Just to say I’m now back from London, and if you want to see some photos from my most recent ‘tweet-up’ with my online turned ‘in real life’ friend, Paula from Australia you can read about some of our royal day on my other blog.
The post even got a shout-out from the Royal Yacht Britannia on Twitter!
Today I should be in the sunny south west, meeting with our Partners Team, before heading back Northwards to Scotland tomorrow.
So.
This is your chance to ask me any question you want to know the answer to…and when I get back, I’ll answer them!
Hi.
Prayers right now would be really appreciated. There is A LOT going on over the next few weeks. Tomorrow, Guides starts back, and we’ll be starting the Amelia’s Campaign Challenge Badge. On Tuesday, I head down to London for a few days, where I’ll be meeting with the rest of the National Partners Team, and hopefully catching up with some friends – including someone whose centre ended up having to closedown (made even sadder as it was in located in a part of London where the unplanned pregnancy and social deprivation rates are high). This weekend I’ll be doing a pretty intensive relationships counselling course day. Then it’ll be all about getting everything sorted for our annual Scottish conference on 12th May.
The main prayer request stems from this post. I recently found out that two of the Scottish centres are being affected by cancer AGAIN. One of our managers – her husband has been diagnosed with Kidney Cancer, and last week had his kidney removed. Another staff member from another centre has been diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma (lymph node has been removed, waiting to hear if cancer has spread anywhere). If you could pray for these people, their families, friends and medical teams – and the staff at the centres where they work, we would very much appreciate it.
Thanks LFS readers!
xxx
Remember my wall? I realised as I was looking at it the other day that there was still lots on the wall to be shared. So today, I’ll share not a quote but some of the photographs on the wall.
The picture there is of 2 pictures. The one on the left, my friend took of me just before I was about to attempt a cartwheel on the dunes of Balmedie Beach at sunrise on the Summer Solstice. The picture on the right, I took a few weeks later at the White Sands of Morar.
Beaches mean a lot to me, and I’m not entirely sure why. I can’t remember ever being on a beach and not being able to gain a sense of clarity over mixed up emotions or thoughts. They have always been a place where I feel most alive and a place where I feel more able to communicate with God.
During my years at university, I began a quirky tradition where I would always try to cartwheel down a beach (I have never once been able to properly cartwheel). In fact, that I know of, this is closest thing to a decent cartwheel I’ve ever done:
Balmedie Beach and the Sands of Morar have particular significance for me. Balmedie was about a 20 minute-ish drive from my flat in Aberdeen. There were times while I was a student where I felt such huge anger or stress and I needed a place to vent that was better than my previous tactic of taking sharp objects to my arms or stomach. So at night I would get in my car, put on my ‘angry’ music mix tape, drive to Balmedie, get out of the car, run up the sand dunes and yell my head off. Sometimes I’d just scream into the wind, the way some people scream into a pillow when they are frustrated. Other times I’d yell at God and tell Him exactly how I was feeling and why.
It feel good to let it all out.
Morar has a different kind of significance. The Lochaber area is where I went to hide from my exam results after I’d quit high school. At the time, I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d already decided against going to a boarding school to do A Levels. While I was there, I reaggravated an ongoing back injury I’d hidden from my dance teachers the previous term. When I had the abortion, I went back up there a few days after. I was feeling awful at the time, but somehow the peace gave me some kind of comfort. The day the picture was taken was several years later just after my graduation. Again I was feeling pretty bad from symptoms of (suspected) endometriosis, and was awaiting an appointment at the hospital for further testing. I’d been told a few months before that I probably would struggle to have children. Again, being in that area gave some kind of peace and comfort. It was like a place where I was able to get space from the normal everyday city life, think, reflect and gain some courage to go back and face things head on.
Now when I look at those pictures, I use them to help me imagine being back in those places.
Putting the emotions and thoughts out on the table.
Regaining clarity.
Receiving courage.
Leaving the rubbish behind.
Coming back stronger.
And if you’ve never taken the time to cartwheel down a beach…trust me, you can’t do it without smiling. Even when you end up falling in the sand. Next time you find yourself on a beach, do/attempt a cartwheel…then let me know!
I’m really curious about emetophobic women who have children. How did you deal with pregnancy? The fear of possible morning sickness makes me never want to do it!
-Gigi
I’m not sure if this question was directed at only me or others as well, so if there are any of you fellow emetophobics out there who have been pregnant, please feel free to chip in.
Emetophobia made my early weeks of pregnancy pretty tough going and very stressful. I was blessed not to actually be sick (though I think that has more to do with my ‘continence’ in that particular area). The very sight of pasta made me wretch, and the only thing I remember being able to eat is Ben & Jerry’s peanut butter and banana ice cream. In evenings until about 1 or 2 a.m. I felt horrible, I would often cry and sometimes panicking because of how nauseous I felt.
I also had no idea about things that may have helped back then such as ginger, eating little and often (which to be honest I do anyway), acupuncture travel wristbands and so on.
With my medical history it is very unlikely that I’d become pregnant again. I’m not sure how I’d feel about pregnancy if I were in a place where that was a possibility. I know I’d be terrified for the pregnancy and for the labour – especially as I have a lot more knowledge (and more horror stories). I’d also be extremely nervous about how I’d cope with children when they were ill in that way.
I don’t know anyone personally with emetophobia who has gone through pregnancy, but I would be interested to know how they coped too!
Since I was a teenager (at least!) I have had a lot of trouble with insomnia. When I moved back to Edinburgh (almost) 5 years ago, I discovered one of the issues – my body clock for whatever reason is not designed to have long sleeps before Midnight.
When I was in high school I never got enough sleep due to the early mornings. If I went to bed early I would toss and turn and wake up all night long. I’d usually get to sleep a couple of hours before my alarm would go off. I found it so difficult to get up and most days if I managed to brush my hair before walking out the door to school, that was an accomplishment. If I got a wee bit of make up on, a massive achievement. If I had a shower and washed and dried my hair – award winning.
Needless to say I was never the perfectly dressed made up teenage girl. And most of my classes found me head on my desk drooling as I failed to stay awake.
My work in care was horrific. It was quickly established that I don’t function well if I’ve had to get up early. 7.30 a.m. shift start and I was walking into door frames, tripping over coffee tables and falling sideways (asleep) during handover. Even if I stayed awake all day exhausted, I would still not be able to sleep before Midnight to get up at 5.30 a.m. the next morning if I was on another early shift.
I also quickly discovered that if I tried to go to sleep straight after coming home from work (so I’d get a good night’s sleep before going back in the morning) I would dream wildly. Again I’d wake up over and over. By morning I’d be more exhausted, anxious and feeling like crap.
And that my friends is when I discovered two things.
1. Gymnastics
If you want to know how I became a person that watched gymnastics once every four years to knowing who all the top gymnasts in the world are, NCAAs and all the latest gymnastic news…it’s all because of YouTube. I started watching gymnastics competitions, fluffs and interviews in bed to relax and escape.
And I’m quite happy if it results in dreams of me doing gymnastics. They are fun dreams!
2. American TV series
I do know that watching NCIS, The Mentalist or Without A Trace is not a good idea RIGHT before I go to sleep. Because then I think about it too much. But a bit of Cougar Town or Friends is just what I need. I don’t have to think about it. It’s fun. It’s mindless. Yes, it can be a little trashy, but my brain can switch off. In fact with help from a little sunlight (thank you longer days) and Cougar Town, I’ve been able to get to sleep a little earlier and get up a little earlier too. This morning I managed to make porridge AND do a load of laundry before I went to work. I showered, put make up and everything too.
3. Stand Up Comedy
Again. Thank you YouTube. I think I need to get some DVDs too though. It’s chilled, and I love it. Though it does result in me having to save up a lot of money when the Edinburgh Fringe Festival rolls around each summer with the amount of comedians on my ‘gotta see’ list!
I realise that online loads of people will say you shouldn’t watch rubbish on TV. We should be reading books etc. Well, I do agree. But I also disagree. I need to be able to switch my brain OFF before I go to sleep. Not do something that gets my brain whirring with more thoughts. I love to read books during the day when I have time off. I love to spend evenings doing things like helping with Girl Guides, having dinner with friends, going to housegroup, going to the gym with friends. Or writing on my blog like I am just now.
So I hope you won’t judge my mindless TV viewing too much.
Anyway, gymnastics rocks. It’s inspiring. I would probably eat tons more junk and not bother going to the gym at all if it wasn’t watching those athletes put the entire world to shame!!
Dear Cancer,
You have had your fun with our staff, their husbands and daughters. Now PLEASE BOG OFF AND DON’T BOTHER COMING BACK!
Sincerely,
Laura Anne
I saw a WONDERFUL piece of news yesterday that had been posted by Abby & Hope’s ‘Sign Up, Speak Up, Save Lives‘ campaign facebook page.
Scotland has now broken a record for the organ donor register, with 40% of our population having signed up to become organ donors.
Of course, there is still work to be done raising awareness of the need to register, dispelling the myths about organ donation and transplant and the need to speak to your families NOW about your wishes. Sadly there are a lot of people whose dying wish to having their organs donated is denied because their families refuse doctors to harvest their organs for transplant.
The last statistics I found was that in the UK, only 29% of our population are on the register despite the fact that 90% of our population say that they support organ donation. There is a massive gap there that needs to be narrowed between theory and action.
I don’t know if this is definitely true, but I also read that only 26 states in the USA offer the organ donation option when they are applying for their driving licenses. 
I know that a lot of my readers are now registered to be organ donors – and guys – THANK YOU! You totally rock for being willing to give life in your death.
I get bored of my blog at least a few times a year, and so this afternoon I decided to give it a new look and update some stuff.
Like the photos – since the one on my ‘about’ page was taken over 3 years ago and I’m about 20lb heavier and my hair is probably double the length now. And I wear different glasses.
I still love the avatar my friend Diane created for me so it’s now taking prominent place on the ‘about me’ page. I’ve also updated my ‘Causes’ and my blogroll since I’ve got 2 more friends that have started blogging. Points if you can spot the additions to my blogroll!
Hope you like the new look – do let me know what you think!
Many moons ago we established that I am prone to what used to be known as my ‘blonde moments’ but got renamed ‘malteser moments’ when I went brunette. I’ve had a few this week.
Last week I returned home one evening to discover I couldn’t get into my house with my key. The reason? The builders had locked our front door but left the key in the lock. Luckily, one of our builders was only just getting into his van and was able to use their back door key to go round and let me in.
The next day I wasn’t so lucky. I’d gotten home later. I had a horrible headache. The builders were gone. They’d left the key in the front door again. And the only key we had for our new back door was inside the house. Sadly (for this circumstance) our house is pretty burglar proof. No windows available to climb through. Thankfully I had credit on my mobile to call my Mum at work.
She had to look up the builders’ number.
For some reason the one she had was the builders’ sister.
Safe to say I was confused when she answered, and she was confused too!
Thankfully she gave me her brother’s number and I got through to him. By this time a hailstorm shower starts so I’ve taken shelter in my car.
1 hour and 15 mins later I finally got into my house thanks to a builder (not happy with his mate who had left the key in the front door right after he said ‘make sure no one has left the key in the front door‘) came to my rescue.
Suffice to say that at the weekend when I was home alone I was totally paranoid about the same thing happening again so I took our back door key on my keychain!
Monday morning comes, and I let the builders in at 8 a.m. and leave for work a hour or so later. It is snowing (yes, snowing) and pouring with rain and they have the front door wide open as they bring in building materials to the guest room.
As I walk out the front door, I yell ‘Now remember not to leave the key in the front door today!‘ and we all laugh, and I get soaked walking to the bus stop.
As I run off the bus and speed walk through the Old Town to my office I go to grab my keys so I have them ready. Sleet is being blown into my face and I’m soggy and cold. I know I have a day filled with clients, and looking forward to rushing home to pick up my car to head to my friends’ house for dinner.
But they aren’t there.
After teasing the builders about locking me out, I’ve now locked myself out of my car, house and workplace in one fail swoop.
Because I haven’t picked up my keys on my way out of the door.
In between appointments I’m frantically texting or calling friends that I can think of that could possibly go round and get my keys from the builders and live somewhere I can get to from work by bus easily. Unfortunately they are all otherwise engaged (and the one person who wasn’t I didn’t think to call forgetting that they wouldn’t be at work in school holidays).
So this is the solution I came up with.
Phoning the head builder to get the numbers of the builders in our house that day. As irony would have it, the one I get a hold of is the one who locked me out the previous week.
I get the builder to hide my main bunch of keys in my car.
And then we come up with a place to hide my spare car key so it 1) won’t get soaked in our lovely Spring weather 2) can’t be found by any potential thieves and 3) will be able to be found by me after work.
The chosen hiding place was a little complicated but I think quite ingenious. I’d tell you, but then I might have to kill ya! 
As we’re having this conversation, Sarah is sitting on the other side of the office laughing.
This is a malteser moment of the finest degree, but also where watching NCIS came in really handy.
Thankfully the rest of the week has been mostly malteser moment free, until tonight when I slammed the door of my fridge closed without taking my fingers away from the ?door frame? of the fridge.
In the process I knocked a glass jar of pesto over with a few other food items which clanged loudly on the floor, and I yelled a curse word out (it HURT!) and I’m sad to say no one came running because the other residents of the house were busy arguing over bathroom tiles. Glad I was in any life threatening situation then.
I gave my finger a good bash. Kinda ironic given how often I’m saying ‘Fingers!’ and ‘Watch your fingers!’ to various kiddles every time I see them placing them remotely close to any doors.
Once the bathroom tile drama was over, I did eventually get some sympathy from my mother when she saw my finger.
All I can say is thank God for spare keys and frozen peas.
Oh, and friends that give me keyrings as gifts enabling our builders to easily identify which of the keys were mine.
