 11.38 and the other half of my sandwich beckons… my head still fuzzy with cold, blocked ears making me dizzy but there is still so much to do!

I mustn’t forget to walk the dog.

Can a cold be a gift?

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

10.21 and I am back in bed.

It feels like I have done a full day already – changed the sheets twice of someone who clearly drank too much before bed…

Willy decides our day is going to start at 5.30am.

Done 30 minutes pilates.

Made breakfast for 3.

Made more beds…

Found missing reading books and driven Tom and a friend to York school.

Listened to an hour of a mind enhancing audiobook as I drive to Leeds.

Got lost.

Dropped off a car in the garage I can never find…

Proof read an email for James 3 times..

Come home in the smelliest taxi in the world with a driver who hawked cigarette phlegm every 10 minutes. (vomit)

I am surrounded by tissues, hot honey & lemon, paracetamol, a plate of toast and homemade bramble jam, two remotes, immunity boosters, FC5 oil and a few good books…

I am probably one of the healthiest people I know – I exercise 4 days a week, pilates most days, I eat a varied and healthy diet and show others how to do the same, I drink vast quantities of water… I am healthy, vibrant and positive the majority of the time.

So why is my nose streaming, my ears blocked and my eyes watering? What did I do to deserve feeling so rotten?

In some books I have read, it says that illness, sickness, disease can come from unhappiness (ie. Disease = dis – ease). We bring it upon ourselves from the negative and sad feelings and thoughts we are having.   So is my snotty nose because I am sad? Because I have suppressed the anguish and sadness of my Mum’s situation – have I been too positive and not looked the sadness in the face and let it out? Should I brave watching Still Alice today in my sick bed and let the tears flow? Something I am not so comfortable about doing…

Or is this just my body telling me to slow down, take a day… You have been looking after everyone, the boys, new school routines, new family chapters, the animals, the car, the food, throwing myself in to my business to make it successful, supporting others to do the same, worrying about my Dad, my sister, my mum. Is my body saying – stop! Slow down! Take a breath… take 5 actually.

So I am back in bed. And here I will stay until the chaos of pick ups starts… including a car pick up today… just for good measure.

It’s 10.51 and blogging is eating in to precious sleeping time, rare TV time… Did someone say Downton had started again? What a treat… my time…. Maybe this cold is a gift?!