chronic illness

Doctor, doctor…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 5 Comments

The universe obviously thought my life was going a little to smoothly, so she threw me a little kidney shaped drama. 

I woke in the night with excruciating upper abdominal & chest pain. Violent throwing up followed by passing out left me a tad perturbed. It was actually a little scary as the chest symptoms mirrored all the things you read in heart attack warnings. More passing out & worsening pain led to a call to NHS 24 who swiftly sent an ambulance. 

The paramedics did a heart trace & found me to be more tachycardic than just pain could account for. To be honest I think the culprit for my racing heart was sheer panic at finding myself in a bloody ambulance. Anyway, an empty a&e and some very nice medical folk soon led to a diagnosis; an inflamed kidney. 


At the just kill me stage.

I had yet another kidney infection, which had caused my kidney to become in inflamed with sheer indignation. I can’t really blame my poor kidney. The number of kidney & urinary tract infections I’ve had in the past 12mths is ridiculous. I was admitted to surgical ward, given fluids, morphine & monitored. 

It looks like I might have tiny kidney stones. These little bastards are causing all the trouble. I need to have a detailed scan later this week. If there are stones lurking they can be broken up with ultra sound waves. Which, overall is good outcome. I am always delighted when drs can give me answers. 


Progressed to I can stand the pain, but I hate hospital stage. 

For the time being I am glad to be home & reallly hoping this will spell an end to all the kidney issues. Another hospital stay & resultant recovery time has put a serious dent in my productivity. So, I am currently stressing about the enormous backlog of tasks I have. I’m behind in everything from housework to writing, personal grooming to fundraising. Spoonie life is anxiety ridden. 

Oh, serious brownie points to the toy boy for taking excellent care of me. Big tick in all the boyfriend nursing boxes. He brought me jelly, fed my cat, fetched me fresh knickers & listened to hours of my morphine addaled chatter. He even got me a cute get well card. Thanks, babe. 

No compassion…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 4 Comments

I’m 36yrs old, chronically ill and a size 22, I am no stranger to a bit medical fat shaming. Sadly, I have had to develop a thick skin when it comes to interacting with the medical profession. Drs & nurses will say things to me that no one else would dare to. I have had to learn to advocate for myself when necessary & brush off a whole bunch of bullshit along the way. To be honest I thought I was fairly untouchable. I am entirely comfortable with my size & though often tiring to hear the same fat phobic lectures, it doesn’t hurt me. Infuriate, yes, but I never felt unable to deal with it. Until recently. 

Earlier this year I had a miscarriage. It was not my first loss. My previous experiences of pregnancy & miscarriage were hugely traumatic and in fact played a major part in my mental health struggles. Losing another baby was horrendous. I had some complications and ended up having to spend a little time in hospital. The one small blessing was the support system I have in place and the kindness I was treated with whilst inpatient. Once home & physically recovered I visited my GP to discuss my general health & how to proceed fertility wise. That she wanted to talk about weight loss was not entirely unexpected. I know standard advice for anyone overweight talking about having a baby is lose weight. I know drs still hold rigidly to the BMI scale & that there is an upper limit for fertility treatment. I know fat women often have their pregnancies labelled high risk. What I wasn’t prepared for was this gp’s insinuation that my weight caused my miscarriage. So, unprepared was I that I convinced myself that I had misunderstood. I pushed it out of my mind & continued trying to process my grief. However, when I returned a week later and she still only wanted to talk about diet plans, what I ate, what I weighed now & how often she could weight me,I was more explicit. I explained my history of borderline eating disorders, of starvation diets & losing vast amounts of weight only to regain it. I told her I did not and would engage with rigid diets or weight loss programmes. Her response was given my multiple miscarriages, I might want to re think that. I enquired If she was saying I miscarried because I was fat & she confirmed that she thought it likely.

 

I walked out feeling a rage that quickly melted away to sadness. I was left wanting to crawl into bed and never get out again. I have struggled with PTSD for many years; my original trauma was an emotionally abusive relationship & my the circumstances surrounding my first miscarriage. It has taken me literally my entire adult life to get control of my shame and guilt. Years of self harm, debilitating depression, panic attacks, flash backs and nightmares all centred around how the loss of my child and subsequent illness was all my fault. One thoughtless dr had thrust back into that damaging thought cycle. On top of that I have fought to reclaim my body as acceptable. I have had to work to enjoy my life in this fat scarred body. My history is well documented in my medical records and I have personally discussed it with the dr. That truth is she wants me to be thin more than she wants to me be happy & healthy. Her complete disregard for my mental health was cruel. That she hadn’t even bothered to investigate my history before speaking is unacceptable. A cursory glance at my notes would have revealed that I was not over weight at the time of my other pregnancy losses. She would also have seen that I am currently taking a medication for PCOS that causes weight loss. The drug is harsh on my already inflamed digestive system meaning that I throw up daily. In addition one of it’s major side effects is appetite reduction. Hence, I have been slowly shedding pounds since I commenced this treatment. I also have diagnosed gynaecological issues, which are much more likely to play a part in my inability to carry to term. The conversation she forced upon me was not only insensitive, but entirely irrelevant. That said, it is never ok to blame a vulnerable women for the loss of her child.

I have chosen not to see that GP again. I attend a fairly large practise and as a freelancer have the freedom to wait for appointments with another dr. I have yet to confront the issue as it still feels so raw. However I feel a strange sense of duty; I feel I must tackle this to prevent it happening to someone else. I recognise that there were times in my past when this dr’s assertions would have entirely destroyed me. I hate that the responsibility to educate & challenge falls to people like me. I cannot understand why a profession who swear to ‘do no harm’ are so married to fat phobia. Why is care and compassion is so often disregarded purely because a patient is fat?


 

 

My week in pictures…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 3 Comments

It’s Saturday night & I’m watching Die Hard 2 in my jammies. I say this not as a complaint. It is pretty much the perfect end to a great week. I’m definitely on the sore side, but at least I earned the aches having fun. And, so, I give you my week in pictures.

The toy boy went to a festival last weekend, so I did a little shopping & eating with my darling sister. Followed by drinks with friends & experiments with new lippy shades. The week proper began with some catching up with my man. A home cooked meal, brand new baby doll nightie & a lot of carry on. 


A hump day movie night was disappointing for me, but a hit with the toy boy. Surely I’m not alone on thinking there are too many damn Spider-Man movies? Calderglen Country Park on a sunny day made up for the dud film. 

Amongst scans, bloods tests & pitching to editors I found time to treat myself to some beauty bits & pieces. Namely more nail products. My manicures continue to be fancy af. There has also been vegan delights galore & lots of feline antics.

I capped the week with science frolics. The adult only Science lates at Glasgow Science Centre are more enjoyable than I’d imagined. All the fun of the interactive Science malls, planterium & live shoes with added cocktails. Trust me those optical illusions get even more freaky after a few tipples. 


Of course it wouldn’t be a week in pictures without some random interspersed shots of things that grabbed my attention. Oh & project post it continues to spread some wisdom. 

Comforts in my bones…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 3 Comments

Chronic pain is hard af. Trying to live a full life whilst always hurting is even tougher. Pain relief medications are great, but they have limitations & complications. Hence the need for back up. There are a million products claiming to relieve pain. So, if you don’t know where to start here’s a few options that make my life a little less painful. 


Let’s start with a cheap & easy product. Epsom Salts are available in every chemist for a couple of pounds & super simple. Just pour some into a hot bath, get in & relax. Epsom salts don’t offer any long term relief, but on a day when my body really aches all over they help. Sometimes even that soothing half hours soak can help me deal with a day of pain.

For more sustained relief I love my tens machine. I find it particularly helpful when I have to be on the move. Often even short journeys or everyday errands can leave me tormented. A tens works by sending electrical pulses across the skin & nerve strands. These pulses help prevent pain signals from reaching the brain & can also stimulate production of endorphins. I swear by mine, wearing my tens definitely prolongs how long I can be ‘active’. You can attach the sticky pads of the tens directly onto your painful areas & the machine is smaller than a phone. Meaning it can be worn discretely under your clothes & is totally mobile. It is possible to borrow a tens from the NHS, but they are also pretty affordable to buy. I bought mine from Argos for around £20, there are of course much more expensive ones if you want something really fancy. 


Heat is another humble, but effective analgesic. I find heat works particularly well for stomach cramps/spasms & achey pains. I use a range of products that provide targeted heat. Adhesive heated pads are great for when you have be mobile. You can pick them up in mutli packs from poundshops & they will retain their heat for 6-12hrs. When I’m at home I favour a good old hot water bottle & heat packs. My very thoughtful little sister gave me an amazing microwaveable heat pack that is filled with wheat & lavender. The smell is divine & it stays warm for hours. You can find a similar one here.


If like me you have stomach issues NSAIDs will be off limits to you. This can be frustrating as ibroprofen in particular is recommended for so many pain types. Which is my I love ibroprofen gels. Again this won’t eliminate severe pain, but it can make you a little more comfortable. I find it very helpful for my fibro knee & shoulder. It is also fantastic for back pain. Ibroprofen gel is available OTC in any chemist, but at around £6 a tube for the strongest formula that can add up. If you qualify for free prescriptions it is worth asking your GP to prescribe it. 

Bringing heat & gels together is Tiger Balm. The balm can be rubbed onto the body & has a bit of heat, but also has anti inflammatory properties. The aroma is a love it or loathe it affair, but I’m firmly the former. Bizarrely I also found this product really good when I had a chest infection. Perhaps it was just the toy boy rubbing it on my chest that felt good, but hey, whatever works! I recently discovered that a similar formula is also available in stick on patches, so you can also use the herbal remedy on the go. I know there can be ethical worries about Chinese medicine, but fear not, dragon & tiger balm are entirely cruelty free. Both products are widely available in places like Holland & Barratt. Again if you are on a budget keep an eye out in pound shops as they sporadically stock them. 


My final suggestion is swimming. I love to swim. My body rarely allows to me do much in the way of exercise, so swimming is a boon. Since the water supports the body stress is lifted from weight bearing areas, which can relieve pain. I find can stretch my body whilst swimming in ways I simply cannot outside of the pool. Swimming is also a great low impact form of aerobic exercise, meaning you can stick two fingers up to the notion of ‘ no pain, no gain’. Even if you aren’t a strong swimmer or can’t manage actual laps, getting into a swimming pool can still be beneficial. Just treading water, holding onto wall/float & kicking your legs or simply walking in the water can really help. Best of all, you can finish your session with a soak in the hot tub or a sauna! 

Obviously you should consult your Dr before trying anything new. I’d also like to be clear that I suggest these to compliment medications & traditional treatments. I take a cornucopia of medications plus physio & other treatments. I could not function without them. I would never advocate ignoring medical advice. 

When the bee stings…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 4 Comments

It’s been a dick of a week. Debilitating fatigue followed by intolerable pain & some vomming to top it off added up to a big NO. However, antibiotics, oramorph & a good night’s sleep have made a big dent in my misery. So, excuse me if I get a wee bit Julie Andrews on you, but I wanted to talk about the random things that get me through. 

Whiskers on kittens…

So, starting by just lifting straight out of the song. The whiskers & everything else in one specific feline are definitely one of my favourite things. Some folk think I’m daft, but Bronan really does take care of me when I’m struggling. He’ll stay snuggled up beside me for days. He will wait for me to wake on my own rather giving me his usual breakfast call at 6am. He sits on my feet whilst I’m throwing up in the toilet & gently paws my face when I cry.  He’s a darling. Call me crazy cat lady if you like; I believe my cat has my back. 



Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings…

We don’t get a lot of wild geese around my way, but the moon can lift my spirits. Be it a dazzling full moon, spooky cloud shrouded moon or rare coloured one; I love the moon. It can be so striking & yet peaceful. Don’t get me wrong, the moon isn’t curing anything. It’s just nice to have something beautiful to gaze on whilst I feel like shit. 


Sunsets fall into a similar spot. A sky alive with colour can be momentarily distracting. Pink skys are always my favourite as they remind me of my muffin. When in Australia I spent most evenings on the deck with my niece watching the sun go down. Every night we frolicked whilst pink hues faded into darkness. It was magical.


Bright copper kettles...

Alas I don’t own a shiny copper kettle, but I do love a steaming cup of tea. Mint tea is my drink. It’s a great digestion aid & can help settle reflux. It’s basically an extra med in delicious form. Besides that nothing beats the comforting warmth of sipping a big mug of tea. 

From here I drift away from the sound of music & onto a few more fav things that don’t have Sister Maria’s seal of approval. 

A good book…

I’m a reader. A good book relaxes, distracts, thrills, comforts & engages me. Curling up in my big comfy bed with some quality literature is one of best things in the world. 



A bath that goes with a bang…

Of course I am referring to bath bombs. Sylvia Plath said 

‘there must be quite a few things a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know any of them’

Whilst both she & I know that’s not true, a hot bath can be a wonderful thing. Add a bright fizzy bath bomb & you can’t lose. Baths serve so many purposes for me. Hot water eases muscles pain, they relax me, help clear my head & leave me feeling fresh & clean. If you can do all that plus be left with sparkly skin, why wouldn’t you??

Nail (works of) Art…

I don’t know why, but I feel better when my nails are on fire. Maybe it’s because my mum always had glamorous nails. Or maybe it’s because it makes my stubby fingers look more elegant. Regardless, I find it easier to face the world when my nails are a work of art. 


Flower power…

I love to buy myself flowers. I love the scent & how pretty the make any room. Most of all I love the feeling of treating myself. It’s great to know I don’t have to wait for someone else to buy me flowers. Giving yourself something beautiful just because is an excellent feeling. Try it. 

I’ve got tears that are scared of the facts…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 10 Comments

My baby was the size of a large olive. Almost all of her vital organs were formed. She had tiny finger nail buds & her body was covered in fine hair. And now she’s gone. 

So, I’m writing my emotions because I can’t bring myself to verbalise them & they have to escape somehow. 

With my health & my history this wasn’t unexpected, but that didn’t make it any less shocking. Being pregnant again was scary. It felt unreal to begin with, but I had started to believe that this was my time. The fear never left me, but the hope grew. 

I felt very pregnant. I still do, which seems particularly unfair. Sickness & nausea & cramps & sore nipples & peeing or crying every two minutes. Strong smells became my nemesis. I haven’t even been able to wear my own perfume. Pregnancy ruled out almost all of my normal meds. I’ve basically felt horrendous but been delighted to suffer. All the pain & discomfort meant my body was doing the very thing I didn’t think it could do. I worried about every twinge, but I also relished them. 

I felt like we were having a girl. He never said so, but I think maybe the toy boy did too. We talked about girl’s names so much more than boy’s. I talked & thought too much about too many things. 

Names & maternity clothes. 

The best way to tell my neice & when to tell the rest of the world. 

Which stories to read at bedtime & what songs might lull my baby to sleep. 

Painting tropical leaves in the nursery & learning all that baby wearing stuff. 

I really thought this was it. All the stars looked aligned. I got caught up in believing that I could have this & amongst the heartbreak I feel furious. I’m so angry with myself for not protecting the most vulnerable part of me. I’m angry that my body won’t do what comes naturally to so many. I’m angry that I have failed again. I’m angry that the world keeps doing this to me. 

Behind the anger is real fear. I am so scared that I can’t get through this again & even more frightened that this will be my only experience of pregnancy. The idea that carrying a life will always end in loss is overwhelming. I’ve worked so hard not to be overwhelmed by what life has forced upon me. I’m terrified of losing myself in madness once more. 

I’m still very much in the process of losing this baby. I know she’s gone, but my body doesn’t seem aware of it. I still feel pregnant. I don’t feel able to take any of the meds that I know will make this easier because I haven’t detached from the need to protect this little life. I have avoided speaking to even those closest to me because I’m just not ready to completely let go of my beautiful dream.  I’ve been able to do this partly due to the support of my lovely toy boy. To be taken care of without having to ask is a powerful thing. Having a companion in this is a new experience & a huge blessing (a word that will have him shaking his head), but it’s true. 

I feel much less alone. This child feels acknowledged & important. That’s a both a comfort and fuel for my guilt. I am aware that I am culpable for creating the situations that led to my boy not mattering to others in the same way. I’m also clear that it is my body that failed them. It’s acutely painful to live with that knowledge; no matter how unwilling the neglect. 

Isolation isn’t the answer. I know that, but I need some time. I have to let my body & my heart get used to the idea that I won’t be nurturing this child into life. I appreciate everyone’s patience. 

Let’s talk it over…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 3 Comments

Chronic illness is a bitch. The pain, the uncertainty & incapacitating symptoms are all a daily battle. Oh, but there is so much more. More that isn’t really talked about outside of spoonie circles & I thought it was about time that changed.

Obviously chronic illness covers a huge range of conditions & everyone’s experience is different. Thus I talk from my own personal view point with some input from fellow spoonies. Here are some of tricky issues that we’re quietly dealing with.

Travel

I mean any & all travel. From trying to get a bus to a hospital appointment to trying to cross the globe. The world is not spoonie friendly. 


Have you ever sat in those seats at the front of the bus that are meant to be reserved for ‘elderly & infirm’. I’m sure you tell yourself it’s fine because you’ll move if someone needs them, right? Well, you can’t always tell by looking that someone needs that seat. Having to explain yourself & ask a stranger to move is not easy. Thus I have collapsed on buses, cried from pain & just had to get off because I couldn’t stand any longer or make it to a seat further back. Which is a pretty good good analogy for trying to get about with disabilities. It can be hard as fuck without anyone noticing. 

Being chronically ill means planing every single outing in detail. Working out if you can manage to get to a bus stop or from a station to the place you’re actually going. Thinking ahead about stairs & where toilets are. Planning when you’ll need to eat, if you’ll be able to eat & how meds will work around that. Worrying about queues & how slow you move & often you’re going to have to sit down. 

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve not participated in something I wanted to because the logistics were just beyond me. 

Relationships

Whatever your illness there will always have to be that early days conversation about what exactly is wrong with you. In my case I have scars to explain & a whole bunch of fairly scary details to talk about. In the beginning I thought that would be the hardest bit, but it so isn’t.
The worst part is all the normal things that are so much more complicated for me. I am completely aware that sometimes I’m no fun. I say no more often than most people. I have many (too many?) limitations. I’ve adapted to that, but I never know if others will. 

It’s scary & stressful to try someone new. They might well get fed up accommodating me. Every time I say I can’t make a social event or have to admit that I don’t fell well, I worry. Maybe this is the point they’ll decide a spoonie girl friend is just not worth it. The truth is, I wouldn’t actually blame someone for having those thoughts. After all, life is for living .

That’s the real kicker, it’s not a problem that can be resolved. Wanting to live a life that I’m not fit enough for doesn’t make anyone a bad person. It’s just another thing I (we) get to think about when I can’t sleep. 

Side Effects

Sometimes the treatments are worse than the illness. Almost every medication I take produces a side effect that impacts on my life. In fact I take medications to help with the side effects of my medications. I’ve taken drugs that have made me vomit, itch, gain weight, lose weight, have double vision, dizzy spells, palpitations, acne, the list goes on. 


Every treatment one is offered comes with a list of possible side effects. Chronic illness is a constant balancing act. How much relief will I get from my symptoms & will it be worth the new problems it will cause? 

I often illustrate this problem like this.

Severe anaemia can cause itchy skin & angina. 

A blood transfusion & opioids can treat these complaints.

Guess what a major side effect of both transfusion & opiates is, yup, really itchy skin. 

Welcome to the conundrum of chronic illness. What cures me might well kill me to. Fun!

Money

Hardly anyone likes to talk publicly about their finances. It’s awkward & it’s private. I hate talking about money, but honestly with regards to disabilities, someone has to. Having any kind of disability almost always screws you financially. What work you can do is limited. Employers will silently discriminate against you & the current  government will loudly throw you to the sharks. All the while ones disabilities will incur extra costs at every turn. In terms of cold hard cash, illness will cost you. Lots. 


The Embarrasment Factor

Never underestimate the power of embarrassment. All of the things I’ve discussed here can make a person feel really small. Be it feeling red faced about a misbehaving stomach or the facing soul destroying humiliation of having to justify your right to be alive at an ATOS assessment. Humility is a lesson spoonies learn over & over. 


Imagine how you felt the last time you farted somewhere you wish you hadn’t & the feeling of falling over on a crowded street & having to talk to a dr about a really cringey complaint & admitting you’ve failed at something important & having to tell the world that you need help with things everyone else can do. Now imagine coping with some combination of all the above every day. Welcome to my world. 

Power to the people…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 4 Comments

If like me, you are firmly planted on the left of politics, you are probably despairing at the moment. Trump has been in power for 13 days & he’s already making terrifying changes. It’s easy to feel far away & powerless, especially when you have a disability. However, the truth is there is lots we can all do & it’s essential that everyone does what they can. 


The most obvious sign of dissent are protests. Taking to the streets & making your opposition clear can be very powerful. I know this can be difficult & sometimes down right impossible for those with disabilities. The most important thing is not to feel guilty about missing protests. You have to put your health first. You can still engage with the movement by sharing details and pictures of marches on social media. If you can manage for 10 or 20 mins, go for that time only. Every little bit counts. 


Another great way to combat Trump’s facist agenda when differently abled is to make strategic charitable donations. 

Southern Poverty Law Centre is an organisation that fights intolerance. The monitor & inform the public of hate groups, help the most vulnerable seek justice, educate communities to reduce prejudice & much more. Racists & extremists are emboldened in the current climate, funding a group like this pushes back. 

American Civil Liberties Union defends freedom of expression & equal rights for all. The first weeks of this new administration have already shown signs of hostility towards free press. Rumoured changes to laws protecting the LBGTQ community are very worrying. Now more than ever a group that can fight injustice through the courts is required. 
Planned Parenthood Aims to provide affordable health & reproductive care to all women (& others who need their services). Along with vital access to contraceptives and abortion PP also offer sex education, sti testing,smear tests & breast exams. With a president on record as believing that people who have an abortion should be punished, this safe access must be preserved. The entirety of PP’s services save & improve incalculable lives. It is an essential organisation.

There are of course many other charities worthy of your support. From refugee orgs to LBGTQ rights groups, there are no shortage of worthy non profits. Anything you can give will help. If eveyone gave even 50p it would make a massive difference. Having said that, I know not eveyone has any money to spare. Again, you can help by sharing groups on social media & getting their message to a wider audience. 

Try to engage with bigotry in your own friendship/family groups. Trust me I know how infuriating this can be. It hurts so much more to discover someone you care about holds these vile beliefs , but some folk can be saved from the dark side. Know your history & use it. There are so many similarities to be drawn between the period between the world wars & the period after the financial crisis. For example the conditions in Germany during the Weimer Republic helped to create an environment for Hitler to flourish in. Compare Trump’s strategies to that of Hitler’s, the parallels are frightening. Learn about American history, having an understanding of it’s story helps to illustrate what is so wrong about modern racism, xenophobia misogyny. Do remember it is also ok to withdraw. If someone stubbornly sticks with toxic views, you are entirely with your rights to ditch them

Share your message in as many forums as possible. Share articles & graphics on social media. Join local political groups, help distribute leaflets or raise funds if your health allows. Talk about your opinions on the ‘alt right’ on your blog or in your art. Make your voice heard in any way you can. Their is value in solidarity, it is massively comforting to know one is not alone. 

Last, but absolutely not least, do not forget about what’s happening at home. Post brexit Britain is no picnic; hate crimes have seen a 40% increase since the referendum. Our government is purposely defunding the NHS & cuts in benefits for the most vulnerable members of society are ongoing. There is work to be done  here too. Write  to your Mp about important votes & any issues you feel are critical. Apply all of the suggestions above when fighting on the home front. 

Finally, support local charities too. This month I’m turning my charitable attentions to Refuweegee. They are committed to ensuring refugees arriving in Glasgow receive a warm Glaswegian welcome. You can donate money or goods & even write a nice letter for our new arrivals. 

Go forth & fight the good, inclusive fight! 

My week (ish) in pictures…

Image ~ ~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 5 Comments

To be honest it’s more like a month in pictures as I have spent a lot of time in bed the last few weeks. Hey ho, I have still managed to wear some cute looks, have a bit of fun & snap interesting things. 

I made it out one weekend to Yellow Movement Sunday. It’s a monthly gig featuring local talent. This month’s included Scottish hip hop & reggae from Skaledonia, Busker Rhymes & Umbungo Nambarie. The event  was raising funds for Suicide Prevention, which I was very happy to support. Check out their Facebook for next month’s line up. 


I’ve rocked some smashing nail art  & debuted new accessories. I caught a few sun rises, including this corker. There have been even more pills to take & moustache experimentation.



My neice, Athena, clued me in on zombie eyes, shopkins, how pesky her Dad is & much much more. Our facetimes are always a highlight of my week. I haven’t been able to see much of baby Kevin as I didn’t want to make him sick. He loves my dangly light shade & I love this picture of him playing with it. 

Work took me to the Ibis Style in Glasgow. I took the toyboy along to make it more fun & he didn’t disappoint. We nipped out for a yummy bento box & then just chilled in the big comfy bed. He also did a little hiding behind the curtains because that’s what toy boys do. It’s a cool hotel with a strong Glasgow theme, which I think tourists would love. The most important parts of any hotel for me are good bathroom & breakfast. Ibis gets a big tick for both. 


There has also been a lot of staying home in jammies, Sundays in bed, cosy comfy outfits & snuggles with Bronan. Oh, I also met a puppy & project post it is still going strong. 


Hope you’ve all survived January. It has certainly been eventful on a global scale. Fingers crossed for a reduction in crazy next month. 

I should be so lucky…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 4 Comments

My annual Xmas illness  has reared it’s head. This time it’s a chest infection, but I caught it early & am hoping to get off lightly.  In my search for a silver lining I have come up with the fact that my affliction allows me to stay home & enjoy the festive no man’s land. 

Cosy jammies, Christmas specials on the tv & non stop snacking instead of real meals works for me. Add to that being able to admire all my lovely presents & you have a happy (if coughy) ly. As is my blogger duty, I will now share these delights with all of you. 

My sister gives good gift. She never fails to charm me on Christmas Day. This year was no different. This handmade necklace & earring set is exactly the kind of thing I love; quirky & cool. She also found these amazing pins that I have been coveting for months. They pretty much sum up my current philosophy. She clever sis knows me so well. 


Jennifer Lemon Designs 


Hand over your fairy cakes. 

Next to hit the Xmas home run is my dear old mum. This year she almost single handedly restocked my winter wardrobe. Displaying her flawless style with these picks. 

I can’t get enough velvet. I am buying up as much as possible whilst it’s on trend, so that I can wear it for evermore. This crushed velvet skater was the perfect Xmas day dress. All it needed was a little sparkle provided by my gold high tops (a gift from the mother last winter). She also came up trumps with a 90’s inspired slip, faux fur cardi coat & floral blazer. 


Pink Clove, Marks & Pencers, Joanna Hope. 

She also utilised her crafty skills to make me these adorable cushions.

My favourite,(ok, only) brother in law came up trumps again this year with this shiniest of shiny Kiko lipgloss & cheery notebook with thick, crisp paper. The toy boy rather originally opted for creepy death chocolate plus a rainbow array of incense. Both of which are entirely vegan & fetching. The lovely Lisa surprised me a goddamned perfect mirror for my handbag & books aplenty found their way to me. 

I have also been lucky enough to have received an obligibly fat envelope, delicious meals, fizzy cocktails, amazing company & a number of other things not easily photographed. I am, as my niece would put it, a lucky duck. 


And, so, I am thankful & hope that you are similarly blessed. QUACK.