About Me

My photo

Hi, I'm Lyndsey. I'm a 36 year old Mum from Wales. I have a Masters Degree in Marketing Communications and Public Relations and put it to good use in my work as a freelance Marketing & PR consultant. I also work part time as a fundraising coordinator for a Welsh charity which I absolutely love!! With two jobs, two children, two cats and a handsome man, lets just say I'm a busy lady. 
From 2006-2008, I wrote a column for the Denbighshire Free Press. I was so proud of the feedback I got for this, even the one angry ‘You Suck’ letter to the editor cheered me up no end; it showed that people took notice of what little ol’ me had to say. It’s good to know that people give a rat’s ass either way! So, succumbing to requests from my former fan club (ok, overstating there – readers who had nothing better to do on a Thursday afternoon) under the March 2014 archive you will find a selection of my early Free Press articles. I’d love to hear what you think on any of the subjects raised…you know, rat’s ass either way feedback ;-)


My Arthritic, Old Lady Knees

I have osteoarthritis in both knees.  I walk like Kermit the Frog. Yes, I am in pain a lot but as I am a girl, I have bigger gripes than Pain... and that's Shoes!
Getting a bit tall to be walking stick substitutes now

I have been stuck in poxy flat shoes for a year now and I am thoroughly peed off! I love, love, lurve shoes in every colour, every fashion, every style. My understairs shoe rack is brimming with dolly heels of every description and what am I wearing? poop purple ballet flats. butt ugly, boring shoes that emphasise the fact that I am a dwarf. Not happy!

For years, I struggled in the name of fashion. As long as I had both kids with me then I could use them as props, particularly on the stairs, one hooking me under the arm and the other accepting that his head is now a temporary walking stick.  My Son has promised to invent me a proper walking stick...with extras.  One day soon I will have a stick that doubles as a light-saber, complete with sound effects and a Yoda cloak to go with it.  I cant wait!

...and this is me in flat shoes!!!
Next peeve - My sexy wiggle walk.  That's kaput now too.  I used to stride, head up, stomach in, chest out, just the way my mother told me. I walked like I owned the corridor!  Now?  Now I walk either so slowly that I can hear pensioners tutting impatiently behind me or, bumble along like an overworked, vintage milkmaid; all buckled knees, bent back and pained expression.  How am I supposed to look like a woman to be reckoned with when my walk has all the elegance of a post-probed, embarrassing bodies patient?

Next peeve - my figure.  My exercise dvds are redundant.  Jogging..as if!  Dancing - nope, MC Hammer days are over. Walking? Sure - let me know when it stops raining long enough. So now I take the consultant's advice and do swimming.  I was assured that the water would support my old bones and therefore be pain-free. LIAR  With the first flippering of my feet, I popped my right knee out of lock and nearly drowned as I opened my mouth to scream and sucked in half the pool.  Two weeks into my swim therapy, I stick to breaststroke arms and flailing Kermit legs.  I'm determined to strengthen my naff knees, no matter what!

Come on Son; only one more mile to go
I've yet to yield to taking regular medication for pain management but I'm finding that my hips and spine are increasingly aching and the occasional shooting pains are enough to take my breath away.  At 36 years old, it was initially difficult to get doctors to take my pain seriously; despite informing them that both my Brothers and Father all suffer with arthritis too. I'm hoping that I don't pass on the duff knees DNA to my kids too, but I guess time will tell.

In the meantime, I'd like to say that I'm still all happy, perky and looking on the brightside but that's not true today.  It was true yesterday and perhaps it will be true tomorrow, but today I am sulking. I'm in pain and feel as flat as my frumpy, poop, purple shoes. After another passion session which involved my fiancĂ© picking up my pins for me, its fair to say that I'm as grouchy as Rhod Gilbert at a DFS final sales event.

So this is the opportunity my daughter took to amuse herself by offering to get me a mobility scooter, but not just any scooter, this one she plans to jazz up with flashing lights and a built in boombox.  A mental picture pops into my melon of me, my scooter, lightsaber and Yoda cloak and I suppresse a smile as best I can. How am I supposed to wallow in my misery with kids that make me laugh all the flaming time?  Honestly, how dare they!!


No comments:

Post a Comment