Tears and Smiles, Years and Miles

By Anne Cain

I am 59, quadriplegic with a strong family network: my husband John, two daughters Joanna and Charlotte (whose personal poems appear in this book) and not forgetting my parents who have done their utmost to assist me in the compilation of my poetry. I had to use voice activated software to dictate directly into my computer to enable them to compile the poems. One of my carers found out that the baby she was carrying had a potentially life-threatening condition. Thankfully she survived and the carer subsequently visited me several times so I could see the baby, and this inspired me to donate all the proceeds from the sales of my first book to a charity very dear to my heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melrose Books
• Release date: Apr 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781912333318

Book preview

Introduction

I was 25, healthy, and with daughters, a two-year-old and a two-month-old; and very excited as I flew to join my husband, who was working in Saudi Arabia. Before the youngest was three years old, I developed pins and needles, and couldn’t tell the bath-water temperature with my feet. As a trained nurse, I was very worried because I recognised them to be signs of multiple sclerosis, but being overseas, it was impossible to establish a diagnosis. My husband and friends wouldn’t take me seriously. I felt very isolated by their unbelief and terrified about what my future might hold. I waited nine years before multiple sclerosis was diagnosed. During that time I was frightened, gradually losing my ability physically.

Subconsciously, desperate for some control in my life, I began yo-yo dieting and exercising to the extreme. Eventually I remembered God. Before long I sought, and ultimately found Him; and gently supported in His love, my faith grew. He has carried me in the palm of His hand, through difficulties, drama and disillusionment; to where I am today. I have overcome humiliation; and survived various medical emergencies: a suicide attempt, pulmonary embolism in both lungs, and an irregular electrolyte balance.

This is ‘my story’; 15 years overseas and nine years back here, to date; and between 2500 and 9000 miles from home. My erratic emotions have swung between desperate tears, and relieved smiles; grieving silently for the life slipping through my fingers, but my Christian faith has enabled me to be positive and smile. In my life God’s power has been tangible. ‘My story’ might appeal to an expatriate wife, one having eating disorders, or someone with multiple sclerosis, and another seeking faith and inspiration.

My story.

I am Anne; now quadriplegic, with multiple sclerosis.

From my wheelchair, in the summer of 2001, I gazed lovingly through the window. On the patio, eleven brown glazed egg jars stood elegantly. The gold trim of the ornate oriental design occasionally caught glints of filtered British sunlight. The pots contained herbs now that I’d tenderly tended two years previously. But these same pots had housed bougainvillaea in the mid-90s, in their previous location. White, every shade of pink and peach, pink and white, lavender, deep fuchsia, purple, blood-red, and even scarlet with frilly white edges. The leaves cascaded like colourful waterfalls around the perimeter of the company house in Sarawak, on the island of Borneo. It was a picturesque haven, surrounded by jungle in so many shades of green. Our garden was filled with tropical plants like peace lilies, yucca plants and pink and red hibiscus. Sarawak had an equatorial, humid climate, like Kew Gardens in the open air!… And then my thoughts drifted back again, to another era, way back before Sarawak, to 1983. That was the start of my family’s big adventure, Saudi Arabia, where we were thrown into a shockingly different culture; and I soon discovered a disturbing health concern. I have lost so much since those happier, healthier days …

In 1983,I was 25, healthy and with a toddler and baby daughters, I joined John who was working for Shell in Saudi Arabia. Although night, the heat hit me like a fiery wall on disembarking. I felt excited, yet frightened about coping, far from friends and family in the unknown. After the shock of Immigration and Customs, emotional and ecstatic reunion with John, we drove through the barren, desolate landscape, relieved only by petrol stations and palm trees.

I adapted to living without freedom, and our daughters grew up in sun and sand. But, in less than three years, I developed pins and needles, and was unable to distinguish temperature. As a trained nurse, uneasily I recognised the signs of multiple sclerosis and saw a neurologist. Living overseas, I remained undiagnosed. John denied all evidence. I gorged, and over-exercised, desperately grasping for some control. Terrified, in my own living hell, unbelieved, unsupported, in dread I sought God.

Because of the Gulf war, from August 1990, while John continued Working in Saudi Arabia the girls and I settled into UK living. My left foot started dragging. Tortured by anxiety for both John’s safety and my deteriorating health, I found God, and underwent believers’ baptism. John safely home once more, his future employment became my concern until learning about Sarawak; which in 1991 was our second posting. What a vast contrast from desolate desert heat; to luscious jungle, humidity, monsoons, striking thunderstorms, and women could drive! We found a supportive church. Left-sided weakness began. 1992 Joanna left for boarding school. I felt torn, but chose loyalty to John over the girls, and so we decided to send Charlotte to boarding school, and I felt bereft. In 1995 multiple sclerosis was diagnosed by MRI scan. God upheld me, living under a death sentence. Within months I couldn’t change gear, as my left hand lost strength. My bladder control diminished, making it awkward to venture far from a toilet. Confined with my computer, I formed a church bulletin, and started typing autobiographical segments. In 1996 I was diagnosed with a degenerative visual problem.

1998 we finished in Malaysia. We packed everything to go home as sea freight. The egg jars were all emptied and ready; the patio and house looked strangely naked. Ren, my faithful amah and friend, helped pack the boxes. I would wrap an item in bubble-wrap or paper, and would pack each box then label it. Ren would run