I've long believed that if you truly want something, you WILL get it. You may end having to sacrifice something (at this moment in my life I believe now both my furbabies were taken so that I am free to travel in the not-too-distant future). I'd rather they were here and looked after by my Mum whilst I travel, but right now thinking that way is what's helping me deal with them not being around any more - to think they've gone just because this world is evil would probably break me and see me sobbing in a corner somewhere.
I've always considered myself to be a "lucky" person - yes, even after all the pain, heartbreak, sorrow and bad luck which seems to have crossed my path. Some people don't have half of what I have, so compared to them I am very lucky, and don't we all have to deal with a little bit of darkness, to be able to appreciate the light? Ok, so I may have dealt with more darkness than the average person (within my circle of friends I've definitely had more dark than light, but that's my journey - they are all on a different one to me, and for the most part I think they appreciate how lucky they are to live in the light (not all of them, but most do)).
One area where I am always lucky, is that I always get what I want - within reason; obviously I didn't get my furbabies to live longer, my bestie or my Dad either, but there are some things I cannot have control over, and sadly those are things I get to have no say in. Their lives were on a different path to mine and their fate was decided long before I began to beg for them to survive and be able to spend more time on this earth. I don't like it, would give all I have (and more) for them all to still be alive, but I have to accept there was nothing I could do about any of them. Even with my dog; I could have put her through that surgery, however, I know (deep down) the end result would have been the same. Her death would have been different, but it would still have happened on the day it happened. You can't mess with fate.
Anyway, back to it what I was saying about being "lucky". I've found, in my life, if I want something, really want it, I always get it. I may not get it when I want it (I wanted my own business by the time I was 25 - it happened when I was 35). I didn't think about the schematics of everything though. I assumed it would be a roaring success immediately and that I would be able to choose my hours and have a team of staff around me. On that, I wasn't so lucky. It is still me, it's a constant struggle on a day-to-day basis and I work pretty much all the hours that I can physically (and mentally) squeeze in. I still have no money and nothing to show for it. I live in a room at my Mum's house and earn less now than I did when I started work over 30 years ago. However, I love what I do, am lucky to have a job I enjoy doing, and have been even luckier to have a financier back me all the way - he could pull the plug at any time and I'd lose everything, so, there you see, I am lucky.
I've not just been handed these things though. I've had to work for them, make sacrifices for them. The shop I've pretty much given up my life for. I cannot afford to go out and have fun with friends any more - I also don't have the time to. While other people can take a few days off if they are feeling under-the-weather, I still have to work; I have a responsibility to my customers. Whilst I was extremely lucky to complete my whistle stop tour of American back in 2014, I gave up smoking many years before to be able to put the money aside to pay for it - since then more things have happened and I've had to use any spare cash just to get through to the end of the month so couldn't do again what I did then, but I did it. I made the sacrifice and got what I wanted. I always do, in the end.
That's what this post is about. Getting what we want, in the end, and how we need to be careful what we wish for, because not everything we get is good. As I have just discovered.
When I was a kid I never had any of the childhood diseases. My cousin (who's a day younger than me and who I spent all my time with) got them; my friends, neighbours, even my Dad (bless him, I think I must have been a carrier) got them. I got none. I remember the excitement I felt when I came up in a rash one year just before Christmas. I thought I was finally going to be able to go to school and say "hey, look; I've got so-and-so". Turns out all I had was an allergy to real Christmas Trees (I still have to spend the whole of December taking antihistamines).
As the years rolled on, so I watched more and more friends and family take time off school due to one illness or another; still I never got anything. Still I had to go to school. My brother had them all - he is 8 years younger than me so I was working by the time he got to senior school. However, I was still at school when he got all his childhood diseases. I would come home from school to find he'd been sat on the sofa all day being spoiled and waited on. Still I never got anything.
It became a bit of a running joke and as friends had kids, so I was asked to spend time with any child who had an illness, before then spending time with those who didn't have it, in the hope I would spread it around - apparently it's better to get these things as a kid. 99.9% of the time the ones without would then end up coming down with whatever was going around. It was decided I must be a "carrier" for sure.
The weekend before last I had a lovely time. I took my little old Mum out to different places on both days - she's really struggling not having the dog around and I didn't want to be sitting about doing nothing, so I figured I'd spend some time doing things with her. When I started to feel a bit low on the Sunday evening I thought nothing of it. There are a lot of colds and flu's about, and I thought being out-and-about in the cold might have triggered some sniffles. However, by the time I finished work on the Monday I was feeling like crap. Thankfully, that day we'd finally had our gas sorted and had some heating in the house (we'd been without for almost 3 months) so I got home from work, turned my radiator on and took myself off to bed for the evening - something, I never do.
How I dragged myself out of bed on the Tuesday I will never know. All I remember is it took me 6 hours at work to do something which should have taken no more than 1.5 hours - MAX. I didn't have a single ounce of energy and in the end, closed the shop early, again taking myself home to bed. Whilst in the shower that evening I noticed a few spots had appeared on my tummy. I thought nothing of it, putting it down to me being a bit run down and left it at that.
By the time I got up on Wednesday for work I had more than a few spots; I had loads appearing, across my body and head. I also had the worst itchy head. I can't even describe how bad it felt. I'd used a new shampoo so put it down to that. I did think it a good idea to pop to the chemist though, just to see what they thought. He told me he was convinced it was an allergy to something I'd eaten, sold me some cream to put on them and some antihistamine and sent my on my way. The flu bug was still in the midst of it's grip so I did what I had to do at work, closed the shop and went home to bed.
I didn't sleep at all that Wednesday night. My head was itching like crazy (I'd had a few lumpy spots come up on it) I was hot, cold, shivering, boiling and so many other things at once. I felt so bad I decided not to go to work - I had nothing in the order book on that Thursday which was a huge bonus. When I finally realised at 5am that sleep was never going to visit, I took myself off downstairs. My Mum got up an hour later, walked in the room, took one look at me and gasped. From the tip of my head, to the balls of my feet, I was covered - literally covered - in spots. She told me whatever was wrong with me was far worse than just an allergy.
Luckily I phoned the docs at 8am getting an appointment for 4pm that same day. By the time I got there, I had very little skin without a spot. I asked if I could not sit in the main waiting room - just in case it was something more than an allergy, for I'd seen a pregnant lady go in before me and was worried if I had something contagious it could affect her - and when I showed the receptionist my face and body (I'd kept my head down so as not to draw attention to myself) she allowed me to sit in a different room alone.
The doctor took one look at me, declaring immediately "oh my, you have chickenpox". I asked her if she "was sure". Turns out her medical training suggest she knew what she was talking about. She then told me I was her first adult ever, and she had to look up what she needed to give me - as an adult chickenpox can be quite dangerous so I was put on a course of antiviral drugs (10 a day for 7 days, and having to take then 2 at a time, 5 times a day - have you ever tried to remember to take antibiotics 3 times a day? try 5 times a day; how I've not missed a dose is beyond me). I was sent home with a sick note for 10 days. This did make me laugh. I pointed out I have to work and was told not all the time I was contagious. In the end I had to lock the shop doors and deal with customers through the door. I couldn't not work for I had so much funeral work on and I have nobody else to do it for me.
So, there you go. All those years as a child and I wanted to get chickenpox so I could have time off school and I never even got a spot. As an adult, when I could take no time off (I had just the Thursday off) I went and bloody well got it, and I got it good. I had spots everywhere. In my ears, nasal passage, mouth, down the back of my throat, in a delicate lady area!!! I even had them inside the crack of my bum. Luckily in one way, I had only one patch of really itchy ones; unluckily they were on my head, and in the early hours of Friday morning I did consider scalping myself to make it stop. I didn't sleep for 4 nights. By the time Sunday came around I was exhausted beyond all exhaustion I've ever felt in my life. I didn't even know it was possible for a human being to go without sleep for so long and still be able to function.
Thankfully, the spots are now dwindling, I can taste tea again (for someone who really enjoys a cuppa not being able to taste my tea was a really bad thing) and I've survived adult chickenpox. All those years as a child when I wished for it; as an adult I now regret wasting those wishes on such a thing. I thought getting it would mean time off, the reality of it being completely different, in that I still had to continue to work.
My head is still itchy - how that is possible is beyond me. The ones which are left have now got their scabs (it's hard not to pick I can tell you) but I'm on the mend. I would not wish the disease on anyone - not even my worst enemy. If you've had it as an adult, you'll understand why. I could never be that cruel to someone, no matter how badly they may have wronged me.
So, a word of warning to you all. Be careful what you wish for!!! You just never know when that wish is going to come true!
Bottom right is the first day they began arriving. bottom left is the Wednesday; The top 2 are today, when it's all better.