Tag Archives: blood

27 April 2009

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Rather nice butterfly (you can tell I majored in nature study) pictured by the river at Cringleford the other day. I pursued it for a while before getting close enough for this shot.

Now on tenterhooks waiting to see if Norwich City manage to win tonight and preserve their hopes of staying in the Championship. I am not overly optimistic, but then I am not an overly optimistic person – about that sort of thing, anyway. A card Dot discovered while cleaning out my study the other day reminds me that someone of my name “handles disappointment well, since he tends to expect it”. Grain of truth there, though I prefer the “wry sense of humour”. Must be something in it, mustn’t there?

Earlier today went to see my doctor, and got in only 35 minutes late. Can’t complain, can you? My blood’s PSA level is no longer “perfect”: it is “undetectable”. Can something be undetectable and perfect at the same time? Of course it can. Still feeling a bit fragile, but the rest of my blood tests were good too, so I don’t appear to have anything. Nothing obvious, anyway. Three days more antibiotics…

After going to the dentist on Friday (one filling to come), I went with Dot to see Graham Kendrick, well known songwriter and worship leader, at King’s Centre. It was a good evening (800 – sold out), though I would rather he had played some more of his performance songs. Impressive guy; everyone warmed to him. Surprised to see Anna, Nicholas and Phil there from St Augustine’s, and Marjorie – a face from the past: our best man’s sister, who lives just outside Norwich, but who we don’t see very often. Really nice to run into her.

On a roll, we went out again on Saturday evening to see HMS Pinafore by the Carla Rosa Opera at the Theatre Royal. I’m a sucker for G&S, both lyrics and music, but this was an exceptional performance. I sat there with a stupid grin on my face all evening. Sadly the theatre was half empty; hard to understand why, unless it was the ludicrous ticket prices. All right, we were in the best seats, but nearly £30 a ticket?! The Maddermarket, a much nicer and smaller theatre, costs £10-£12 a time.

Led at St Augustine’s on Sunday: almost had to play guitar as well because of music group absentees, but Liz stepped in at the last moment. Ambient Wonder planning in the evening: I think I’m in a minority of one in not really enthusing about the planning meetings, though the pizza and wine were fine. First thoughts on the event at Greenbelt we’re involved in: theme The Long Now. While I was supposed to be praying I thought of a great idea for a poem. Perhaps I was praying. Who knows?

7 March 2008

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A close-up of my parents’ grave, with the marble refurbished and new headstone. Hope Andrew likes it, as he’s been wanting it done for a long time. He’s due to come to Norwich next weekend, so we shall find out. I think it looks pretty good. Next week sees the anniversary of both their deaths – mum on the 11th and Dad on the 13th – his 52nd and her 14th. Sandwiched neatly in between is Phil’s birthday, something he is not going to forget.

Today the weather is bright, but still blustery. Quite a bit milder. Dot has just gone up to see the nurse for a routine check-up. Tuesday evening went well, with a rather splendid salmon dish for eight cooked entirely by Dot. Afterwards we listened to a tape by a guy who was really too laid back for that late in the evening and spoke very slowly. So although what he said was good, people started falling asleep. One of the things he said was that if God stopped loving us we would cease to exist. The same goes for everything created. I rather like that.

Wednesday was very stressful for various reasons, mainly to do with the insurance company but partly because I got the results of my blood test, which were not as good as I had hoped they would be. So it seems likely that I will have to have the mammoth 20-strike prostate biopsy, which involves general anaesthetic but is only a day procedure. Ironically I feel fine and the symptoms are much less than they were a year or two ago, but you can’t argue with PSA levels. Apparently. I spoke to the consultant’s secretary, but although she said she’d get back to me, she hasn’t. Is this a good sign or just normal incompetence?

In the evening I played chess at Diss, which involved picking up two team members – one from the other side of the city – and driving there, which took a total of about an hour each way. We lost 3-1, but I managed a draw on Board Two, though I was disappointed to miss what might have been a win earlier in the game. We had a strong guest player on Board One, but he lost to Mike Harris, as most people do.

Very poor night’s sleep on Wednesday – about four hours – and I had to get up early yesterday to give a talk on poetry at Costessey Junior School for Sheila Greenacre, who’s a friend and the assistant head. Managed to get there in good time, and the session went very well, partly because Sheila is a very good teacher, partly because they were an excellent set of children. Used quite a few of my poems, but also a couple of others – notably W B Yeats’ He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven (Yeats is a brilliant poet who never quite got the hang of titles). One of my favourites, and they seemed to appreciate it. I thought of doing it as I was lying in bed at about 5am, trying to sleep.

Afterwards we went to Dunston Hall for a bar meal and to make arrangements for our ruby wedding do in August. All went well, but by the time I got home I was pretty well shattered, and we plonked in front of the TV and did some more catching up. While Dot did some work preparing for next inspection I watched Van Helsing – a horror film that’s surprisingly good. I don’t normally watch horror films, but I’d heard it was exceptional, and it is.

In the evening I took the momentous decision to stop watching or recording Torchwood after viewing a particularly tedious episode about someone who is supposed to be walking around dead but acting normally. I love Dr Who, but this spin-off totally fails. The lead character is supposed to be charismatic, but is a smug bit of nothing with no redeeming features. No-one is interesting, the scripts are wooden, and the direction lacks any spark at all. You just hang on waiting for the one new idea to come along, and too often it doesn’t. There’s also a nihilistic background philosophy, which grates. It’s very unusual for us to stop watching a series we’ve started, but last night’s episode was just too appalling. There was no reason to go on, and if you lived in the Torchwood world, it would be hard to see why you would want to. No motivation, either for the viewer or the cast. I have stopped loving Torchwood. It has ceased to exist.

6 December 2007

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Grandson Oliver goes round his home crazy golf course at breakneck speed. Meanwhile I got through a chess game at breakneck speed, agreeing an early draw in a sterile position against Fakenham on Monday. My grading is plunging, and I’m due to play for the A team tomorrow as a stand-in.

Oliver’s other grandparents have been with us during the last three days, and we’ve had a great time despite some really dismal weather, which seems set to continue. On Tuesday we took them to the Bally Art Factory studios, and to my surprise they bought three of Annette’s pictures, plus one from another artist as a bonus. We then had lunch at the Assembly House, which was good but slow, and followed it up with a walk round Norwich. Unhappily the continental fair had packed up early because of wind and rain in the morning, but by afternoon it was quite pleasant. We bought some cheese on the market, plus one or two other things.

In the evening we went to the Theatre Royal to see Comedy of Errors: a truly excellent performance by the Royal Shakespeare Company. The new theatre is mostly impressive, but I don’t like the long rows in the Circle, with no centre aisle. You won’t catch me in the middle of one of them.

This morning the Evetts departed after breakfast, and Dot and I went up to the church hall to unpack some furniture for the upstairs room, which Heather C had brought in a van. We also unpacked a Christmas tree and installed it in the corner, with some help from Liz and support from Rosemary. Looks pretty good.

I checked on my blood test results, and discovered my PSA level was up quite a bit, which is disappointing. Now 12.7, which is equivalent to about double that, because I’m taking a drug to reduce the size of my prostate. Rang the hospital, and Mr Sethia’s secretary said he would be in touch. My symptoms are no worse – better most of the time – but I wasn’t feeling particularly well when I had my blood taken. Whether this is relevant is another matter.

Dot is just off to Gillingham School where she is a governor. She has just heard that they are having an Ofsted inspection next week. On the Atlantic chart, a series of lows are lining up against us.