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Deep yogic breaths required

As you may have already read, my Mum fell over coming out of the airport on Sunday. Well, today she had to go back to Casualty to have her cast removed and another x-ray to check she hadn’t broken her finger. Unfortunately, it seems that EVERYONE in Craigavon with a broken limb was also in the hospital! This meant we had a long wait in a corridor with Mum sitting on a spare wheelchair because there were no chairs left. Finally, her x-ray was completed and we faced another wait while they found Mum’s Doctor (AKA Dougie Howser MD).

Really finally, she was given permission to leave and so I paid the car park ticket and we went outside. However, as we were leaving the car park, I was too far away from the ticket machine and so (after checking my mirrors, I swear) I reversed back … only to reverse into the sweariest person I’ve ever met! After a few words (hers are NOT repeatable) I left Craigavon Area Hospital a full 3 hours after I’d arrived AND in a much worse state of mind!

So, I have really needed my yoga today. Especially some great pranayama or breathing techniques. The first I tried was ‘Shitali breath’ and to do this you simply curl the sides of your tongue up to create a tunnel and slowly breathe in through the mouth, allowing the air to pass over your tongue, creating a cooling sensation in the mouth/head/mind . After you inhale, you bring your tongue in, close your mouth and exhale through your nose. You repeat this about 6 to 12 times or until you start to feel as if you are cooling down physically AND mentally.

Another excellent pranayama for anger is the ‘Lion’s breath’ and to do this you inhale through the nose then exhale out the mouth and stick out your tongue, making a loud “ha” sound. Repeat 2 to 3 times. This allows your breathing to become deeper and help release physical tension in the lungs and chest.

Try them. Perhaps they will be a better option than just swearing your head off when some daft girl reverses into you!




Gwen’s trip abroad followed by another trip

Gwen and Andy (the olds) were back from a week’s hols in Spain today and I was excited to see my wee Mummy cos everyone who knows me knows she’s my bessie pal. So, I’m sitting in the house and the phone rings. I know it must be them so I answer with my cheeriest “hello!” to which Gwen responds with a stressful voice ” Can you make me a cup of tea?” I don’t even get to say yes when she starts crying! Then, through her tears, she manages to tell me that she tripped over a flagstone as they were leaving the International Airport and she thought she might have broken her arm!!!

I rushed into the car and whizzed round there and, sure enough, her forearm was all swollen and strangely shaped (pictures to follow for the non-squeamish). So, I bundled her into the car and off we went to Casualty. As soon as the admissions girl saw her a nurse practitioner came around and got her into a bed and then they brought her for an x-ray. Well, believe it or not, in spite of the pain and terrible shape, the bones in her forearm are NOT broken and instead they think she may have nicked a blood vessel when she fell which has caused terrible internal bleeding and swelling. So, she has been given a half plaster cast(?) which means that the bruised area is protected by the plaster of paris while the underside of her arm is in bandage in case the arm needs to swell further. She has to keep the arm in a sling and in this plaster for the rest of the week and then, after that, they will have a look at how everything is healing…

As for Andy, well, he didn’t want to go to the hospital and said he would stay home and light the fire instead (and in spite of it being 17 degrees and sunny). When I got Mum home, Andy and I went out to grab a few groceries for them and I asked him about it. Mum had told me that he was in front of her so hadn’t actually seen her fall and he said ” Yes, I didn’t know anything had happened until I heard a thud and then her screaming”. I really think the whole incident has traumatised him too and he is just lost about what to do to help. Apparently, the first aider they got at the airport had suggested going to A+E then but Mum wouldn’t hear tell of it. It’s the usual thing that happens – you are just so embarassed you don’t even feel the pain.

So, if you’re reading this blog, please spare a thought for my parents who are both in their late 60s (although they don’t like people knowing that!) and who had a lovely holiday followed by an awful homecoming!