Catherine Drea: Hidden in plain sight

It’s been a funny old week. As I write this I am tied up to one of those blood pressure monitors. Every 30 minutes it goes off, does its thing and sends a reading to some virtual calculator. I should know by the end of the day if yet another bit of me is going downhill.

All through last night it cosied up to me, squeezed my arm and took a measurement on the hour. So that’s probably the reason why I woke up so early and turned on my phone expecting to see the current state of the world.

14 messages. The Sisters WhatsApp group was in a frenzy.

Here posted on Instagram was a young lad driving around County Limerick, where all the signs for Aughanish Alumina were in Russian! Did you know, says sister number 4, that this factory is owned and controlled by Russia. Well I did not.

For two hours we went back and forth about the unfolding story that was hiding in plain sight and apparently known to all and sundry. Between ranting about the pollution, the exportation every month of 14 ships to Russia, the possible use of that exported material in arms manufacture against Ukraine, we ended up in the mire of a very complex global economic system.

I thought, says I, that we had enough bad news to deal with in this crazy world but to think that Ireland is possibly supporting Russia to build their arsenal is mind blowing.

Meanwhile all I could think was that the blood pressure monitor was going to record some very high readings between the ranting, the going down rabbit holes and the delicious strong coffee that was going in at a rate of knots.

My sisters live all over the place and the daily chats keep us all up to date. Usually the subject matter is more mundane. What Maeve Binchy described as The Organ Recital is the regular check in on everyone’s health and happiness. As we all get older of course there are challenges but it is always the first port of call if there is a medical situation so that Nurse Drea (sister number 2) will immediately get on the job and the younger generation medics can be called on for back up if necessary.

Then the family news is next on the agenda. Who is doing what, when and where. It could be holiday photos, cute videos of grandchildren all growing up so fast, or special events, birthdays, outings, gatherings.

And finally there is everything else; the state of the world, politics, clothes, art, animals, gardens, butterflies. You name it, we chat about it.

Without these digital platforms where would we be? Certainly not in each other’s lives in the easy way that we can be through our daily chats online. This morning our chats connected us Irish sisters; from the South East to a cottage in the West of Ireland, from a big city in Scandinavia to a village in Southern Portugal. It doesn’t matter any more where we are, we can stay close and up to date.

But as I said it was a funny old week.

Sister number 3 suggests sharing some good news. OK! I’ll start. All the talent and creativity amongst the young and old? How’s that? All the volunteers giving their time to other people or to amazing causes? How’s that? Or the conservationists and nature lovers doing every small thing to try to heal the planet? How’s that?

It’s the small things. Having a giggle with the nurse who fitted this blood pressure yoke. Telling her about another nurse who used to get me to look at the beautiful trees, breathe and think happy thoughts. Miraculously my blood pressure would always settle down… Or the woman on the bench at the Prom who told me about living in Tramore for the last 50 years but always being a blow-in. 

“Do you remember the old dump? Sure I walk on that every day now. Funny old thing progress, isn’t it!” 

For some reason today it’s also the bossa nova music of Tom Jobim, the great Brazilian composer, and anything that has lads in guitars in the style of say Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin. Or without doubt a photo of my granddaughter in her happy place at the local library.

It’s time to revisit the nurse and get the blood pressure news. Another soul tied to a monitor is waiting and we immediately share our stories and our dread. The nurse opens the graph and low and behold I almost hug her or do a happy dance because clearly my results show that this time I’m grand after all. It’s called “white coat syndrome” and I seem to have it in spades. Doctors, dentists, hairdressers…no matter which, the blood pressure goes through the roof!

Then I see on Instagram, more good news that an inspirational Waterford artist and writer is exhibiting her work in Guernsey. Clare Scott is posting more fascinating images and background information about herself and her work. This woman has guts, chutzpah and is oozing with talent. She also shares online the complexity of living as an artist and challenges many mainstream notions of what art is. Go Clare!

These days there are endless stories hidden in plain sight. I wonder what today will reveal?