The Knighton Women's Compendium by Denise Picton

Author:Denise Picton [Denise Picton]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ultimo Press
Published: 2022-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

The lead-up to the marathon was like a roller-coaster ride.

A few weeks out from the dance competition, we received the biggest high – that feeling you get at the top of the Big Dipper at the Royal Adelaide Show, when you’re exhilarated, but also terrified. You expect it’s going to feel good as you race down the other side, but you can’t be sure because you know you still might die.

And that feeling resulted from Greaty’s persistent belief that Mum’s health problems were not all in her head.

For over five years Mum had tried one doctor after another for her tiredness and body pains. The tests she’d undertaken showed no obvious damage to joints, muscles or organs; nothing that would lead to a clear diagnosis or a path to treatment.

Most of the doctors Mum had consulted were men, and most prescribed antidepressants. Not only did the drugs not help, they often made Mum feel much worse. Part of that was because the message seemed to be that if she just bucked up, she’d be fine. Gran believed Mum was in pain, but I think she had attended so many appointments that she’d started to believe it was a mental problem too. Greaty didn’t agree. She was sure there was a physical cause we just hadn’t sorted out yet, and Gran’s resignation made her angry.

I knew Mum wasn’t imagining anything. I often witnessed her trying to manage, even when she thought no one was watching. Barry went a bit funny when he saw her struggle with pain in her head or her legs. He said it was like electric shockingness going through him when he witnessed her discomfort. At those times, he would speak to her like she was a poorly kitten. I often watched him begin to reach towards her as though he could stroke the pain away. I knew what he meant. I had some kind of visceral reaction every time she winced. Gran said it was empathy. I’m sure it was love.

Some days Mum’s pain was more in the background. On these days she was so overjoyed that she had energy she’d make up long lists of jobs she’d like to do. Occasionally she got to the end of a productive day in reasonable nick, but not often. On other days, getting out of bed or going to the bathroom seemed too much effort. Although she slept much of the day, she never woke feeling rested. She didn’t feel her pain was getting worse, which was a relief, but it wasn’t getting better either.

Si would constantly tell Mum she wasn’t well, and insist she rest and be petted. If I tried to encourage her to do a little more, he would call me a bully and force Mum to choose between us.

Mum and Gran tried a range of natural remedies when doctors couldn’t help. They tried echinacea, which Gran was pretty sure could cure anything. The reason that was sort of true is that the very thought of Gran’s echinacea treatment was enough for me to will a cold away.

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