Week 10 & 11 – Head of State, Helicopters & Hyperemesis by Helen

Nine months of 9k Week 10 & 11 – Location: Nonsuch Park & Nonsuch week like any other!

Despite the Autumnal weather, we are still 9k’ing come wind, rain or shine. Our week 10 walk around Nonsuch Park had all three which was weird. We also sort of crashed a wedding. 

Can't see them here but Wedding guests are loitering beyond the trees!


Did you know:  The name "Nonesuch" was given as, it was claimed, there was "none such place like it" in Europe.  In 1538 Henry VIII demolished the entire village of Cuddington to build Nonsuch Palace.  Six months after his only son was born ,building work started on the Palace which was to be a celebration of the power and the grandeur of the Tudor dynasty.  The palace was incomplete when Henry VIII died in 1547 and it was later pulled down around 1682–3 and the building materials sold off to pay gambling debts of the then owner Barbara, Countess of Castlemaine.  Bit of a disaster, really.

Week 11 was about as successful as Henry Tudor’s Palace.  No 9k to speak of and I have no excuse. Sometimes life just gets in the way of best laid plans.  So 2 x 9ks for week 12 then. Ouch.

Hmm, yes. In pictures: Life in the way of my plans...!

Nine months of HG Week 10 & 11 –  Head of State, Helicopters & Hyperemesis

My week 9 amnesia continues into week 10 as I continued to drift in and out of consciousness, moving only for tiny tentative sips of water and drugs to avoid triggering the nausea and a fit of retching.

Week 11 is slightly clearer for a few reasons:

1: I stopped taking metaclopromide as I was convinced it was making me drowsy and more nauseous. Turns out it was definitely contributing to the cloudy brain, hence the memory loss, and quite probably causing a little of the nausea rather than preventing it, as not long after…

2: I managed to eat FOUR slices of a small Dominoes pizza!  Well… in a 24 hour period.  The pizza in question lay in its little box on Rich’s side of the bed (husband relegated to the spare room in favour of pizza – good call) and I took one bite each time I stirred from my sickly slumber.

3: This was the week of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee and to mark the beginning of the celebrations she attended the Epsom Derby on 2nd June 2012.  We live 3 miles from Epsom Racecourse.  Now, whilst I am a big fan of the Queen and her family I can officially announce that I am not a fan of their helicopters.  I fully appreciate that the Queen requires security on her visits and occasionally appropriate security measures will call for the use of air patrols.  However, is it absolutely necessary to deploy three low-flying helicopters circling systematically over a 1 mile squared area of suburban Surrey!?  As I lay on my death bed I observed that roughly every two minutes a single helicopter would fly directly over my house.  Although - and I couldn’t and still can’t work out how or why this happened - in a twist of pure evil, every 6 minutes or so two helicopters would simultaneously be travelling over my head.  Helicopters are noisy.  Helicopters that fly slowly and low to the ground are even louder.  Each advancing helicopter’s ‘whop-whop-whop’ boom from the blades triggered an almighty surge of nausea, relieved by its inevitable departure, only to be replaced moments later by the next torturous fly-by.  This perpetual little dance lasted for most of the day.  I wanted to shoot myself in the ears.

Similar delights this week included a quaint little Jubilee Street Party for our lovely little cul de sac… it took place directly below my bedroom window.  It rained and I was secretly thrilled that if I couldn’t enjoy a Street Party then nobody else was going to either.  Bitter?  Unashamedly so.

One thing I almost managed to enjoy was the Jubilee Concert on TV.  Disappointed that I didn’t make it out of bed and downstairs in time to catch Robbie William’s opening number, I certainly enjoyed smirking at Lenny Henry’s awkward stand-up, staring in disbelief as Grace Jones hula-hooped her way through a song, mocking Will.I.Am lurking uncomfortably behind Stevie Wonder and berating Paul McCartney for destroying the Beatles’ back catalogue in one distressing set.  Still, at least I got to see Robbie’s second appearance and even sing along without retching – ta daaaa!

Got to find the silver lining somewhere even if it means celebrating just 3 minutes and 25 seconds of activity without a sicky outcome!