Wonderful tonight

Your friend has a long-term medical condition. You haven’t seen them for a while, and when you do, you notice changes – for better or worse. Do you speak up?  I say “Yes, please do!”

I’m fortunate to have a little forest within walking distance of my house. On the map it looks like the head of a benevolent green Labrador keeping an eye on our town.

There are red squirrels, deer and abundant birdsong. At the top there is a little pointy monument called the Beacon and a fantastic view out over the fells.

One day last summer as I was walking down from the top, I met a couple coming up. I’d seen them before to say hello to but didn’t know them by name. One of them said to me “You’re looking well!”

I looked at her, puzzled.

“Do you remember a time when I didn’t look well? When I looked like this?”

I hunched up into my best impression of Julie Walters delivering two soups.

“Oh yes, you used to be much more hunched up, and slower.”

“Well, I have Parkinson’s. But as you can see, exercise is my best medicine. And it’s free.”

“I have multiple sclerosis, and I believe that, too.”

I thanked her for the compliment and went away with an extra spring in my step. That really made my day – that strangers were looking out for me and interested in my welfare. Jacqui and Nick are no longer strangers and we quite often bump into each other chat at a sensible social distance in the forest. I looked her up and found that not only was she taking daily exercise in the forest – she had swum ten kilometres for to raise funds for MS charities. Ten kilometres! that is 200 lengths of an Olympic size swimming pool. Awesome!

Shubtle changezh

Other friends have been helpful, too. During lockdown, when we have seen each other less often, they have remarked on changes that Robin and I find imperceptible. He and I only see things happen from day to day, not month to month. Last October, I felt as if my tongue was tripping over my own teeth. I sounded drunk even at 10 in the morning. This is not good when you have lots of friends called Sally, Steve, Simon and Sarah.

I asked my friend Liz, “Doezh my voish shound shlurry to you, Lizh?”   “Not that I’ve noticed,” she replied politely. But later in the conversation, as my voice tired, she said, “Oh now I can hear it – you sound as if you have been to the dentist and got a numb gum.”

Fast forward to March. New medication and tongue twister exercises have helped. As has Liz, by noticing – and mentioning – that the shlurry bits have gone.

You look nice

In my working life I never had any requirement to look smart. When I worked for Running magazine in the 80s, the uniform of choice was running vest and shorts and the meetings were in the open air, on the move. When I did need to make the effort, I’d go in and people would say “You look nice today!” to which my standard sarcastic response was “So you’re saying I looked ***** yesterday ?!” I’m sorry about this. I should just have said “Thank you!”.

Now, when friends ask me how I am, I don’t say “I’m fine, thanks!” or “I’ve had a rubbish day.” I’ll ask them “How do I look?” or “How do I sound?” and I know I’ll get an honest answer. Then I’ll try and steer round to talking about them, because it isn’t just about me.

My friends know to tell me if they notice any changes, and I appreciate the feedback. If you spot an improvement, you will delight me by saying so. Equally, if you notice something has changed for the worse, I want to know so that I can do something about it.

Play > Wonderful Tonight > Eric Clapton

This song is all about seeking reassurance. Eric Clapton’s muse for it was Pattie Boyd, who previously inspired George Harrison’s Something in the way she moves. If I had been cherished by two of the world’s finest guitarists, I’d think I was getting something right, wouldn’t you? She does take the time to ask him if he is all right, too.

“How are you?” is a two-way conversation.  Tell it like it is.