Haven’t been well this week, so apologies to those of you who’ve emailed me and haven’t had a response. Whilst in bed nursing my poorly sinuses on Wednesday, I was listening to the UKTV History channel. I love to find out about historic buildings, but on Wednesday, ‘Britain’s Greatest Buildings’ was about the Forth Bridge. They spoke of the people who’d fell to their deaths while building the bridge and also the Tay Bridge Disaster. I know I’ve been catastrophizing about the forthcoming abseil, but I hadn’t realised that bridges could really just fall down. The disaster killed 75 people, I believe, and it’s just one more thing in UK history that I didn’t know about. I feel woefully uneducated (although I could’ve done without seeing that particular programme just before the charity event).

Then, I was innocently searching the internet today, and I came across a forum posting by someone who had already abseiled from the Tyne Bridge for charity. They did extremely well, raising over £1000 (I’m nowhere near that) but posted pictures taken from the top of the bridge to the car park below. It looks far higher than I imagined and my feet are now cold (or possibly sub-zero). Have a look at the photos for yourself - my fears are not irrational! My mam helpfully emotionally blackmailed me, when I told her that I didn’t think I could go through with it. “You’ll let all your M.E. friends down. And the people at the Stroke Association. Remember you’re doing it for your grandma.” I do remember, but it’s not stopping the anxiety attacks and the fear!!!

Speaking of fear, I took my dog to the vet’s today, expecting her to be given another course of tablets. However, the vet has decided to operate on her teeth and x-ray her neck at the same time. She has a heart-murmur and I’m so worried about her. She’s almost 70 by people standards, and she’s been an almost constant companion to me. I think I’m more afraid of something happening to her than I am of heights… That’s saying something!

Hello! I haven’t been around much, as I’m trying to take things easy in the hope that I will be OK for the abseil. It’s in less than two weeks time and I don’t have a lot of sponsors yet. It would feel more worthwhile to step off that very high bridge if I knew I was raising oodles of money for the charities, but it will be far more difficult knowing that I haven’t helped as much as I would’ve liked. This is the first time I’ve been directly responsible for fundraising and it’s very, very difficult. How do you draw the line between reminding people and harrassing them??? I just can’t bring myself to ask more than once!

I’ve got hold of my mam’s photo album so that when I get my scanner hooked up, I can show you a picture of me, as a child, when we went to the top of the Laxey Wheel. I was terrified, and I think it’s clear in my expression. My mam wanted us to stand up to get a picture of us with the stunning view in the background, but I wouldn’t (couldn’t) stand up! I think those memories have returned for a reason…you may see a similar expression on my face on 8th June!

Was still feeling ropey by the time Thursday morning arrived (no rain arrived, sadly). Was still in bed at 1.30pm despite medication’s best efforts, so decided that a massage might help. Couldn’t get a reply from the lady who usually comes to my house. 1.31pm rang Clarins in the Metrocentre…£34!!! Then remembered there was a spa at the bottom of my street. I’d never been in before, as I’m reluctant to go into places when I haven’t got a price/treatment list, but desperate times and all that. I managed to get an appointment for 3.30pm, and it was absolutely fabulous. I felt so sorry for the poor girl who tried to massage my tension away. She did her best but couldn’t get rid of all the many knots. Happily, when I went to pay, I got a discount as the owner babysat me when I was little. Small world.

That pulled me together enough to get a bus to the Metrocentre, where my hubby was meeting me. Went to Boots for emergency supplies to get me through the evening (more money!) and then went to KFC. Hubby’s meal looked lovely, but I still couldn’t face food and off I went to try out one of the painkilling patch thingies on my shoulder. It was great…but STUNK of menthol! Couldn’t face more public transport so had to get a taxi to Gateshead Library (even more money). I really felt rotten, but just can’t stand letting people down - I was mildly scolded by Claire, who said I should have given her a ring, but I’ve loved doing the Readers’ Group talks, so didn’t want to miss it.

The group was lovely. As usual, they were very friendly, and we had quite a lively discussion. I was struggling a bit, but Claire was great at prompting me and asking relevent questions (she probably knows my story as well as I do). I hate it when I can’t think of the words I want to say or can’t remember things. It’s so frustrating.

It was my last talk for the libraries, so that was a little sad. It was almost as though I was saying goodbye to Holly, as I doubt I’ll be doing any further talks, signings or interviews. I was relieved to get home, though, but made the mistake of trying to go out the following day. Disaster! When will I ever learn? I actually feel asleep at the table in a pub! How ill-mannered is that? Again, guilt played it’s part, as I had already cancelled seeing the same group of people twice this year so couldn’t bear to do it again.

So, back to today. Typing in bed, eating Thai Chilli crisps, drinking coffee and about to indulge in some Maltesers. Sent off the last copy of Karma I will buy to the agent I mentioned earlier in the week. It may not get me anywhere, but I’m content in the knowledge that I tried. Did a little creative writing today (for the first time in months) to enter a risque little competition (not something I’d usually do, but the prize is cool). I’ve entered some competitions (today I got a signed Bear Grylls DVD through the post and I won some hair serum). I’m also considering trying a short story for a magazine competition, but it’s not my usual genre… Basically, I’m trying to rest, but trying to keep my mind occupied. Laptop starting to hurt my legs, so am going to play my turns on Scrabulous on Facebook, then have a nap. Sorry for the long, waffly post. Have a good weekend!

I’m feeling cacky today and am praying for the rain to wash away some allergy-inducing pollen (a big sorry to the sun-worshippers). I haven’t been sleeping well, so this has given my crazy mind the chance to come up with all sorts of scary abseil-related scenarios, dreams and nightmares (I think it may be known in counselling circles as ‘catastrophizing’):

1. Will climb over bridge and be unable to step off edge (a la school outward bound scenario, when I went rock climbing and half way up refused to move either up or down - don’t ask why I even went on this trip, as I’m too embarrassed to answer). Will end up on North East news.

2. Will get giggles and, presumably, hysterical laughter is not a friend to someone trying to control a descent. My mind will return to telephone incident with my sister: we were both watching YouTube video of Tyne Bridge abseils (me in Newcastle, her in Sheffield). She says, “OH MY GOD!” in a shocked voice. Me, having taken my eye off screen, thinks someone has fallen to their doom. She says, after a huge dramatic pause, “Her SHOE fell off!” I have now got a pair of shoes with elastic laces, that should neither fall off, nor get caught in the ropey-contraption. May still get hysterical, though - shoes are not miracle workers.

3. Will have a wardrobe malfunction - we know I’ve experienced this before (Borders, Gateshead). The latest fear is the harness sliding down and me mooning the poor people gathered below - if they’ve gone to the trouble of turning up, surely they don’t deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Or, similarly, that the harness rides up in a very unpleasant and painful manner - surely that can’t be good, and I’ll bet it’s only me that voices this one (but they’ll all be thinking it…)

4. I end up upside down and slide out of the harness - is this even possible? I don’t know, but it’s wangled its way into my mind.

5. The aforementioned ropey-contraption gets stuck and I have to be lowered or rescued (a friend, who for the purposes of this Blog will remain nameless had a similar dream, but was rescued by several sexy men - why couldn’t I have that dream instead?)

6. I faint and have to be rescued.

7. Rope fails. Bridge, which has stood for years, fails.

8. Bad weather - sudden strong winds blow us, pendulum-like, under the bridge. Or worse, sudden strong winds blow us over the bridge (like the bad children used to do with the swings, so that we couldn’t play on them when we were little).

9. Half way down, I’ll need the loo (a recurring fear - remember the various radio interviews?)

10. My biggest fear (except for any involving rope/bridge failure or death/pain scenarios) is that I’ll be too ill to go ahead. Regardless of the precautions I take, the unpredictability that is ME/CFS means I never know for sure, what I will or won’t be able to do. Still, fingers crossed.