I have a feeling that a few people reading my blogs will be wondering why I’m not blogging about Multiple Sclerosis?
​And I suppose in a way that’s a fair question to be asking, so perhaps I should try and explain.
I’m aware that there are many people talking about MS on social media. There are many people with MS and my love goes out to each and every one of you. But it’s hard for me to talk about me when I’m so well most of the time. Yes, I have my down days but they are few and far between. It’s almost as if I’m embarrassed to talk about me, because I can walk and I don’t need a walking stick, or two anymore.
No, I’m not lucky, I’ve worked hard on myself to be well. It took years of alternative healing and positive affirmations to allow me to be who I am today.
And of course that’s what my first book is all about “Different?...You Have Always Been Different”
​Its my story of my struggle to become well without any help from conventional medicine. No  pharmaceutical  drugs of any kind have passed my lips for MS.
So for me to be shouting about how well I am now seems very unkind, when I know what a struggle life with MS can be, because I’ve been there, I’ve lived it.
So if you want to know exactly why I’m not blogging about me and my MS, please read my story and I think it  will help you to understand why I feel it’s hard for me to get involved with the world of MS,
Perhaps my book will help you to get the picture.
I’m going to take an educated guess and say I’m probably  the longest surviving diagnosed Multiple Sclerosis patient alive. So Please, if you’ve had MS longer than me....I would LOVE to here from you.
I’ve had MS for 54 years now.
My last MRI scan on my brain and brain stem in 2014 showed in excess of over thirty scars/lesions on my brain, some old, some new and some still active. And also over thirty lesions or scars on my brain stem. Again some active. So please.....don’t say I don’t have MS, I can assure you I DO? And I have copies of my scans to prove it.
In 1980 there were days when I walked with one stick and there were days when I walked with two and of course there were the days I couldn’t walk at all and this trying to bring up two little ones. How my husband managed to cope with me at the time, is beyond me.
He doesn’t just deserve one medal he derserves a chest full. But that’s enough about that.
I’ve written a book, I’ve written my story down, so if you would like to read it, it’s on Amazon on both the UK and the American site, and on Kindle as a down load. You can even read it for free if you have kindle unlimited. And please...if you do read it, please leave me a kind review on Amazon.
​Love and blessings always.

And now I know why!
I always thought that once my books were published all I had to do was sit back and watch as sales started to flow . But of course thats not what actually happens.
I only got a few sales on each of my books when they were first published.
Becasue I’m a self published author my books are not in any high street  book store for people to find, they can only be found on Amazon. And that’s where they are, all alone in the dark, at the back of the cupboard, way down on the bottom shelf!
Well they were until fairly recently.
They are just beginning to climb up the shelves, but only just.
Both my books have been given away for free on kindle from time to time to try and encourage some favourable reviews. But that didn’t work. Of the seven hundred free down loads on book one and about four hundred on book two, I think I had two reviews on book one and one lovely review left on the  American Amazon. com site  for book two.
Now that’s sad beyond words and very discouraging.
I was naive enough to think that if someone got a book for free, they would be kind enough to find a few minutes to leave  me some kind words. But I was wrong.
I have been told rightly or wrongly that the more reviews you get,  the higher up the listing on Amazon you go?
If anyone reading this actually knows how this all works, please get in touch!
Two agents and four years later after I had finished writing, I was still nowhere. I’m not going to say it was four years wasted, because I did learn a lot during that time. That’s when my son took hold of my first book for me and he published it through Amazon Create Space, after my friends and family helped to edit and proof it. I think we all managed to produce a very professionaly finished product, with both of my books.
But trying to get them noticed, trying to let the world know they exist is almost impossible, but I’m  not giving up.
I would love my books to get to as many people as possible. People that need a bit of inspiration, encouragement, or help of any kind. We all have down days, we all can become unwell. We all lose our way from time to time and we all ask ourselves many questions about life, and the after life. If my written words can help someone, then the years I have personally struggled with Multiple Sclerosis and personal sadness will not have been in vain.
And the years it took me to write them will all have been worth it.
So...please if you have read either of my books, and if you enjoyed what you read. Please please leave me some kind words on Amazon.
I will be eternally grateful to you.
That’s my plea for this month.
Blessings always.

Continued from yesterday...

While I sat in the doctors waiting room and thank goodness I was on my own, I realised I was shaking. I was shaking with embarrassment, indignation and disbelief. I had never felt so humiliated in all my life and I would not want anyone else to have too experience what I had just gone through. So that’s why I’m telling you all about this.
After about ten minutes the door opened and the doctor asked me my name. She was holding a prescription in her hand. As she handed it to me she said “You don’t look a day over fifty five, you should have lied.” I explained to her that I didn’t know that I needed to lie, I didn’t know there was an age restriction on the product, no one tells us theses things, we have to find out the hard way.
And I just had!

​But apparently it’s only Boots the chemist that have put this restriction on? it’s not the medical profession.
I’ve been saying for ages I think Boots the Chemist  wants to rule the world, they certainly want to rule US.

I had always just bought the cream in the past without anyone ever asking me any questions. So I have a feeling this is a new rule of ‘theirs.’
The doctor gave me the prescription and said, “You’ll  know what to do the next time.” She smiled and left the room.
There won’t be a next time at our local chemists, because they all Know who I am now, as all the staff in the shop had  turned to look at me while the chemist was telling me “ I Was To Old!”
I walked straight back to Boots, and as I handed my prescription over (with all the staff staring at me)  to the pharmacist I was able to say to her, with a smile on my face, “There you go, and I don’t even have to pay for it now.”
So every cloud does have a silver lining.
But to play safe, I bought some more about two weeks later from a different Boots the chemist, and yes I was asked how old I was. But this time I said, looking at her quizingly.  “I’m 58” and the assistant said “That”s fine”  and got me the box with the caneston cream and pessary without her (or me) batting an eyelid.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m normally a very honest and open person, but NOT for Boots the chemist!!!
I’m very fortunate, I don’t  look my age, partly due to the fact I have no gray hair and my hair is Not dyed.
​
So, if you get thrush, be prepared to lie about your age in Boots the Chemist, or better still find an independent chemist shop or, go online and order the caneston cream from any of the online shops selling it, and there are a few and one with next day delivery.

But here’s what should have happened.
I happen to know a pharmacist very well, who owns his own chemist shop and I asked him what he would have done if I had gone to his shop. And this is what he told me.
You would have been asked if you’d had thrush before, and if you said yes, then you would have been sold it with no questions asked. But if you said no, you would have been asked to go and see your doctor just to make sure there was nothing else wrong, but you would have still left with the cream in your hand, because you needed help immediately. We as pharmacists are here to help you, not hinder. The pharmacist at Boots should have taken you into a consulting room to talk to you. She should not have spoken to you in the middle of the shop with other staff and customers looking on. That was unforgivable and not at all professional, it should not have happened to you - but as we all no, It did.
So to all of you wonderfully beautiful sixty plus girls out there - remember my story the next time you get thrush!
Please, retweet this if you live in the UK, it may just help someone.
With love and blessing always

Sorry I’ve been a bit late in putting a message out, I’ve had a bit of a bad week for lots of different reasons.
If anyone can send me a hug, I’ll be very grateful, I  kind of need one.
Now where was I.
I can remember my mother saying to me many years ago that she felt old age had ‘naught’  going for it and I’m beginning to understand why.
For the past few months I’ve had a dripping nose for absolutely no reason. Just this afternoon I’ve  been out in the garden and every time I bent down to do something my nose started to drip yet again.
The most embarrassing incident with my nose for me recently was just yesterday. We were at a friends 70th birthday party and just after I had got myself a lovely slice of cake, I felt my nose starting to do its own thing. I had to very quickly turn away from everyone and head for a table, put my cake down and find my handkerchief pronto before water started dripping from the end of my nose and I don’t have a cold. So Why? Why does it do this? And it does it at the most inconvenient and embarrassing times.
And another thing.
I can’t see to cut my toe nails anymore. And I’ll bet it’s  not for the reasons your  probably  think! No one told me my boobs would grow so big that I can’t see my feet past them  when I’m sitting down.
I can try and move them (boobs) to the right or the left, but I still can’t see to get my hands near enough to cut my toes safely. And trying to put nail varnish on my toe nails is almost impossible. All because my boobs have grown from goodness only knows where. And of course they headed south many moons ago.
That was why I mentioned to my daughter that I might try and excercise my arms and upper body in the hope it might help to lift my boobs a bit. Her response was, “Sorry Mum, that ship sailed a long time ago.”

​Now this next little tale is very important.
​If you or your friends are over sixty, you need to read what’s coming next.
This  story needs to be told and shouted from the roof tops, so please if you are, or you know anyone over the wonderful age of sixty, please pass this on if you live in th UK?
​.
I suddenly developed thrush a few week ago, so I took myself off to our local Boots the chemist to get my self some canesten cream and a pessary to stop the itch. I could have scratched myself to bits I was so itchy and uncomfortable.
And this is exactly what happened.
​I walked in and asked the assistant for some canesten cream which comes complete with one pessary. The   pharmacist came out from behind her station and went to a glass cabinet, behind closed glass doors to get me a box. But as her hand went out to get the box she turned to me and asked me how Old I was. Me, never thinking tuned to her and said “I’m 68”
”You can’t have it, your too old”
”Pardon”
”Your too old, you can’t have, I  can’t sell you it, you need a prescription for this.”
I asked her what on earth she was talking about and she told me it would be more than her life was worth to sell it to me.
Why?
“I’m not allowed to sell it to anyone over the age of 60.
Then I asked her where the notice was telling me this?
And of course there wasn’t one.
As she was telling me all of this in a rather loud voice, the six  people that were in the shop, left!!!
I was in desperate need of help and I was being refused.
I tried to explain to her that it would take days for me to be able to get an appointment with a doctor and I needed help NOW.
She stood her ground and  kept telling me I was to old and there was no way she was going to let me have even the cream to ease my problem.!!!!
I was about to burst into tears and make a right fool of myself, but then I got mad.
The doctors surgery was only about fifty yards from the chemists, so I asked if the surgery was open and the shop assistant said she thought it was.
“Then I’ll go to the surgery right now and get a prescription.”
And with that I left Boots just before the tears started to well up in my eyes!
I walked the fifty yards to the surgery, told the receptionist exactly what had just happened. She said she would tell the duty doctor straight away and for me to wait in the waiting room.
The respone from the duty doctor was very surprising and I’ll tell you all about that tomorrow.
Blessings for now.

​

I’ve just remembered something and that’s what’s so great about me writing this blog,  I can keep recording my thoughts.  I can just write my memories down when they come to me so that I don’t forget.
A few years ago (my menopause years) my daughter bought me a gift set of sea salt from the Dead Sea for Christmas. So I filled my salt cellar up with it and put the extra away for another day.
Now my husband and I don’t use very much salt, but our daughters favourite breakfast at the time was chucky eggs and soldiers. And for weeks she kept telling me there was something wrong with the eggs I was feeding her. They didn’t taste right, they must be off.
This went on for weeks, that is until the day we were all sitting down for Sunday dinner, roast leg of lamb, roast potatoes and  all the veg.
“Mum what the ...... have you done to the potatoes they taste awful? “
“Nothing”. Said me.
”Mum, they taste just like the eggs you have been trying to feed  me.”
And then there was a very long silence.  
And then.
“Mum, what did you do with the Dead Sea salt I bought you for Christmas?”
And without hesitating I said.
“ I put it in the salt cellar”.
”Mum, that was salt for your bath, Not to eat”........
I’m not going to use the words that followed my confession, but as you can imagine the family all fell about  laughing at the dinner table and I must admit I joined in. What an idiot I was and still am sometimes. But I did promise myself I would try and remember to read the small print on any packages in future.
The Chucky eggs and soldiers tasted much better from that day on!
Blessing and love always.
​Now I can get back to the dripping light bulbs.

My last blog was my brain dead moment, now let’s have another one.
I’m not going to embarrass anyone by naming names, but if they ever get to read this they are going to recognise themselves without a doubt.
A very dear friend of mine had just got in to her home with a load of bags of shopping. She was so tired she said all she wanted to do was put her slippers on and get herself a cup of tea. (We do all love our tea in England). She put her shopping bags onto her kitchen table and went to find her slippers. This turned into a witch hunt. She looked everywhere. Upstairs in all the obvious places, under beds in the wardrobes in the bathroom everywhere they could have been. Then downstairs, also in all the obvious places but her slippers were know where to be found. Eventually she gave up. She put the kettle on to boil, got herself a mug out of the cupboard and went to the fridge for the milk...and there...on the shelf right in front of her were  her slippers, side by side on the middle shelf facing out into the kitchen, as if they were smiling at her.
She said she fell about laughing, and the nice thing for her was her slippers were lovely and cold on her very hot tired feet.
As she told me at the time, she has no memory whatsoever of ever putting them in there!
Brains  being away on holiday at the menopause beach hotel is not always a bad thing.
But when the lights in your kitchen start to drip water, that’s another matter altogether.
​But that stories for another day.
Blessings always

I’m sure most of you reading this are much younger than me? I’m far to old to be blogging, but you know what, I’m enjoying it.
I wrote in my first book Different?...You Have Always Been Different, that I thought most woman’s brains went on holiday for a few years during the menopause years. Very much like the brain fog you get from time to time when you have Multiple Sclerosis and of course I have been through both!  
But I learnt many years ago to laugh at myself, let’s face it, if I hadn’t,  I would have cried.
I have promised myself one day I will compile a book with all the daft stories I have collected from my friends over the years, all the daft things we have done while our brains have been away on holiday. 
So lets all have a laugh and a giggle, especially on me.
Christmas time. yes, the night before Christmas.
I was in our kitchen making the marzipan to put on top of the Christmas cake and also the icing to decorate it. I decided to stop for a cup of tea. I had not long finished making a batch of mince pies and they were now nicely cooled. My father was still with us that particular Christmas and he loved my mince pies. I decided I would have a sit down and cup of tea and a newly made mince pie before I completed my task. I went to the tin I had put the warm mince pies into ready to take to my parents on Christmas day afternoon and got my self one out, than I put the kettle on to boil. When it was boiled I made myself a pot of tea. I left it for a few minutes to brew. Now for my cuppa. I poured the tea into my cup...but there was no tea...just hot water? I stood looking at the boiling water thinking to my self, what the heck? Where is the tea? I could remember taking the tea bag out of the box and putting it in the tea pot...I stood there scratching my head. I was sure I’d got the tea bag, so where was it. Something made me go to the kitchen bin... and there on the top was the tea bag! If the tea bag was in the bin...what was in the tea pot? ...so I lifted the lid and there to my shock and horror was the mince pie floating like a raft on the high sea. My hand went to my mouth and then I started to laugh... and I couldn’t stop.
So that was the Christmas I made a pot of tea with a mince pie.
Now that’s my story and in the next few days I’ll tell you a few of my friends and they are just as daft...I promise.