On average, a 5/6 minute read. Track 4/5 minute listen.
Sleep, sleep, please let me sleep. Tinnitus. Head, mind, ears & vertigo.
The Shipping Forecast.
My ears have gloried in the music, the wind in the willows, the waves on the shore, shingle and sand. Shared chatter with friends. The popping of a cork, from a favourite bottle of wine, glugs & bubbles into the glass. Spuds, in any form, mash, roast, chips, love them any way. The rustling of bamboo in my garden, the murmuring of the radio, the buzzing of bees, the singing and calls of birds, my ears have heard my children’s voices, from infant cries and gurgles, to the voices of adulthood, as familiar to me as my own skin.
The general synopsis at midnight.
High Norway 1040, slow-moving and declining 1030 by midnight tonight. High Hebrides 1035 dissipating by same time..
I see the coasts and shores, the cliffs and bays, harbours and Towns. Promenades and estuaries, creeks and coves, the edges of our islands in my head as the words, beautiful poetry, soothe my head.
Tinnitus.
I hate this thing. It never stops, the noise, the ringing in my head. Niagara Falls and high-pitched squeals. I feel sick. It’s shit. The fear, the headaches, the dread and my head is never silent, it is not peaceful in there. I lie down at night, craving sleep, and the noises are louder. Count sheep? Please let me sleep.
Below, Rehearsing ‘Whaletone Opera’ in Sendai, Japan….. with Sheep!
I listen to the radio, not the news: I’m fed up with the News. It is depressing and frightening. Wars. Pandemic. Death and Corruption. One news item per day to keep up. In bed, I tune to 4 X a nice play or a book reading, something light and gentle? I doze and jerk awake. Someone is shouting. Is it inside my head? Or is it a radio play, a murder victim? A Ghost emerging from a wall? An intruder in the Hall?
I turn and turn again, bash a few pillows into shape, turn them this way and that. I can’t sleep on a hot pillow! Attempting to drift off to Sailing By. The Shipping forecast, the Isle of Biscay or was it the Mull of Kintyre? My consciousness and I were far from hearth and home, surrounded by grey, tumultuous, and terrifying seas in a strange northern land, twisting waves, tall as tower blocks, crashing against high, craggy cliffs. I wake hot and sweating, and in soaked nightshirts, sometimes 3 or 4 in a night, sheets more than damp. Thank the Gods and Goddesses for the double bed. I roll over, wearing another dry nightshirt.
Wind direction. Becoming cyclonic.
I am not in Syria or Yemen. Sudan or Afghanistan. I am one lucky woman. Not in a War Zone, not on a flood plain, not near forest fires or heathlands ablaze. Oh, fortunate me. I weep when yet more people and children take to the dangerous seas in little rubber boats. I weep every time these world leaders strut the world stage, spewing vile lies and proclaiming yet more insidious insults on us, the populations—pompous prats.
‘World beating,’ crowing of their achievements, smirking for the cameras, usually grossly exaggerated and far from truthful. Those same world leaders turn their ears from the facts, climate change, and so-called living wages? And they carry on making the dirty money and filling the same lake, serving themselves, lapping from The Lake of Luxury and Privilege, stashing the cash on Those Islands of ill-got gains.
Fitzroy and Sole: severe gale force 9. Sea state: rough. Very Rapidly:
Moving at more than 45 knots.
I smile when I hear ‘Angels on earth’ stories, I smile when I see people in love, they are gonna need that love. I smile when the spring flowers bud and white snowdrops appear. Mother Nature is fighting back. I smile when I see children playing. I smile when I hear the voices of my ‘adult’ children and dear friends on the phone. I smile at the antics of my Cats, Louis and Ella. Trees will soon pop with fresh green leaves, and we will survive another day. I smile whilst I make my home a place of refuge and weep for those who have no home. I try to smile every day.
Occasionally rain, good. Light icing.
Tinnitus. Dizzy fits. Vertigo. Scars all over my arms and legs.
Most doctors say, ‘Nothing we can do, it’s age. No medication for this.’ ‘Put up & shut up’ in other words. A GP thrust a card at me with the number for Spec Savers. ‘Go and get a hearing test.’ He said. A disinterested young woman attempted to sell me some very expensive hearing aids. Wanted me to commit there and then. They were at a ridiculous price. ‘I need to think about this,’ I said, ‘It’s a lot of money.’ She rang the next day and was bordering on the bullying, ‘You said you wanted them,’ she said accusingly… ‘No, ‘ I said.
I went to Boots. Much better. After thorough tests, I was referred to the audio department at Folkestone Hospital, where I underwent further tests and was measured for hearing aids. After waiting months for appointments. Several visits to hear, ‘There is nothing wrong with these aids.’ Several rebuffs. They kept falling out. Very embarrassing when you sing for a living! So now I’m losing my hearing?
‘Heard the one about the deaf singer?’
The Audio man at Boots said, ‘No wonder. They took the wrong measurements!’ They were too big for my small ears. For the last few years, I had been experiencing extreme episodes of Vertigo and nausea, sudden unexpected falling, hearing loss and fear.
‘It is not life-threatening.’ What isn’t life-threatening?’ I asked. ‘Tinnitus,’ the doctor said. Inside my head.. (‘Oh, so when I fell in the street, it was not life-threatening. Imagine a busy main road. A person crosses the road, falters, staggers, and falls. A car swerves. Not life-threatening?) ‘I almost drowned myself falling into a pond!) I said as I left. She didn’t respond.
I was dismissed; my 10 minutes were up. A few nasty falls, blood everywhere, my arms scarred, falling into jagged stone walls, tumbling along pavements.
Do not look up, the world spins, dizzy dizzy.
Viking, North Utsire southwesterly five to seven; occasionally gale eight; rain or showers; occasionally poor.
The very informative audio man at Boots was concerned about my falls, dizziness, and nausea and wrote to my GP. Twice. Many weeks passed with one or two appointments over the year, and finally, another hospital check-up.
Rising (or falling) quickly..
February 2020
At Canterbury Hospital, Dr Omar Ahmed is one of these so-called Immigrants. One of those people without whom the NHS would be in an even more fragile state. The second person to bother to take me seriously about this frightening condition. He diagnosed it as Meniere’s Disease. I had never heard of this disease. There are treatments for this,’ he said, and started me on a course of medication.
Rising (or falling) quickly.. ‘
‘I can’t guarantee this will help, but I will guarantee that I will see you in 3 months.’ A letter arrived 3 days later. Early February 2020. Unfortunately, COVID-19 hit us. Lockdowns, NHS in crisis, no hospital appointments, and as for ringing my GP practice? Forget it. It’s like trying to call God?
The Vertigo spells are back…My meds need adjusting? But the Surgery is, of course, closed. Waiting, waiting, the numbers ..
‘..you are in queue position 5……’ on and on and messages, endlessly repeating.. ‘do not ring the surgery’ do not …. I had no luck with getting repeat meds delivered, and somehow it all went wrong, and each med came at a different time, and I am afraid to go out on my own. I don’t want to fall down outside again. They don’t seem to care. My hospital appointment to follow up was cancelled because of the lockdown. I am not holding my breath. Carry on sorting. Carry on writing. Carry on planting. Carry on feeling anxious. Carry on wondering.. When? Carry on, do not sleep. Carry on sweating nightmares.
DEPRESSION: An Area of low pressure, around which the wind moves in an anti-clockwise direction, with the wind speed increasing towards the centre, often resulting in gales.
I had been through a similar experience in 2008 when no one bothered with my back problems. ‘Go home and buy some Ibuprofen in the Chemist,’ was all I got. I was rescued after 2 years of agony, spasms, nerve damage, and dragging my left leg as if it were a dead fish. I flew back from working in Madrid in a wheelchair in 2008. Still, no help. Then an excellent GP, Dr. Louise Irvine, came round and stepped into action. I had an MRI scan the following afternoon, rushed into Lewisham hospital that night, where I remained for a week waiting to be moved to King’s College for surgery.
Forties, Cromarty, Forth,
Four and a half hours of surgery, and after a week, I was returned to Lewisham Hospital. I had to learn to walk again. I had to leave my home in Deptford because there were too many stairs. My flat was at the top of a converted office block. A long flight of stairs at the front door, a long corridor and a twisty spiral iron staircase to reach the three flats at the top. I loved that place. And my garden upon the roof.
We were in the middle of the Banking crisis, 2009, and wham, total disaster, my whole world in tatters, the last decades? My life was looking bleak, priced out of my own home town. I left in 2010, moving to Folkestone in Kent from my flat above Deptford High Street.
The general synopsis. Low. Losing its identity. Rockall, later. ..
Deptford, London SE8, my Roof Garden.
Garden Folkestone 2010
Tyne Dogger Fisher German Bight..
My Garden in Folkestone 2020 with Louis, one of my Cats. I have planted three trees and many vegetables. My first garden. Thank you, Dr Omar Ahmed; thank you, Lou Stevenson, at Boots; thank you to those who take patients seriously when they have their precious little 10 minutes to explain why they rang for help in the first place. Thank you to the surgeon who mended my broken back at King’s College in London.
Dover, Wight, Portland, Plymouth, four or five, increasing six soon, rain or slight drizzle, good.
Sailing By was written by Ronald Binge in 1962
The shipping forecast for Dover indicates the sea state is expected to be slight or moderate, with thundery showers and good visibility becoming occasionally poor.
VISIBILITY Very Poor: Visibility less than 1,000 metres
GALE WARNING Issued: 22:01 (UTC) on Tue 5 Jan 2021
Northeasterly gale force 8 expected later
Northeasterly gale force 8 expected later
Back & spine – everything