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Saturday was one of my first big tests of coping with life post stroke. I had a wedding to attend..Early planning involved finding a dress I could put on myself (ie no fastenings) and a new pair of tennis shoes so if I needed to get out of the wheelchair and walk over rough ground or up steps I could. It seemed very strange not to be putting killer heels on but it was the sensible option.
The first adventure was the journey down Main St to the Priory for the service. The bride had unfortunately ordered a Cumbrian storm for the day so I went down the road with my hat clutched to my lap to keep my dress down so I wasn't flashing my very ordinary non-weddingy knickers to any casual onlookers. My plus one was wearing three inch heels so we went down all the steep bits backwards. We were met at the gates to the Priory by a phalanx of groomsmen bearing umbrellas to shelter us on the way in. Unfortunately most of them had blown inside out- umbrellas that is-, which was amusing them no end. It was a bit of a wrestle to get me inside due to the ramp which usually sits at the step inside being unaccountably missing but between my plus one and various random men wanting to be helpful, me and my chair were wrestled inside. It would have been easier if I'd handed my lap contents( stick, hat, wrap and umbrella) to one of them and walked, but bless them they wanted to succeed at getting me and my chair in and I let them so they could be happy about their good deed for the day.
We headed back into the storm to catch the buses to Muncaster where the reception was to be held. The driver of one of the buses told me I needed to be on his bus as had parked next to a dropped curb for me.I'm not used to this level of attention. I managed to walk/ climb on though without the wheelchair access device being needed. Muncaster Castle is glorious even in the rain but I felt so sorry that the weather was too poor for photographs of the bride and groom outside:their gardens are superb. Still we were given gin cocktails and pink champagne in the Great Hall of a castle which has been owned by the same family for 800 years. Being a practical bunch we soon realised that if we mixed the gin cocktail with the pink champagne we got a much nicer drink which was neither too dry or too sweet.We had a 500 year old Armada -type table to put our empties on. We ate in the drawing room with a double row of family portraits looking down. It had glass doors to the garden just like all those Agatha Christie books where men step out onto the terrace for a smoke.The meal (very nice) was candle lit which again took me back in time. It felt like a family dinner party rather thana very formal dinner. I had the impression that they'd rummaged in an old cupboard and found old candlabra last used by the family around WW1, given them a good clean and used them rather than buying everything new. It made the meal feel intimate and not staged. As whoever did the seating plan had a sense of humour and decided to seat me with the previous vicar of the Priory who was a close friend of the bride's family: he greeted me as an old friend before realising he didn't know me. We decided in the end he probably recognised my name as he was school chaplain to St Bees School as part of his Priory Minister duties so he'd have known my daughters. I have dutifully passed on his best wishes to my eldest who said ' I'm surprised he remembered me after all the times I cut church and chapel.' I think she doesn't realise how memorable she is let alone having an unusual surname. It was all very pleasant and I was glad that I'd checked I could eat properly with a knife and fork before I went. I was also happy that various others at the table agreed that red went with everything and we didn't have to mess around matching wine to courses. My friend's daughter was a fairytale bride and all the relatives behaved themselves although the bride's father sported a bandaged hand from his wife's dog having bitten him a couple of days earlier. A ceilidh rounded off the night.https://www.muncaster.co.uk/muncasterextra/weddingsatmuncaster
All in all I was very pleased with how I coped away from my familiar spaces, helped by my friend ( and the groomsmen) being endlessly willing to push me about and hold my glass and belongings on demand. I feel that I might manage to get down to London for the forum meet up in August now.
It's back to the grindstone today: getting in and out of the bath practice: I can get in all right but can't push up with my weakened left arm to get onto my knees so I can get out.The physios and Occupational Therapists are endlessly patient with me(they're coming around everyday to rehab me at the moment). I now have two rows of tape the width of my bath on my living room floor with instructions to sit within in them and practice getting up from there onto my good side. I'm really looking forward to having a good long soak in a hot bath:middle daughter is taking me to her house for showers which is good but not the same as a long soak. I have a whole lot of ambitious walking goals recorded which I'd have struggled to do before my stroke. I will be able to start walking towards them when I've found a pair of shoes I can put on myself. It's ridiculous that I'm housebound because I can't get shoes on!
The first adventure was the journey down Main St to the Priory for the service. The bride had unfortunately ordered a Cumbrian storm for the day so I went down the road with my hat clutched to my lap to keep my dress down so I wasn't flashing my very ordinary non-weddingy knickers to any casual onlookers. My plus one was wearing three inch heels so we went down all the steep bits backwards. We were met at the gates to the Priory by a phalanx of groomsmen bearing umbrellas to shelter us on the way in. Unfortunately most of them had blown inside out- umbrellas that is-, which was amusing them no end. It was a bit of a wrestle to get me inside due to the ramp which usually sits at the step inside being unaccountably missing but between my plus one and various random men wanting to be helpful, me and my chair were wrestled inside. It would have been easier if I'd handed my lap contents( stick, hat, wrap and umbrella) to one of them and walked, but bless them they wanted to succeed at getting me and my chair in and I let them so they could be happy about their good deed for the day.
We headed back into the storm to catch the buses to Muncaster where the reception was to be held. The driver of one of the buses told me I needed to be on his bus as had parked next to a dropped curb for me.I'm not used to this level of attention. I managed to walk/ climb on though without the wheelchair access device being needed. Muncaster Castle is glorious even in the rain but I felt so sorry that the weather was too poor for photographs of the bride and groom outside:their gardens are superb. Still we were given gin cocktails and pink champagne in the Great Hall of a castle which has been owned by the same family for 800 years. Being a practical bunch we soon realised that if we mixed the gin cocktail with the pink champagne we got a much nicer drink which was neither too dry or too sweet.We had a 500 year old Armada -type table to put our empties on. We ate in the drawing room with a double row of family portraits looking down. It had glass doors to the garden just like all those Agatha Christie books where men step out onto the terrace for a smoke.The meal (very nice) was candle lit which again took me back in time. It felt like a family dinner party rather thana very formal dinner. I had the impression that they'd rummaged in an old cupboard and found old candlabra last used by the family around WW1, given them a good clean and used them rather than buying everything new. It made the meal feel intimate and not staged. As whoever did the seating plan had a sense of humour and decided to seat me with the previous vicar of the Priory who was a close friend of the bride's family: he greeted me as an old friend before realising he didn't know me. We decided in the end he probably recognised my name as he was school chaplain to St Bees School as part of his Priory Minister duties so he'd have known my daughters. I have dutifully passed on his best wishes to my eldest who said ' I'm surprised he remembered me after all the times I cut church and chapel.' I think she doesn't realise how memorable she is let alone having an unusual surname. It was all very pleasant and I was glad that I'd checked I could eat properly with a knife and fork before I went. I was also happy that various others at the table agreed that red went with everything and we didn't have to mess around matching wine to courses. My friend's daughter was a fairytale bride and all the relatives behaved themselves although the bride's father sported a bandaged hand from his wife's dog having bitten him a couple of days earlier. A ceilidh rounded off the night.https://www.muncaster.co.uk/muncasterextra/weddingsatmuncaster
All in all I was very pleased with how I coped away from my familiar spaces, helped by my friend ( and the groomsmen) being endlessly willing to push me about and hold my glass and belongings on demand. I feel that I might manage to get down to London for the forum meet up in August now.
It's back to the grindstone today: getting in and out of the bath practice: I can get in all right but can't push up with my weakened left arm to get onto my knees so I can get out.The physios and Occupational Therapists are endlessly patient with me(they're coming around everyday to rehab me at the moment). I now have two rows of tape the width of my bath on my living room floor with instructions to sit within in them and practice getting up from there onto my good side. I'm really looking forward to having a good long soak in a hot bath:middle daughter is taking me to her house for showers which is good but not the same as a long soak. I have a whole lot of ambitious walking goals recorded which I'd have struggled to do before my stroke. I will be able to start walking towards them when I've found a pair of shoes I can put on myself. It's ridiculous that I'm housebound because I can't get shoes on!
