In 1999 we realised one of those dreams and moved to France. To read that it seems so simple, it has been anything but, however, that is another story. It was in France in 2002 when Ian went effectively blind in his left eye and after numerous tests and a stay in French hospital ended up with a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. I was so frightened and scared. As I write this it is 2010 and I can honestly say at times I feel sadder than I did the day Ian got his diagnosis. Once recovered from the initial shock, I felt there were so many things I/he/we could pursue to improve Ian’s illness and I went about looking for them. However, despite all my best efforts (and Ian's) the deals I have made with myself, God and anyone who would listen Ian’s health has continued to slip and slide.
From early on Ian and I made the decision that I would stay at home and raise the children supporting Ian in his job as a builder. This was despite my pre marriage protestations that I wanted a career! Like many couples we bumped along bringing up our children the best we could and reviving a flagging marriage from time to time. Some years it needed more revival than others but I can honestly say that there were times when I would be driving down a road and Ian would go in the opposite direction and my heart would flip. I would sit on the beach and reflect about my life and the direction it was heading and know that for all its warts - and at times there seemed to be many- being with Ian made me feel safe and protected. He was in all senses my provider, my knight in shining armour. You bet we argued and there were times I felt like the little wife at home, but whenever we went out and walked into a room together I felt whole. When Ian put his arm around me I felt a silencing of my core, a feeling of peace and belonging.
Having just one wage meant that as a family we went without frills. We couldn’t afford the play stations or Mario and the rest of the games that were very popular back then. I watched other Mums drive around in their “own” car, go abroad on holiday, decorate their homes how they wanted, buy clothes, and yes there were times when I felt hard done by. I knew though that we were young and by the time our children were in their 20’s we would be in our mid 40’s and the world would be ours to explore. The time the boys would be at home was limited and precious, “our” time would come. We spent many evenings talking about how we were going to spend those years. How we would move and live in France. About buying a yacht and sailing around the med. How we would travel to all those place we saw on the holiday programmes. Nashville Tennessee, Peru, Mexico, Australia. New Zealand, Caribbean. How Ian would go skiing whilst I supped hot wine and read a book, he would buy a motorbike and together we would explore Europe, go hang gliding, learn to fly, we had so much to do and looked forward to doing it.
Having just one wage meant that as a family we went without frills. We couldn’t afford the play stations or Mario and the rest of the games that were very popular back then. I watched other Mums drive around in their “own” car, go abroad on holiday, decorate their homes how they wanted, buy clothes, and yes there were times when I felt hard done by. I knew though that we were young and by the time our children were in their 20’s we would be in our mid 40’s and the world would be ours to explore. The time the boys would be at home was limited and precious, “our” time would come. We spent many evenings talking about how we were going to spend those years. How we would move and live in France. About buying a yacht and sailing around the med. How we would travel to all those place we saw on the holiday programmes. Nashville Tennessee, Peru, Mexico, Australia. New Zealand, Caribbean. How Ian would go skiing whilst I supped hot wine and read a book, he would buy a motorbike and together we would explore Europe, go hang gliding, learn to fly, we had so much to do and looked forward to doing it.
We married in 1983. Memories of that day are for the most part covered by photographic evidence but there are a few memories I have which were moments we shared - not that Ian remembers them but then that’s got nothing to do with his illness it’s more to do with being a man! I remember the way he squeezed my hand as we walked down the aisle, I remember Ian helping me lift enough of the skirts and petticoats of my frou-frou wedding dress so that I could go to the loo, I remember sitting on Bournemouth seafront sharing a kebab, reflecting with him on the day, whilst we waited for the guests to leave so that we could return to the hotel for the night. The biggest emotion I felt that day was one of being safe, protected. Knowing that somehow this man beside me would make everything alright and together we could conquer whatever came our way. That feeling has stayed with me most of the years, it’s not there as often now and that feeling I miss the most.
December 1984 saw the birth of our first son. Phillip George James Andrews - poor little soul got all those names as I really thought I would not have any more children, in fact I was adamant. In December 1986 we brought home Christopher Alan and in January 1988 Nicholas James arrived, another welcome surprise because as many know, and I had learnt from Phillip, nothing in life is more precious than new people even if their arrival isn’t planned.
December 1984 saw the birth of our first son. Phillip George James Andrews - poor little soul got all those names as I really thought I would not have any more children, in fact I was adamant. In December 1986 we brought home Christopher Alan and in January 1988 Nicholas James arrived, another welcome surprise because as many know, and I had learnt from Phillip, nothing in life is more precious than new people even if their arrival isn’t planned.
Living with Multiple Sclerosis..........when it is not yours.
"I decided to write and tell the world what it is like Living with Multiple Sclerosis …..when it's not yours. Hopefully raising some money in the process. I guess, as I don’t know, that some of what I feel is the same for those who are with partners who have been diagnosed with other chronic illness. For me, living with someone who has MS feels like a little death everyday. Thank you for reading. "
Ian and I the early years
Ian when everything worked !!
Our wedding day August 13th 1983
Our babies:
Phillip in the garden
then Christopher
and Nicholas
Phillip in the garden
then Christopher
and Nicholas
Our Boys: the early years
Sometimes I think if one more person asks me “and how is Ian?” then I shall scream. I know they mean well, but what do they want me to say? “he’s great thank you, he had a miraculous cure in the night” or would they prefer “he can’t see very well, is very wobbly on his legs, he can't walk very far, he has horrendous headaches that painkillers don’t touch, he can’t see to drive the car, is dependent on me to take him out, struggles to do the jobs I would like him to do around the house and is often very depressed” and then what about me? Or is that too selfish? Should I just be grateful people ask after him and by default know that they are enquiring after me? Or is it my fault they presume everything is OK with me when in reality I feel like this illness has wrapped its tentacles around my legs and is pulling me down with it? And it's not even mine! yet I feel the fallout from Ian’s multiple sclerosis impacts on my life as much as it does on his. Self-pity on my part? Selfishness? Maybe, but it is how I feel and my feelings are, I think, often overlooked.
Ian and I met at secondary school. I think it was my third day when I first saw him. I was 11 years old. Ian was 13. I was walking towards the home economics classroom and saw Ian with his mates. He was leaning against a dark blue metal post outside the metal work classroom. I don’t recall a lot from that initial meeting but when I reflect back I am filled with smiles. Like all young romances ours wasn’t destined for red roses at that time and whilst we continued to see each other out and about, our paths didn’t really cross until the day I walked into Murray’s the newsagent and literally bumped into Ian coming out of the door. That memory is as clear as yesterday, I can still feel the prickle of Ian’s brown coat as it brushed my face and I can still remember that heart stopping moment when I looked at his face. I was 16, Ian 18 and from that moment on we have never been apart. I truly believe that we were supposed to be together and over the past 32 years I have been fortunate enough to experience more moments when your heart pops up into your mouth and for that split second stops beating. -Don’t get me wrong there have also been the times when I’ve wanted to kill him but then that’s all part and parcel of the rich tapestry called marriage.
Growing up with each other has brought challenges, never more so than when we were young. Ian was out and about doing the motorbikes and nightclubs on his own. I was forbidden by my parents to go. Back then I wouldn’t have dared defy my parents but I do feel cheated that I never experienced Ian’s joy of motorbikes first hand, but then we had our wholes lives stretched out in front of us and there would be plenty of time to do all the things we wanted to do. Never did I imagine for a moment, at that time, my world was going to be turned on its head.
