The Grieving Jester

There are many definitions of pain, but I have been a nurse long enough to know that pain is a response to some sort of wound, injury or assault, and that it is a warning sign to tell us that something is wrong. There is a great amount of science as to the why and how of pain, but then there is also the experience of pain, which is a different entity. Pain is subjective. B never had an anaesthetic before having a tooth filled, he thought the pain was less troublesome than the side-effects of the anaesthetic, whereas I would never contemplate having a filling without having the injection first. When I used to teach about pain control, I liked to use the definition by McCaffery (1968) 1 , that says pain is "whatever the experiencing person says it is, existing whenever and wherever the person says it does". In palliative care, we may not be able to get rid of the cause of the pain, but we can relieve the suffering it causes. It hadn’t occurred to me, though (duh!), until I read...

 Music has always played a fairly significant part in my life but, strangely, I have played very little since B died. As I’ve said previously, I think it’s because it is just so emotive. I am slowly getting over the hurdle of not playing cheerful music because it seemed wrong when grieving, but I still avoid sad music, and sometimes what I hadn’t deemed sad previously now seems to be. When I have felt like having some music on, I’ve tried to look for neutral music – I’m aware as I write it that that sounds idiotic, how can music be neutral? – and, of course, it hasn’t worked! For some reason I find it easier to play music in the car, classical or pop, it just seems more natural, although I have no reason why!  Music in church is the same, it can make me feel joyful or throw me into deep sadness. I know I am not alone in this. It reaches the guts, the heart… Anyway, a few days ago a video of chap called Dr K appeared on my Facebook page. I don’t usually have the sound switched ...

I am The Jester, otherwise known as the grief of my author. That part of her that she needs but doesn’t want. You won’t know me, although you will probably know some of my family, I have millions of siblings, cousins, and distant cousins. We are the biggest tribe in the world, although none of us are quite alike. We are each as unique as the person we live with. So, let me tell you about myself. I am now 6 months old, although I don’t feel like a young thing, I feel as though I am old and grey and heavy. It’s quite funny really, initially, my author thought I would just sit on her shoulders, admittedly at times more heavily than others, but she has now cottoned-on to the fact that I am actually a part of her, and at the moment a substantial part of her, and that I’ll probably be with her for the rest of her life (she doesn’t know it yet, but I will become easier to live with over time, but possibly not as quickly as everyone else thinks it should be).  My job is to help her experie...

It feels such a long time since you held me, and yet how can it possibly be half a year since you died???!!! I try to remind myself that this is but a tiny fraction of the time we had together, and to remember the good times, BUT I miss you so much! It hurts! Sometimes our past seems unreal. My new reality feels unreal.  Life is surreal.  You are not here. And yet, I continue to put one foot in front of the other - I know that is what you would want me to do.

T his week it has felt as though I have been hit by a truck – I am exhausted! Okay, I haven’t been sleeping so well again, and I have been out most days though nothing has been particularly arduous, but this is not really different to the last few weeks. So why do I feel so tired?  Why is it suddenly different now? Perhaps, it is cumulative and I just haven’t noticed the build-up but, whatever it is, I don’t like it! It is, I think, both physical and mental, and I know that when I feel like this I can become irritable and start to wallow, and that is not good! Having noticed it though, I try to guard against it. This is another reason I miss B (as if there aren’t enough!), he kept me levelled (if that’s a word). One thing I have become aware of recently is how I am now beginning to show a more positive face to the world, but it feels as though I am wearing a mask. Before when I talked about this, the mask was to protect myself, but now it seems to be about what my head is telling m...

Recently, I’ve had an ear worm; you know, a song that sticks in one’s head and won’t go away. You won’t guess what it is, and I’m not sure how it came about, but it’s ‘On the Sunny Side of the Street’; at least it’s a cheerful song! On the whole, my life now feels like I’m walking along the middle of a road, with the possibility of veering off to either the sunny side or the shady side, but to the latter sometimes with no warning. This, however, is definitely better than being stuck on the dark side all of the time, so I’ll take that and try to enjoy the sunnier times when they come along.  One of these has been this weekend, when I had a lovely weekend joint hosting two garden parties at friends in their beautiful garden. It was originally going to be one event, but the delay in restrictions changed it into two! It was so lovely to catch up with friends after so long, if just a little overwhelming. The reverse side of this, of course, is that when I’m enjoying myself it feels a bi...

As I wrote a couple of posts ago, B’s last week has still been playing on my mind. Initially, I wasn’t  sure why but, when I look back, I realise it was actually a very stressful and upsetting week. I think, until recently, I had pushed it to the back of my mind as I found it too upsetting to think about, but I have been talking about it with some of my friends, and I think this has helped me to work through it. Seeing B deteriorate in his last week was particularly difficult as he was confused and agitated. I knew he was dying, but it felt as though I actually lost him a week before he died. The anxiolytic drugs helped the agitation, although not completely, and I was short on sleep as B was often agitated during the night (I used to hum a lullaby, which helped to settle him for a while), but it was the confusion that was hardest for me to deal with. He was no longer my B, and for such an intelligent person it seemed highly ironic, as well as disturbing for me, that he should ‘los...

This has been a good week. This doesn’t mean I haven’t been sad, but I have also enjoyed myself. I’m not sure I’ve realised this before, but it does seem possible to be both happy and sad at the same time! At the weekend I visited some longstanding friends in a beautiful part of the country, and as It happens a place where B and I had had a holiday some years ago. My friends looked after me and made me feel at home. I was able to be myself, a great gift. We went on beautiful walks, and memories of my holiday with B came back to me – happy memories but tinged with sadness. We talked about B and my feelings; another gift. Sometimes we just sat and enjoyed the beauty of nature in their garden. All of this soothed my soul. On Thursday, another longstanding friend came to visit. This time we sat in my garden, and later went for a walk. Again, I was able to be myself and talk about B, and myself. I am so grateful to these friends. On Wednesday I went to the exhibition, ‘The Loneliness of...