PCOS the sad reality...

I have had PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Sydrome) my entire life, although I was only diagnosed officially 3 years ago. It's a common condition among women, with 1 in 10 suffering from it in some degree and despite this and its devastating sides effects no real erodes have been made into researching it. 75 years ago in 1935 it was first described as an entity by two doctors ( Drs. Stein and Leventhal) and in that time the Syndrome still remains incurable and many of its embarrassing symptoms are not satisfactorily treatable without invasive procedures.

Only a woman suffering from PCOS knows of the devastation it can wreak on a life. While it occurs in both thin and overweight women for those with weight issues it can make loosing weight near on impossible. The onset of excess hair that can cover the entire body or the opposite, male patterned baldness and skin tags can make women ashamed of their appearance. Most with PCOS may suffer some form of fertility issues, be they irregular or no periods, the inability to conceive naturally or not at all. High blood pressure, depression, sleep apneoa and type 2 diabetes are all other common symptoms faced by PCOS suffers. To sumerise PCOS is the total pits for any woman who has it.

Shortly after I was diagnoised myself I set up a little form for women (and their families and friends) to join, so that they could discuss their experiences and get some advice or information PCOS Ireland , we've a small, but growing community of women from all over the world. I was conscientious when writing up articles for the various information pages of using positive language where possible and the one term that constantly got to me was 'PCOS suffer' - I hate the term. It's negative and uninspiring. I'm still searching for something more positive, but the sad fact it that women with PCOS do suffer - daily.

Imagine getting up every morning and looking in the mirror, seeing yourself trapped inside a fat suite that you can't take off. Imagine going into the bathroom and squeezing shaving foam into your hands to shave your face. Imagine opening the medicine cabinet and a loan tampon staring back at you, a meager hope that this month might be the month; that either you'll have a period and show your ovulating or perhaps miracles of miracles you wont and you are pregnant. Imagine wearing a wig or a hat every time you leave the house because the crown of your head is bare. Imagine being caught somewhere between feeling like a men and looking like a woman because of all the male hormones rushing around your body. For women with PCOS they don't have to imagine, for women with PCOS this is all a sad reality.

Matches, candles & Mrs. Doubtfire.

When I was about eight, or maybe it was twelve I went to England to stay with our 'rich relatives'. Our 'rich relatives' where a cousin of my father's and her partner. They were, what I suppose some would term, 'nouveau rich'. 'The partner' was [and is] a music manger, who in the immediate years proceeding my visit, had struck it big with numerous acts [all well known, but who shall remain nameless for now] and as a result had started to acquire many things, including a million pound mansion. [Bear in mind this is almost 20 years ago, so at the time a million pounds was an inconceivable amount, especially for an 8-12 year old!]


Any who, in addition to their new [amazingly huge and stunningly gorgeous] million pound mansion, A & D also acquired the quint essential house keeper and gardener. I remember distinctly that the gardener's name was Reginald, 'Reg' to his friends [of one I became]. I can't for the life of me remember the [true] name of the house keeper, although I am sure that if I were to phone my mother she would have it in an instant [she has an amazing head for names, thank god]. She [the housekeeper, and of course my mother too] was the nicest woman you could meet, the spit out of Mrs. Doubtfires mouth - hence the reason I can't remember her name as we all called her Mrs. Doubtfire - well we were kids and just thought it amazing that someone from 'the movies' was working where we were staying!

I suppose the most ironic thing about not remembering this dear, and unfortunately long since dead, woman's name is that I think of her ALL the time. Why you ask? Well, Mrs. Doubtfire had a hobby, something she did at the kitchen table, or out in the garden while she talked to Reg over tea. Mrs. Doubtfire decorated match boxes. A little of an unusual habit you might think, especially considering she had 2 young children in her charge all day and well 4 when my brother and I came to stay. But none the less Mrs. Doubtfire decorated match boxes and I have to say they were gorgeous! So gorgeous that for years my mother would refill the decorative box she had been given until it literally fell apart.

And so every time I use a match to light a candle, which is practically every day, [I'm candle obsessed] I think of Mrs. Doubtfire - my Mrs. Doubtfire... I really should call mum in the morning and ask her what the dear woman's name was. But I just thought tonight, as I lit my candles, what a profound effect that dear little woman and her match boxes had on me as a child that 20 years later she is still in my thoughts. I hope that when I am dead and gone, that there maybe someone in the world, who knew me briefly, that will still remember me and think of me often.

National Electronics & Gadget Day

Yesterday, my darling husband reliably informed me that Valentine's Day was a woman's holiday. He said that he was happy to make the day about me and while it was the 'thought that counted' he wanted me to know how much he truly loved me. [ All very 'awww' I'm sure you'll agree].

While grateful, I knew there had to be a catch; what about you, I said? What about all the men?

He then informs me that National Electronics and Gadget Day is all about the men. Intrigued and baffled I let him continue... apparently its held on April 25th and unlike Valentine's Day where its the thought that counts, for National Electronics and Gadget day its the price that counts. You gotta love a chancer is all I will say!

Mortality

Today I did something I have never done in my life, I brought my father to the hospital for a procedure. I am using the word 'procedure' because surgery makes it all too serious and I am just not ready for that. I am a daddy's girl, I love the man like no other and it broke my heart today.

I'm scared by all this, I've noticed over the past few months that my dad is getting old. This terrifies me. I know that my father isn't afraid of dying. He has great faith and I know that while he doesn't want to die for a very long time he does look forward to his next journey. I'm glad he's at peace with this, but I am not.

In a moment of weakness on my way home this evening I imagined what it might be like should the unspeakable happen... to say I have a sadness in my heart that I feel will never lift is an understatement and to think this is just from a mere momentary thought.

Thankfully he is fine. His procedure went well and he is recoperiating nicely tonight. Ill be relieved when he is back home though.

Since my granddad, my last remaining grand parent, died three years ago, my own parent's mortality has become all the more real. I hope and pray that they don't past the torch for another 30 years or so but it really goes to show, life is all too short...

Another one bites the dust!

When I closed my company in September 09 I felt many things;

1. Sad that I hadn't reached my full dream.
2. Happy that I had at least tried.
3. A sense of accomplishment at how far I had gotten, even if it wasn't as far as I wanted.
4. Failure that I haven't made, what I believed, was a true success.

And sure I went through many emotions too; I cried, I laughed, I felt relived, almost all at the same time. And like they say, hindsight is a great thing; while I was truly glad I set up the company [and despite the thousands I lost closing it], I am truly glad it is no more too.

While I heard different in the news, from friends and on the grape vine, in my tiny little world I sometimes felt like I was the only one who had had to make the difficult decision to 'shut up shop'. I know, egotistical and self centered of me. And I suppose how I relate to it next is still a little self centered; today my husband lost his job, or perhaps I should say is loosing his job, as he is yet to find out when his job will be lost.

For the past 3 years my husband has worked for the well known high street bank,Halifax. At 3pm today all staff were told that by June 1st Halifax would no longer operate in Ireland. In one simple sentence over 700 people lost their jobs.

I know, I know, they are not the first and no doubt they wont be the last. But I suppose, I know these people, well clearly not all 700 or so of them, but I know some. I've been to their weddings, I've chosen little booties for their babies, I've envied their big expansive newly built houses and I've ate and drank with them. And today? Today I listened to their tears as my husband told me by phone that shortly he wouldn't have a job.

It made me reflect on the difficult decision I made back 5 months ago. How I tortured myself on what to do. Should I 'shut up shop' or keep going... Now I had nothing like the 700 employees Halifax have and for me the decision was tinged with emotion as well as business sense which made me wonder, as I listened to those background tears, did the 'big wigs' in Halifax show or contemplate any emotion when they considered 'shutting up shop' and making 700 people unemployed?Not that it will mean much to them [the recently redundant], but I hope they did because it seems like all human emotion has been removed from these business decisions, and who are at the heart of all business? - humans.

Finally I've made my own Jewelery!

For years I've admired different people's bead work and said 'Gosh I would really love to try my hand at that.' But like most things I never seemed to get around to it. That was until Christmas this year [or I suppose, last yet].

I decided, in my infinite wisdom, that presents that we're handmade and from the heart were what it was all about. And so, my two bbfffs where subjected to the first of my handmade jewelery attempts. Now Ill be the first to admit they weren't perfect, but I reckoned my blood, sweat and tears had to account for something, right?


Undeterred since then I've continued to make, and perfect my beading skills and have even invested in some professional tools! Aside from the fact that I can now have (make) jewelery that will match any outfit, I find the whole process very therapeutic. It's also nice to surprise friends with a set of earrings or bracelet just because! Today I spent the morning making 7 identical bracelets for me and my 6 girlfriends from school, I'll surprise them all with them tomorrow at the hen party we are going to.

You'll see some of my work scattered around this page - if anyone is interested in anything, or having a piece specially commissioned drop me a line!

To write or not to write, that is the question.

Like many of you I studied Shakespeare in school. I loved the idea of being able to recite from his plays at random but the reality was very different. If I'm honest I really didn't give his masterpieces the attention they deserved, but then few of us did - it was school after all.

Since James has become heavily involved in the Acting world and particularly our local dramatic society I now go regularly to see a wide variety of plays. And I must say I really enjoy them. Mostly I am shocked at how wrong my preconceived notions about certain plays are. Point in case; Playboy of the Western World - I didn't study it myself but it was on the curriculum at school therefore I assumed the play to be extremely high brow, boring and serious. I couldn't have been more wrong. James is currently in a four week run of the most fantastic production of this play I have ever seen (ok, ok, its the only production of this play I've seen - but its brilliant!).

Over the weeks and months of attending various plays either to watch him or with James, I've slowly had the desire to try my hat at writing a play myself. Sort of a personal secret challenge almost. Just to see if I can. Sure I wasn't 100% sure I could even write a book until recently and I'm now on my third! So anyways I have toyed with the idea for awhile now, and until last night I really hadn't done much more than think about. That was until I logged onto my writer's forum, a must for any Irish Lady writers out there, someone had posted that Draíocht are running a marvelous competition to discover new play writes. What's most exciting about this competition is they are actually going to help the chosen successful entrants write the play through a series of workshops - a dream come through for a novice like me who hasn't a clue!

So now my dilemma is, do I diverse now, or do I not. I'm sure many more seasoned writers of plays will be lapping up this chance and there will be me scratching my head, gob open wondering what the hell is going on... but then again when have I ever been afraid of making a fool of myself?

Are you the one responsible...

Today in my search for publishers addressesIi logged onto the Golden Pages , before I even got the chance to use the site a little box popped up and asked me would I like to part-take in their short survey and be in with the chance of winning €200. I figure €200 is not to be sniffed at and accept.

Clearly the good folk at the Golden Pages idea and my idea of a short survey are two entirely different things, but that is beside the point right now. The rather lengthy survey was an in-depth analysis of my and my households purchasing methods. The rather unimaginative questions all began with 'are you the one responsible for' or ' have you bought in the past'. Really its the type of survey we've all filled out at some point.

One of the questions, always makes me giggle is; 'Are you the one responsible in your household for the purchase of electronic equipment?' - i know you are thinking WTF, thats not a funny question. It is if you know me. I'm the type of person who couldn't buy a good electronic device if it came up and bit my on the ass, with flashing lights and a clear concise power point presentation on why it was the better choice.

Minutes after I had selected a big bold 'no' to that question my darling husband rings, if only to illustrate that I am definitely not the responsible person. And as if to add insult to injury he so clearly illustrates that I am not even the person to be consulted on these purchases.James has called to tell me about an amazing deal that Sky are offering. Now I know this deal inside out. He had already mentioned it on 3 previous occasions to me, but the sweetener on this occasion is that Sky are offering it to him at a fraction of the cost.

'Oh!' I say, 'We should definitely go for it, ring them back and order it', I say.

'Oh I have.' he replies, ' I'm just ringing you to see if you'll be around on Thursday week so they can install.'

So you see, clearly I am not the person responsible for these decisions!