Wednesday 28 February 2018

Visual Spaces

By Roiben

I write this, looking back over a lifetime of not fitting into boxes. I have a severe hearing loss. I am Type 1 Diabetic. I have a mental illness. I am bisexual. I am many things that do not fit the “norm”.

Today though, I want to talk about the thing I probably spend the least time talking about. I am visually impaired. I had cataracts as a baby, which permanently damaged my vision. I am blind in my left eye. It notices change in light and movement — but it can’t tell what is moving. My right eye has some damage to the cones and rods which mean I find it hard to distinguish between certain colours and shades. I also have Astigmatism and, as the right eye is doing all the grunt work, it can get tired easily. I also, thanks to years of Diabetes, have Stage 1 Retinopathy.

Ultimately, this means I lack stereoscopic vision — I am not able to judge distance or speed of objects and have no depth perception. I am one of those people who need markers on steps and curbs to get around in my day to day life.

What does this have to do with boxes, I hear you ask. Well, although I am visually impaired, I am classed as having too much vision in my right eye to be legally classed as Partially Sighted. The regulations and checks require a significant loss of vision in both eyes to count. So, despite being fairly severely visually impaired in lay-man’s terms, I do not fit into the legal box-ticking exercise that could enable me to get more assistance.

According to the Royal National Institute of Blind People (RNIB), the UK’s leading charity supporting blind and partially sighted people, there are over 200 eye conditions — and there are many, many people, like me, who do not fit the boxes. As is the case with many such boxes, there are many people falling between the gaps, who perhaps actually need the help the box checking would provide. It is perhaps more well known in the case of Mental Health, where someone can literally be told they are too ill, or too chronic to get the help they so desperately need. In this instance, I wonder how many of those people who do not fit the regulatory definitions and limitations could actually really, really do with the help?

As things stand, my vision in my right eye is deteriorating. The Astigmatism is getting worse and I have had to change my glasses prescription to match. I have to keep a close watch on my blood sugars as well, because that affects my retinopathy — which is always at a risk of getting worse.

Maybe one day, I will fit into that box. Maybe I never will. Either is okay. I am me, and I have grown up with all these things and in doing so have put in place my own coping mechanisms. I learn routes and places. I am a creature of habit and often put things in the same places, or walk the same route from A to B. I know how many steps there are on certain staircases and with practice can walk the ones I know with ease. I have learnt to keep a clear route between my bed and the door, kitchen and toilet.

The main problems come when there is a change. A diversion. Shoes left out in my “path” or a chair moved. When walking unknown places, or a different route, I tend to slow down, to take more notice and be more cautious. I trace my route along walls and banisters and follow any signs or maps I can find. Then I remember it, in case I have to take the same route again.

As with all my disabilities, I have adapted and learnt ways “around” it in order to continue living life the best I can. I just worry for those who perhaps have not yet learned adaptations, or who struggle in their own ways and could do with getting more help.


About the Author

You can find Roiben on Twitter (@roiben).


Wednesday 21 February 2018

Our Mexican Adventure, Part Five: It’s What We Do

I give myself permission to fully experience whatever comes up during this trip, knowing I am safe.—Martin Baker

Fran has been in Mexico for a month, for dental treatment. I kept a journal throughout the trip, and compiled my day-by-day notes into a series of weekly blog posts.

This fifth post covers Fran’s final week in the town of Ajijic in the State of Jalisco, on the north shore of Lake Chapala.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Our Mexican Adventure, Part Five: It’s What We Do

Wednesday, February 14, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

Yesterday (Tuesday) was Shrove Tuesday here in the UK, and Mardi Gras Carnival in Mexico. Fran went out in Ajijic and found a great spot to watch the parade and festivities. She talked with local folk, including the children of one family who were sitting close by.

It wasn’t a situation Fran feels comfortable in (“I hate parades. I hate crowds. But this is as close as I’ll get to Mardi Gras.”) but she wanted the experience. And it certainly was an experience! People, colour, noise—and lots of flour!

“Me and my stuff are covered. Dammit. How can anyone think this is fun? It’s in my phone, hair, purse, shoes, jacket, etc. But I made some nice connections. I’m finally using my iTranslate app to talk to people!”

We caught up properly back at her apartment, after she’d had a (hot!) shower and washed out all the flour. We were on for a couple of hours and were able to properly catch up on what’s been going on for each of us. We sat on the veranda, shared a beer, and took in the evening. I also got to meet Felix and Don who own the place. I really loved Felix’s NYC shirt! Seeing and hearing how Fran interacts with the people around her, especially those she connects well with, helps me “place” her better in her environment and get a better handle on how she is doing. It’s also a lot of fun for me!

Thursday, February 15, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

We didn’t get to have any Skype calls yesterday (Wednesday). I was really busy at work and Fran had a full day too. After her massage session, she went with a friend to the hot springs.

“Just finished hot tubs:

I can’t wait to hear about it all!

Friday, February 16, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

Fran went for what was supposed to be her final dental appointment yesterday (Thursday) but it turns out they couldn’t do the crowns, so she will go back on Saturday. Other than that, it went well.

We had two or three short calls in the evening. There were a few technical difficulties, but we stayed calm and tried again later. I was able to catch Fran up on some of what has been going on for me here. She isn’t allowed solid food now until her crowns are done. She invited me to join her. So today (Friday), I’ll not have any solid food until dinner this evening.

Other than that, I followed up on the new blogging opportunity I mentioned the other day. It sounds really exciting if it comes off. I also asked Laura Marchildon who runs the Our Bipolar Family website if she would like to review our book. (Thanks, Laura!) It feels good, in the midst of other stuff that is going on for me right now, to be progressing things in our mental health work. I took some me-time too, including time away from the PC. I also did a Loving Kindness meditation for the first time in ages. It helped, on a number of levels.

Saturday, February 17, 2018, 10:30 a.m. UK time

I’m sitting at a corner table in Porter’s café in Tynemouth, beneath a big poster of the US flag. I’m maintaining my partial fast in support of Fran, which is a real pity because they have some amazing cakes and tray-bakes here, not to mention porridge! On the other hand, my weight dropped 2 lbs yesterday after my first day of partial fasting, so that’s something!

Fran struggled quite a bit yesterday with not being able to eat. She made up for it with plenty of liquids, including a margarita in the afternoon and a large glass of red wine when we met on Skype in the evening. It’s fair to say she was a bit tiddly! She’d had a grand day out, though, visiting the island fort of Mezcala on Lake Chapala. She posted a great photo on Facebook from the fort. She was really sleepy from her day out and drinking on an otherwise empty stomach. After talking for a little while she went for a lie down and fell asleep to me reading from Outlander.

We may or may not get to have a call tonight (Saturday night) but if not, last evening’s call was a great way to round out our shared trip to Mexico. We’ve stayed in touch well, and if there have been times when I’ve got irritable and grumpy (which there have!) or Fran has (ditto!) then we have moved through them easily.

Last night Fran said she hoped I wasn’t cross she’d been less present for me, with being away. It’s true that I’ve had stuff going on, and had Fran been at home I probably would have explored it with her more than I’ve been able to. But she has been there for me—more than on previous trips in fact—and has been very supportive. And I’ve been blessed to find caring support in other places. (You know who you are. Thank you.)

I’ve used my Wellness Plan (today’s trip to Tynemouth and the coast is a part of my self-care strategy) and moved through things as they have come up. I am proud of how Fran and I have each handled things.

Sunday, February 18, 2018, 10:25 a.m. UK time

I really enjoyed my day at the coast yesterday (Saturday). It gave me space to think—and not think. A pause in the pace and intensity of this past week or so. Fran’s dental work—her four crowns—went well. (“Done. I’ve been crowned!”) Afterwards, she met up with a friend for a meal—filet mignon and mashed potatoes—at Los Telares.

I wasn’t at all sure we would get to talk, but she called me as she walked back to the apartment from the restaurant. Voice only, but it was good to hear in person how she was feeling after the dental work, and at the end of her time in Ajijic. I also got the—now familiar to me—sounds of the town. Kids playing in the street. Snatches of Spanish from people as we passed by. And the dreadfully busy street Fran has christened “Butchers’ Boulevard.” I was genuinely relieved to make it safely across! I walked Fran back to the apartment, then said goodnight. It was close to one in the morning here in the UK, 7 p.m. in Mexico.

Today Fran will finish packing. She has a ride booked from Ajijic to the airport at Guadalajara. Then three flights and a bus ride home. Houston. Chicago. Boston. Portland. I will keep an eye on things for any delays or other changes. Hopefully it will be more straightforward than it was on the way out. As I posted on Fran’s Facebook wall: “Safe and sure on your journey home!”

Monday, February 19, 2018, 7:35 a.m. UK time

Well, as the changes to the flights/times in my journal show, things didn’t exactly go according to plan yesterday (Sunday)!

The flight from Guadalajara to Houston went fine, but there were delays with the flight to Chicago which threatened her final connection. So… Plan B! Fran rearranged her tickets so she would overnight at the airport and catch an early direct flight to Boston. I updated the flights in my calendar, and the details I’d stored in my United Airways and Flight Hero apps so I could keep an eye on any delays. We checked to see if her bus ticket from Boston to Portland would still be valid (it would). It looked workable, apart from the fourteen or so hours Fran would have to spend at the airport. (“You can’t drink beer all night!” “I won’t!”)

Then Fran saw there was a better way. Plan C! More rearrangements and updates, but there was a flight from Houston to Newark within the hour, arriving just after midnight local time. That’s where she is now. Her final flight, to Boston, is scheduled for 6 a.m. her time (my 11 a.m., we are back to five hours apart again—yay!) So, still quite a wait for her, but the end is in sight.

Traveling long distances like this is mentally and physically brutal, but once she is home later today there’s not a lot she needs to do for at least a couple of days. R&R is definitely in order!

Tuesday, February 20, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

I wrote yesterday (Monday) morning that travel can be brutal for Fran, physically and mentally, and this journey home from Mexico has certainly been that. She caught her final flight from Newark to Boston fine, but it was a scramble to make her bus connection.

”Welcome to Boston, Fran!”

”On plane. Stopped on runway. Hope we move fast. I really really want to get that bus but we’re not moving. God damn. I am so sick of everything going wrong for me. I won’t make it.”

”It was always going to be close, but I did think we would make the bus.”

”Those two hours until the next bus are gonna kill me.”

”It might be delayed departing. When you do get off, you need exit door B115. The bus stop is right outside.”

We did make the bus, just, but Fran had no time to look for her luggage. It turned out her suitcase was in Chicago anyway. Fran arranged for it to be sent on. I think it was delivered to her late evening. The two hour journey passed without incident (“Yay Maine. The bus was comfortable.”) and a friend met Fran and drove her back to her apartment, stopping off for groceries on the way. Fran was finally home.

I was expecting exhaustion but Fran also had bad neck pain, a headache and nausea which progressed to vomiting. I encouraged her to stay hydrated but she could keep nothing down.

”I’m wasted. My head is pounding. My neck is killing me. When will it stop.”

”Did you get any sleep at all, overnight or today?”

”Spotty. I won’t Skype at 2. Maybe 6 for a little bit.”

”That’s fine, Fran. You in bed?”

”On couch.”

”Bed might be better for your back/neck.”

Twenty minutes later: “I’m in bed.” We Skyped at 6 p.m. (my 11 p.m.) but not for long. I left her to rest, but we chatted on and off for a couple of hours.

”I feel so sick I’m crying. Headache. Neck ache. Shivering. Nauseous.”

”I didn’t realise it was this bad. Just so I’m sure, you did take your regular meds yesterday/today with all the traveling?”


”Thanks. You’re doing the right things. Do we need to think about seeing if someone can come sit with you?”

”Hold my hair.”

”Holding it back”

”I’m so glad I am home dealing with this rather than traveling.”

”Omg yes. This would have been a nightmare overnight at the airport.”

It was getting late.

”I’m going to bed. How are you feeling now? Still being sick?”

”A little better. I hope to sleep now.”

There were no further messages overnight so, fingers crossed, Fran is sleeping. She doesn’t need to be up early, or leave the apartment today. Extreme self-care. Back to basics. Pick up gently with things over the next few days. We will keep a watchful eye on her state of being as she emerges from this crash fatigue.

There will be time enough to look back over the past four weeks in Mexico. Unpack. Sort through photos. Engage, gradually, with friends both at home and online.

And, no doubt, there will be other trips to think about, though we don’t have any planned for this year. Travel is in Fran’s bones, and I will support her as best I can. I will be here for her, as she is here for me.

It’s what we do.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five


Wednesday 14 February 2018

Our Mexican Adventure, Part Four: Far in Miles, Close in Heart and Care

I give myself permission to fully experience whatever comes up during this trip, knowing I am safe.—Martin Baker

Fran is in Mexico right now for dental treatment. I am keeping a journal throughout the trip, and compiling my day-by-day notes into a series of weekly blog posts.

This post covers Fran’s third week in the town of Ajijic in the State of Jalisco, on the north shore of Lake Chapala.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Our Mexican Adventure, Part Four: Far in Miles, Close in Heart and Care

Wednesday, February 7, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

Fran still has a bandaid across her nose from the fall she took the other day, but her other injuries seem much healed. Mood-wise, she also appears less drained/down, which bodes well for today, when she has her first dental appointment. Fingers crossed that goes smoothly.

We had two calls yesterday (Tuesday). The first was sitting on a bench down by the lake; the second as she packed for her move to the new apartment where she will stay for the remainder of the trip. A friend helped her move. There was a message for me when I woke this morning to let me know she got there fine.

Thursday, February 8, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

The first day of Fran’s dental work went well yesterday (Wednesday), with fillings to one side of her mouth. The other side will be done on Monday. The periodontal (gum) work will be today (Thursday).

I was surprised Fran was able to talk and eat more or less normally afterwards. We met for a while when she was chilling out in a café after the procedure, and later had a lovely two hour call, back at her new apartment.

Fran took me on a tour of the place but mostly we sat and talked. It was the best call we’ve here and the conversation ranged widely. I held space for Fran to share her stuff, and I got to share mine. I felt listened to, valued, and safe.

Friday, February 9, 2018, 7:35 a.m. UK time

Fran had a very full day yesterday (Thursday) with her periodontal (gum) surgery appointment at eleven her time. We chatted a little beforehand when she went for coffee, and afterwards as she went off to find the pharmacy to get her meds. That was a twenty-five minute walk along the very busy main road. I helped her find an alternative route that wouldn’t be quite so busy.

The surgery itself went well, and she didn’t seem in too much pain or discomfort when we met again later back at the apartment. She wasn’t up for doing too much of the talking, and I got to share some of the details from my day. That included the Mental Health First Aid course at work next month which my lovely boss Judith is keen I should attend. I’d love to, if there are places available.

While we were on our call, there was big thunderstorm, which Fran LOVED! I couldn’t see the flashes of lightning but I could tell them from Fran’s reaction, and soon learned to pause whatever we were talking about. I felt a strong flash of frustration when Fran told me she needed to stop our conversation so she could experience the present (Mexico) moment to the full, but we handled it well.

She was clear about her needs, and my frustration at being “set aside” in favour of a thunderstorm passed as easily as the storm itself eventually did. And I got to experience it too—the sounds of thunder and rain, and Fran’s delighted, awestruck response. Moments like this are what friendship is about.

Saturday, February 10, 2018, 10:15 a.m. UK time

Yesterday (Friday) was a quiet day for Fran in Ajijic, and a busy day for me in the office here in Newcastle! We had a good chat early evening when Fran was out at a restaurant. Our conversation is summarised by something she posted up on Facebook.

Since I have been in Mexico I have taken most of my meals on my own. The beauty of this is that I can truly take in the Mexican food, decorations, and music, noticing what would not be noticed if I had company, and connecting with the servers to the point where they know my name. And I get to share my experiences with Marty, who is always with me even though he is across the sea. It’s great to have a bestest friend!

We looked up how far apart we are geographically. It hadn’t occurred to me that it’s so much more than the usual 3,000 miles, It came back as 8,878 km, which is 5,515 miles! Fran posted that on Facebook too. A friend of ours, Judy, commented: “Interesting! Far in miles, close in heart and care.” That meant a lot because not everyone gets it about distance friendships.

Fran was really tired by the time we got together later, but we had an hour or so on Skype. I read from Outlander, and we talked about suicidality.

Sunday, February 11, 2018, 1:15 p.m. UK time

We had another good video call yesterday (Saturday) afternoon, when I was at the Costa coffee shop at Blackwell’s Books in town. We talked about how she’s been feeling during this trip and about life generally. We continued the theme when we met in the evening, sat together on a bench at the lake side. Fran pointed out a heron. They must be common here because she’s mentioned them a few times. There was also one on one of the murals she showed me the other day.

Fran’s mood has definitely dropped. Depression? Perhaps, although it seems more a natural response to her feelings and thoughts about the trip, and whether she will be up to major travel like this in the future. Is that dream up for her? In part, Mexico was to see how she’d handle a trip like this on her own. I feel she’s done remarkably well, but Fran doesn’t see it that way.

There are things she might do and places she might go, if she had more confidence, or someone to do things with. The bus ride experience put her off trying again. Her fall shook her more than I realised at the time. Typically, I focused more on the physical side of things—the cuts and scrapes—and didn’t factor in how much it shook her self-confidence. That oh so busy main street is an issue too, because of the actual danger involved in crossing it, but also because of the impulses it engenders.

Later, Fran showed me a listing of local events that are on this coming week. Our final week in Mexico. I’m not sure if she’ll want to take any of those up. I hope so. But she did go out with a friend for dinner last night (Saturday night). She just messaged me, “Had a nice time and a nice dinner last night. Great conversations. Thought provoking.”

I’m so glad! Awkwardness and uncertainty in relationships disconcert her and leave her wondering if it’s her fault. Congenial company is exactly what she needs: to connect with people and feel valued and welcome. Isn’t that what we all want?

Monday, February 12, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

On our call early evening yesterday (Sunday) I was delighted to hear what a great time Fran had had the previous evening. The good conversation, and the opportunity to just be herself, seems to have made a big difference. She told me “Generally I think I have fragile self worth.” Well, things like this help reset that perception. Later, she was invited to a local Mexican lady’s 21st birthday party. I’ve not heard yet how that went but I’m hoping and expecting she had a good time.

Later today, she will be back at the dentist for her final work, apart from a final check-up appointment on Thursday.

I spent my Sunday evening working on the new piece for the STOP Suicide website (it takes me so long to write anything!) and this week’s Mexico blog, which I will start putting together tonight.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018, 7:30 a.m. UK time

I didn’t get to see Fran yesterday (Monday) but we did chat on and off through the day. Amongst other things, we touched on her other friendships and mine: those that work and those that don’t so well.

“Why do I keep getting hung up on the people and relationships where it’s hard, or where things break down? It’s okay, Fran, I’m just journaling my thoughts here.”

“I always do this too.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that. The parallels between us and our hang-ups.”

“I’m always trying to win people over. It’s part of my self esteem project.”

“I never feel I live up to other people’s expectations of me. I think I try too hard. Or maybe people expect too much. The relationships that work for me are where I feel at ease to say my stuff, and the other person does too. Where I am not afraid to speak up.”

Fran’s dental work went well, although she needs one further procedure (“I need a crown! My first!”) which will be done on Thursday. She also had a hearing test and has arranged a massage session for tomorrow, so she’s clearly decided to make the most of her final week in Mexico.

In the evening I focused on my writing. I got the Mexico blog ready to go up, apart from this entry I am writing now which I will type up tonight. I also completed—bar final edits and proof-reading—my piece for the STOP Suicide website.

Usually, I am keen for Fran to get back from her trips, but I’d be happy to stay here a bit longer.

“I’m going to miss Ajijic, Fran.”
“Me too.”

There are still five days left: plenty of time for lots to happen. That’s the thing, traveling with Fran, you never quite know what is around the corner. It’s never boring!

Continues here.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five


Wednesday 7 February 2018

Our Mexican Adventure, Part Three: “Did We Just Buy a Condo?”

I give myself permission to fully experience whatever comes up during this trip, knowing I am safe.—Martin Baker

Fran is in Mexico right now for dental treatment. I am keeping a journal throughout the trip, and compiling my day-by-day notes into a series of weekly blog posts.

This post covers Fran’s second week in the town of Ajijic in the State of Jalisco, on the north shore of Lake Chapala.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Our Mexican Adventure, Part Three: “Did We Just Buy a Condo?”

Wednesday, January 31, 7:30 a.m. UK time

Fran and I had a brilliant Skype video call yesterday (Tuesday) at a café called Black and White in the Plaza. Fran propped her phone up on the table so I could see what was going on while we talked. It wasn’t too busy and no one took the slightest notice. We were careful not to have the volume up too high.

After a while, Fran saw someone she knew and called her over: a lovely lady called Paula from “the other Portland” (the one in Oregon!) The three of us nattered away as though we’d all known each other for years. Paula seemed amused and delighted that I felt so fully present with them there.

Fran asked Paula about the “Super Blue Blood Moon” happening today (Wednesday), but the 6 a.m. meet up at the lakeside was just too early for Fran to contemplate! They plan to meet up on Thursday, though, to visit the hot springs which are a short bus ride away.

Thursday, February 1, 7:25 a.m. UK time

Fran visited the Black and White café again yesterday (Wednesday). She is great at connecting with new people she meets on vacation (“I do better with strangers than friends.”) Later, she messaged me: “Hanging out with friends,” and had a “deep deep talk” with one lady. We managed a short video call as I walked to the Metro station for the train after work. It was fun to show Fran the route I walk every day.

My evening was busy and satisfying. I watched a TV programme about the influence of the moon on life on earth (likely scheduled because of the Super Moon thing) and chatted online with a couple of friends. Later, I found some great music tracks on YouTube and made a decent start on a new piece of writing; about our book, suicide and suicidal thinking. It was about one in the morning when I went to bed.

The final message of the day from Fran: “Pizza! I’ve tried to come here for days! Finally it’s open!”

Friday, February 2, 7:25 a.m. UK time

Fran went to the hot springs at Hotel Balneario yesterday (Thursday). It didn’t exactly go to plan.

She headed out to catch the bus, but despite asking several people if she was in the right place none of the buses stopped for her. She got more and more frustrated and cross with herself for not having walked to meet her friends and travel with them. (“I did plan it with them but nothing worked except them getting there and me not.”)

I suggested she tried Uber but she didn’t want to do that. In the end she messaged one of her friends who told her she needed to walk about a mile along the road if she wanted to catch the bus. She headed off. A little later:

“On stupid bus.”
“Put stupid Glympse on so I can see where you are. Do we know where we are going?”

Fran showed me the leaflet. I located the place on Google maps and sent her screenshots to show where she needed to be, whilst simultaneously tracking her on Glympse. A nice lady on the bus helped by telling Fran where to get off. Finally she was there, and met up with her friends. She had a good time, and got a ride home, just missing a torrential downpour.

We had a thirty minute call when she got back. She was cold, hungry, and grumpy.

“Shivering under the covers. I hope I don’t get sick.”
“Any headaches today?”
“No. Just shivering.”

She seemed pretty low: understandable after the day she’d had. It took a while for her to fully engage with me, but after a bit we settled into our usual way of being with each other, and talked more readily. She is enjoying making new friends. She has invitations to dinner today (Friday) and tomorrow (Saturday). After we finished our call and she’d rested a while she headed out again, this time to a friend’s birthday celebration—“with cake!”

Thursday was #TimeToTalkDay here in the UK and I wore my Time to Change tshirt into work. I was back on Facebook after my little break, and had a good conversation on one of my posts about the value (or otherwise) of awareness events like this.

At work, I had three mental health related conversations. That’s not at all unusual, actually: testament partly to the “looking out for each other” ethos my boss Judith engenders in her team.

Friday, 10:30 p.m. UK time

Fran’s been busy today (Friday), including a tour round some local properties with a realtor (estate agent) which she arranged the other day. I messaged her when she got back.

“Did we just buy a condo?”
“Nope, but she was nice.”

Right now, she’s at Isabella’s restaurant meeting friends for dinner. I doubt we will have any calls until tomorrow. I could have done with a natter, but it’s okay. My day has been full—and heavy. I have been wrestling with one long-term friendship for a while and it kind of came to a head today. One in which I have struggled to accept the reality that I am not meeting my friend’s support needs, and our relationship is not meeting my needs either. Not a failure, but a reminder that caring for someone isn’t always enough, and that we need to keep an eye on our own well-being as well as the other person’s.

On a more positive note, I received a lovely message from a lady thanking me and Fran for writing our book, which she was ordering to help her friend better support her. And then, tonight, a major new opportunity in the mental health arena presented itself (thanks, Julie!)

Saturday, February 3, 6 p.m. UK time

I have been out most of today (Saturday) with my family for my son’s Michael’s birthday meal. Mike is a fantasy novelist, blogger, and cartographer. You can find him on Twitter, Facebook, and on his blog.

Fran has also been out, first for brunch and now visiting some gardens. She posted up a gorgeous sunset photo last night from down by the lake. Unfortunately, things didn’t go so well as she made her way home.

“Please don’t worry. I fell on my face walking home last night. I sent a piccie. I should have stuck with my beers. I had margaritas and egg nog. I don’t remember falling on my face but I do remember someone watching over me. The good thing is, I broke no teeth or leg or eye.”

The photo showed some dried blood, minor cuts and scrapes on her nose and upper lip. I’m hoping it won’t look too bad once she has cleaned herself up. But it will be sore and I know she will be concerned that she let it happen. The roads are pretty uneven and cobbled. That might be how it happened, although if she had been drinking too much that likely contributed too.

“Steve said it was the margaritas, and now I have my margarita story.”
“Yeah—I was wondering if I’d have anything interesting for this week’s blog…”

I just have to trust that she’s okay.

“My friends are concerned about me.”
“I am too, Fran.”
“I know.”

We may not get to have a call or even chat much more today, as she is invited to dinner later with some other friends. There are times when the miles between us matter very little. And there are times like this.

Sunday, February 4, 1:10 p.m. UK time

Fran rested in the afternoon yesterday (Saturday) after her trip out for brunch/gardens. We got to catch up on chat later, before she went out for dinner with her friend Helen.

She is planning a resting day today (Sunday), and wants to work on her photos and finances. She plans to watch tonight’s Super Bowl if possible. I found an iPhone app (Televista Deportes) which might work, if she decides not to go out anywhere to see it. We’ll see. I’m hoping we will connect for a call at some point.

She sent another selfie: she has a cut to her upper lip and a bandaid across the bridge of her nose, but she managed a smile and I don’t think there will be too much bruising, nor a black eye.

“I’ve had more things happen here in the last 2 weeks than I’ve had in the past year.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Probably shouldn’t move here.”

Monday, February 5, 7:30 p.m. UK time

I enjoyed yesterday (Sunday). I cooked lunch for my wife and son, went out for coffee and a few groceries, and spent the afternoon watching Columbo. I also chatted online a bit with a couple of friends. It’s good to have people you feel comfortable and safe with, to share whatever might be going on for you without being judged.

I feel fully “caught up” again with Fran. We had a couple of voice calls through the day. We did a bit of “work”—we selected ten of her photos from the past week, emailed them out to her “postcard from Mexico” mailing list, and also posted them on Facebook.

Best of all, we watched the Super Bowl! Fran hadn’t wanted to go out anywhere and there wasn’t a TV available to watch it on in the apartment.

After exploring a few options we found the best way was for me to have the game playing on my PC on the BBC Sport website. I then shared my screen with Fran via Skype. It meant we could be together on webcam and watch/hear the game at the same time.

The picture was a bit “watercolour-y” at Fran’s end. I pointed out it was probably easier to watch than in previous years, when Fran shared the Super Bowl experience with me by pointing her webcam across her apartment at her tiny TV!

Tuesday, February 6, 7:30 p.m. UK time

I focused my energies yesterday (Monday) on my writing and blogging, and replied to a very exciting email regarding a new opportunity in the mental health arena.

Fran was really tired when we met on Skype last night (early evening for her). She is allowed to be tired of course, but it felt more than that. When I notice something that could potentially be more than it seems, I bring it into the open. Sometimes Fran will want to explore it, sometimes not. Last night, not.

“I know you’re really tired, Fran, but you also seem—flat, maybe?”
“I am flat.”

Instead, we talked about what's coming up in the next few days and I read more from Outlander, the novel we are reading together. After our call, Fran had an invitation to watch a movie with friends, but decided to stay in and rest until bed time.

We’re just over half-way through this trip. Later today (Tuesday) Fran will move from this apartment to another one nearby, where she will stay for the remainder of the trip.Tomorrow she has her first appointment at Dental Express, which is what started all this in the first place.

It’s been quite an experience so far. Full. Exciting. Moving. Challenging. Painful—especially for Fran’s nose. I can’t wait to find out what happens next!

Continues here.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five