Extreme Knitting Redhead: Hooked

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Hooked

Here are a couple of action photos from the London marathon snapped by the Alzheimer's Research Trust supporters.

People asked me what I did with the length of chain whilst I was crocheting and here you can see - I coiled it around my left wrist and then when it got too heavy I tied some yarn through the middle and attached it to my belt.

I don't know why I look so happy as my arms were really hurting at that stage (around mile 14)!

My neck is still giving me a few problems but I've had more deep tissue massage and it seems to have eased it a bit so I'm hoping I'll be able to knit again soon.

In the meantime I've been crocheting on my ripple blanket and doing some bargello needlework as I can hold my head higher doing that.

2 comments:

catdownunder said...: Hello from the knitting cat from Downunder...(I found you via Shetland Arts and Crafts). How do you manage not to drop the stitches?; September 3, 2010 at 12:00:00 AM PDT
Susie Hewer said...: Hi Cat and thanks for dropping by. In answer to your question - with great difficulty! When I did the knitting and running I counted stitches all the time and whenever someone nudged past me and I lost one I soon knew about it. With the crochet it took a while to get going as the loop kept falling off the hook!; September 23, 2010 at 2:37:00 AM PDT

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Mum's Story

In 1997 my mother, then aged 81, had a series of minor strokes. Shortly after that we started to notice behavioural changes notably memory loss and confusion over everyday items. We thought it was just old age finally catching up with her. Then she started wandering and had violent mood swings. Although she already lived with us it became obvious that she couldn't be left alone for long and so I left my job to care for her. The next few years saw a gradual decline into the blackness that is 'vascular dementia'. My normally placid mum became violent and aggressive. She had psychotic incidents where she would see imaginary people (children hiding in her wardrobe, Russians sitting on the stairs, women stealing her clothes) and she would shout at them and sometimes throw things too. She was so convincing that we used to go and check that there wasn't anyone there! When my sister died mum did not know who Judy was or that she was her daughter. There came a point when I suddenly realised she no longer knew that I was her daughter and this was a terrible time for me. In the last 2 years that she lived with us, life for us all became almost unbearable as she needed 24 hour care - she couldn't be left alone at all because she would either wander off or hurt herself, she never slept for more than 30 minutes at a time during the night, she became incontinent and incapable of doing anything for herself. Finally my husband and I realised that we could no longer provide her with the care that she needed and she went to live in a special care home where the team did a splendid job caring for her in the last few months of her life. There she lived a zombified existence unaware of who she was, what she was or where she was. It was heartbreaking. She died in March 2005, the day after her 89th birthday.

Thank you for taking the time to read mum's story and I hope you'll dig deep and sponsor me using the link below to help find a way of beating this destructive disease.