Saturday, April 21, 2018

A cure for all 'ills.'

Last night was a difficult one. Yes ... I was visited by my nasty AFIB 'friend.' Who needs friends who make sleep difficult and send your mood to places you'd rather not go?!
    I tried some of the 'strategies,' I had read about on Google: Breathing, visualizing, bearing down,' and drinking a glass of icy water; none of them seemed to make any difference. AFIB was here for a long visit. At least it never got to the point where ambulances or visiting A&E were needed, but it resulted in me needing to sleep in, wasting the day and delaying Perdy's walk. I managed to feed the chooks and the neighbour's ducks, but then it was back to rest. That's the way things go when AFIB visits.
     About 11am, I felt ready to face the world. I called Perdy, stuck her leash on, whilst she jumped about, excited to be finally heading out. "We're only going for about ten minutes, girl," I said. "We can go again this afternoon."
    Ten minutes is never a 'target' on my walks with the girl. Time is a relative quality, to be extended, moulded and adapted to fit one's mood and circumstances. Circumstances feel simpler and the ebb and flow measured in natural opportunity.
    We met people: three individuals and couples. The first was Edward (Names changed for all encounters) I had met Edward on several of my walks. Last time, it was at the far entrance to the retirement village. He was sitting on his walker, watching the traffic. Sometimes he moves to the other end of the village, closer to my home. He loves to say, "You met my twin last week."
    I got in first this time. "Hey ... had a good chat with your twin last time. How is he today?" He laughed. It wasn't long before we were talking about the 'old days.' He told me of the 'war-time rationing,' when sugar, meat and other essentials had to be strictly eked out. He knew that NZ sent a great deal of food the 'Old Country.' I told him that even here, on the farm in Taranaki, my parent farmers had to abide by NZ's rationing ... "so we could feed you lot," I added. We parted, and I'm sure he was making his way to the other gate, to surprise me with his 'twin.' He didn't realize that I was going the other way. Edward is at least 90!
    Perdy pulled me towards the beach. The tide was in, dancing on the sand, trying to breach the defences, but without a storm or a Full-moon, failure was on the cards. Perdy sniffed her way along the beach, unearthing 'stuff' with no name and snapping at the occasional insect. I sat for a while on a log, that if I had the strength and a means to transport, would grace my front yard, adorned with various succulents and other flotsam.
    As we left the sand and started walking along the path, a couple approached us. "Perdy!" the lady called. It was the lady Perdy had rescued when she fell about a year ago, alerting me to the fact that she had disappeared over the sea wall. A beautiful reunion and a long chat followed. We solved a few national and local issues, all in the space of about ten minutes My 'short' walk was stretching further than a frayed rubber band.
    Just before we left the pathway in front of the retirement village, we came upon a guy fishing. he was about my age. Of course, I sauntered over. I was curious to see if he had caught anything. I was thinking of finally having a go, to collect some fat Kahawai to smoke and to feed to my chooks. He too was from Auckland, travelling back a few days a week. He was also the proud daddy of a Jack Russell. We chatted about the recent floods. It seemed he had been badly hit, but the experience did nothing to change his mind about living in our 'nature-challenged' slice of Paradise. We will have a go at fishing together soon.
    I need to acknowledge Perdy's patience. She lets me chat, sitting watching, yes, even listening. We arrived home about an hour and a bit after leaving. I had found a way to alleviate the worst of the AFIB. Yes ... I'm alive and well, and if AFIB wants to visit ... I have my walks and talks ... my TWALKS!'


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