Tag Archives: hospital

Motorway magic

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Andrew at Happisburgh
Andrew at Happisburgh

Summer seems to be approaching, at least for a while. Sunny and warm today, and we sat in the garden and drunk tea after Dot got back from one of her schools this afternoon. Earlier she came with me to the doctor’s, and  I think he was intimidated into giving me a pretty thorough going over, though I think he believes nothing is wrong. So do I really. Nevertheless my blood pressure is still a bit high, and I have to return for a check in about a month. Meanwhile I am having a chest x-ray at the hospital, which apparently you can do on a drop-in basis, as long as they know your doctor  is sending you.

While there Dot mentioned her heart did a funny sort of beat-skipping thing, with the result that she had to go to a clinic this afternoon and is booked in for something else. I don’t know the details, because she is now at a governors’ meeting at Little Plumstead, but she sounded pretty upbeat on the phone. So is Phil, who was at the hospital yesterday and has been promised some treatment to reduce muscle pain from his Parkinson’s.

The previous three days were taken up by Andrew. Phil drove me over to Coventry to fetch him on Monday, when it rained quite a lot, but not at the critical times. Because of road works we got on to the M11 going the wrong way, but were able to reverse that quite quickly. However, we mirrored the adventure coming back, when there was a huge hold-up approaching Cambridge on the A14, and I decided (as navigator) to continue down the M11 to Duxford and then go back up the A11. It seems a big diversion, but I think it was the right thing to do.

Before that we’d had a meal at Thrapston Little Chef, where Andrew was disconcerted to find no steak on the menu, but settled for barbecued chicken followed by (you guessed it) a sundae.

On Tuesday the weather was much better. Andrew and I walked into the city, heading for M&S, but discovered Peacock’s in the Mall and bought him a new jacket, new trousers, shirts, pants and socks, as all these seemed to be in short supply at Coventry (except the jacket, which was just in very bad shape). He declined my suggestion that we get him a haircut, and instead we had a coffee in the Arcade. Nasty moment there as he left for the toilet in the middle and (a) couldn’t find it and (b) took a long time to come back. I had visions of him wandering around Norwich (because the toilets were oddly outside the restaurant).

Anyway we found ourselves in the Castle Museum instead. Then after lunch Dot visited a school at Corton and I took Andrew to Barton Broad, which promised more than it delivered, then on to Walcott, where we got an ice cream, and Happisburgh, where we surveyed the recent surge damage and walked along the cliffs to see where the path had fallen into the sea.

Andrew was quite keen to go on a train, for some reason, so yesterday he and I took the train to North Walsham and walked through the town to the cemetery, where we met Dot, put flowers on the graves and drove home together. (Dot had  meanwhile dropped in to see her aunt.)

After lunch we set off for Coventry and made quite good time, arriving at Minster Lodge at almost exactly 5pm, which was not the brightest thing to do. All well there – staff very pleased to see him back, or at least gave that impression – but then I tried to drive through the rush-hour traffic while avoiding the numerous road works. In the end I arrived by chance at Cheylesmore and sat in Dawlish Drive eating my chicken sandwich in the sun.

Afterwards I eventually found Binley and got some petrol at Morrisons before heading back to the A45 and home by the longer but easier route (M45, M1, A421), doing it in well under three hours. At Newport Pagnell services I was approached by a woman who was driving the wrong way down the M1 (bit of a theme, this) and wanted to know if there was any way she could turn round. I told her she would have to go on to the next junction, which was not far away. She was heading for Oxford, using “heading” in a completely different sense.

I arrived home about half an hour before Dot got back from orchestra rehearsal.

Happisburgh lighthouse from the now accessible pill box near the cliff edge.
Happisburgh lighthouse from the now accessible pill box near the cliff edge.

Going back a bit, on Friday last week Dot and I went to another Julian Week lunchtime  talk – this time by Dr Sarah Law on Julian and the Poetic Process. This was another really good one, despite the rather pathetic introducer, who seemed never to have seen a microphone before, let alone know how it worked. She propped it limply against the podium, where it was no use to man or beast. Fortunately the speaker overcame her ineptitude. That’s the trouble with these mystics: they don’t know how the world works.

Not true of Julian, of course, as former Archbishop Rowan Williams made clear in a much longer talk at the Cathedral the following morning, starting at 10.30am. Not much would get us out of bed that early on a Saturday, but he was well worth hearing, talking about Julian’s anti-theology and much else that I wish I could remember. Happily, I believe the talk is being printed, so I can go back and check. Many friends in the packed audience.

But I am leaping ahead. Friday contained more – starting with my picking up the St Augustine’s accounts file from Sarah, continuing with delivering some old videos etc to Stuart to sell in a sale at The Stage and ending with a concert at St Andrew’s Hall by the London Philharmonic. We had a front-row seat; however, it was strategically placed so that we couldn’t see the soloist and could only catch a glimpse of the conductor. Yes, dear reader, we were behind a pillar. I knew the pillar was there when I booked, but figured we could see behind it. Unhappily, the plan I consulted was inaccurate. On the plus side, we were perfectly placed for Dot to study the second violins in action. And the music was really good.

It was the first event of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. The second, on Saturday morning, was erecting a cardboard copy of St Peter Mancroft outside the Forum. Unfortunately, it was very windy.  The result was described by a friend as “underwhelming”. Harsh but fair.

Short hair, broken fan

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Another shot from our Whitlingham walk
Another shot from our Whitlingham walk

Here I am waiting to have a sigmoidoscopy. It doesn’t happen till early this afternoon, but already my stomach is churning (actually it’s being doing it for days). Not sure if it’s foreboding or an actual stomach upset. The operation is minor, of course, but it’s the bit before and after I’m not keen on. I’ll keep you posted if I survive.

Dot is out visiting a school but will be back to accompany me to the hospital, in case I need sedation, which I am much in favour of. I am totally against unnecessary pain, and I’m not all that much in favour of necessary pain.

Happily our heating is back on. The boiler fan broke on Tuesday, leaving us with an electrically powered group meal in the evening. Quite cosy in fact, but the rest of the house was decidedly chilly. The gas man turned up the next day at 10am, at precisely the same time as our hairdresser, who had been rescheduled from Monday. He took some time to work out the problem, but then happily was able to fix it.

Meanwhile Dot was rather nervously having her hair cut short: it looks good. Mine is pretty short too, but it pales into insignificance beside Dot’s. Hair and boiler were both sorted in time for Dot and I to drive to the NRO to hear Anna’s “Paston Treasure” talk, which as very good. Judy was also there and so, surprisingly, was Lucy, rising from her sickbed and driven by Diana.

In the evening, while Dot was at orchestra, I walked up to the Maddermarket and got a ticket to see The Seagull, in which two of my former colleagues at ECN were performing. The theatre was sparsely populated, but the acting was good, though I think the guy who shot himself at the end (spoiler alert) should have done it much earlier. Trevor Burton was excellent, as was David Newham. The older woman/famous actress didn’t help the plot by being clearly more attractive than the young Nina who was supposed to be luring Trevor away from her.

I nearly missed the opportunity of seeing the play because I was unexpectedly asked to play chess for the A team in the evening, but this proved to be a false alarm: one of the regular players recovered from a bad back and beat the Norfolk champion. So that was all good.

Yesterday I called on the parish treasurer, Susannah, who lives in a house overlooking Carey’s Meadow in Thorpe. A totally stunning view. We had a conversation about splitting the parish share, which we agreed should be 70-30. I have no idea whether this is right or not. I suspect not. (Definitely not. – Ed. mf)

Later, while Dot was shopping after lunch with Sue Eagle and friends, I drove to Paston for a meeting of the trustees. A painfully slow process – and that was just getting there. The meeting itself was OK, though I was surprised to hear that Lucy was disputing the bill from the UEA, although  she’d told me she was paying it. I am having nothing more to do with it.

Paston expert put on spot

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Wensum Park, during a walk on Monday
Wensum Park, during a walk on Monday

OK: we found the missing photographs for Jessie – old ones with nurses on them, among other things – but Jessie wasn’t able to identify much when we called in on Sunday afternoon. Roger was also there, and we gave him a lift up to Ray’s on our way home (he was delivering something and then walking back).

The concert on Saturday was extremely good, and we had excellent seats. Colin Dowdeswell was conducting, and we had a chat with his wife, who vouchsafed the alarming news that the Hendersons are moving back to Norwich when Paul retires next year. We knew this was a possibility, but it seems to be firming up.

Visited Geoff in hospital on Monday: pushed him in a wheelchair to the quiet spot over the road and had a longish talk, partly while Sophie was talking to an authority figure (not sure who she was) about arrangements for Geoff’s discharge, maybe in a week or two. He is much, much better, but they are both stressed about what will happen when he has to leave.

Busy day yesterday: I was at Cromer just after 10am for my appointment at the hospital, which took place on time. It turned out to be a minor  operation: a more major one (sigmoidoscopy) is due to take place fairly soon in Norwich, but this is purely precautionary: the doctor said he didn’t think there was a problem. Feeling more or less OK.

Got back to Norwich in good time, though the weather was so beautiful I wished I didn’t have to. But I wanted to hear Karen Smyth talk about merchants and medieval literature, and I’m glad I did. Had a longish talk with Angela, who is now in charge at Dragon Hall, and a quick exchange with Karen, who embarrassed me slightly by calling on me as a Paston expert when someone asked a Paston-related question afterwards. Fortunately, I was able to answer it (it was about Bromholm Priory),  so perhaps I am. Hard to believe.

Had to go to Morrisons afterwards to buy food for the Tuesday Group in the evening, where David A played a talk by John Donoghue about beauty, which was inspiring.

Dot has been out and about a lot, and is “fighting off something” (not me). She was coughing a bit in the night, so I hope her fight succeeds, and includes me.

After trying to find a way of sending my steam train video to Dave Evetts, I have had to admit defeat (file too large). Pity. While waiting for my appointment at Cromer, I wrote most of a poem called Age of Steam, which I have now finished and am pleased with. Have just finished reading a superb book called The Misogynist, by Piers Paul Read. Beautifully written, with a nice ending.

Colonoscopy, gas and all that jazz

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At the King's Head, Hoveton, for supper: Fred, Sue, Ivan, Joyce, Marjorie, Pat

Congratulations to the highways authorities, who have timed road works on Carrow Bridge to coincide with the last weekend of the summer holidays, when all those parents and children are buying back-to-school stuff and the city is crammed. I have just taken our hairdresser Linda up to Ber Street so that she can leave her haircutting bag at her partner’s workplace: her own car is in for an MOT test. On the way back I encountered a long queue of lost cars up Rouen Road, which I ruthlessly jumped. Or slipped into, to be more accurate.

Last night I travelled to Lowestoft, accompanied by Dot after a last-minute decision, for the Waveney and Blyth Arts event. I was supposed to arrive at 6.30 for a run-through, but unsurprisingly this never happened, so we were hanging around for 45 minutes. As much of this was spent chatting to Ian Fosten, it wasn’t a hardship. The event featured poets of a rather higher calibre than some that have appeared at the Seagull, though not all of them were much of a judge of how long ten minutes is. I thought my poems (with accompanying photographs projected on screen) went quite well, though I felt some were a little obscure. Most of the poets relied heavily on evocative description without being particularly poetic in a use-of-words way, the one exception being Nina Roffey from Beccles.

Dot had been feeling rather fragile following her colonoscopy. The first night was bad: she was in a lot of pain, and I was worried that we might have to call the hospital. But it eased off eventually – it was almost certainly caused by the gas that they pump into you during the procedure and don’t bother to pump out again. One day this will be regarded as barbaric. The procedure itself was also painful, but I was out of earshot, taking a walk, having been assured that I wouldn’t be needed.

The next day (Thursday) she was very tired and still had occasional quite bad pain, but she summoned up the will to go to Wroxham on the Jazz Cruise organised by Fred and Sue for the ruby wedding celebration. I was pretty worried how she would last, but it turned out all right, with only a couple of alarms. We had a nice carvery meal in the King’s Head before leaving on the cruise at 7.30pm, sailing down past Horning after taking in Wroxham and Salhouse Broads. It was a lovely evening, though of course it turned quite chilly, and we ended up snug in the cabin after starting on deck. Also present, Marjorie and Pat; Joyce and Ivan. Plus, unexpectedly, Dot’s “friend” from the Bluebell in North Walsham, with whole we had a chat. The jazz band was pretty good too.

This morning we had to be up and about early for our haircut, because Linda was dropped off by Michael on his way to work. In an hour or so we will be at Wymondham for a barbecue at Matt’s house – a kind of farewell before he leaves for Palestine. Weather is very good at the moment.

 

Bit of brightness

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The River Blyth at Blyford Bridge

The pitch and putt went pretty well. Although I didn’t play as well as I did last time, I did improve my score slightly. There were quite a lot of people on the course, but we were lucky in that a group of six-plus who paid ahead of us let us go first. I think four should be a maximum really, but then I’m pretty right-wing about that sort of thing. Anne had real problems actually hitting the ball, except when she was on the green, when she was very good. I don’t know who won, because significantly, we didn’t compare scorecards at the end. Instead we went for a meal at Prezzo’s.

Yesterday I took advantage of a bit of brightness in the morning to drive to Southwold to get some photos for my rivers project. Stopped at Blyford Bridge and then went on to Southwold Harbour. Again, plenty of people about, but I did manage to get a couple of decent shots. Dot didn’t come, because she was already feeling light-headed as the diet in preparation for her colonoscopy tonight kicked in. Today she is feeling pretty low because of the rather violent reaction to the medication she has to take, which means she has to be within about six inches of a toilet at all times. This is not easy to arrange. She has finished eating now. The procedure is at 7pm.

I’ve finished my river poems and sent the pictures to Ian, but no response yet. I now need to turn my attention to the Paston poems and to Blofield. Lucy is in hospital again and feeling the strain.

Breathtaking walk along the river

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Ducking the issue: looking for a handout at Thurne Staithe

It seems spring is really here – for a while, at least. Yesterday I even found myself reading outdoors, on a warm, sunny seat by the University Broad. I was on my way back from the hospital, where I had been told that I didn’t need what my GP had described as a “telescope up the bum”, because my mild abdominal discomfort was a result of scar tissue from the operation, which is what I thought. Relief, mainly.

The walk back through the university grounds and along the river to Cringleford was beautiful. I paused to watch a ladies’ soccer match early on, but it wasn’t really very good. The students had overflowed out of the university and were enjoying the sun, so I assume there were no lectures going on. The river was dead calm and the whole scene approaching Cringleford was pretty breathtaking.

In the evening we went to see a staging of Under Milk Wood by Crude Apache at Dragon Hall. Lovely setting in the medieval merchant house upstairs hall, with spectators sitting within inches of the actors! Really good performance.

Earlier in the week my Twitter contact Ryan came and did some aerial magic for us so that we can get digital in both bedrooms (if we get digital TVs, that is). Could be useful. The digital switchover for our area is this November.

On Monday I spent much of the afternoon at Blofield Church with Lucy, Jo and a couple of local enthusiasts, planning a Heritage Day featuring the Paston connection. Two later Paston tombs in the church, one of which (Margaret, late 17C) has a poem by Dryden on it. All sounded very promising, not least because they are very well organised as far as publicity goes. Meanwhile we are taking steps to move the Paston website somewhere nearer Paston where (more importantly) the content can be easily updated.

Changing the channel

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Dot with umbrella
Dot taking precautions in Yelverton churchyard, following the wedding of Charlotte and Chris last weekend

Here I am back in the study, and the computer is working fine. It did fail again, but this time I was able to access the wireless settings and change the channel successfully. I feel as if someone ought to change my channel, though I’m actually feeling a good bit better. Went to the hospital today to see a nurse (as you do), and after a chat we agreed I was probably OK really, at least as far as the urology department was concerned. Good to have a lengthy discussion with her.

Afterwards Dot and I went to Waitrose to buy some food for tomorrow and ran into Heather Vesey, who is a nice person to run into. Following that we visited my aunt Kathleen, who is back at her flat after having a broken hip fixed. She’s surprisingly sprightly, though of course there’s plenty of stuff she can’t do yet. Also today completed a writing task for Howard, which may be the first of several. Had a bit of a struggle getting to grips with the health service structure involved, but it came out all right in the end.

Meanwhile, Alan picked up the old computer, and Rupert called for his picture. Dot spent a couple of days at a South Norfolk school advising on the selection of a new head teacher. I played a good game of chess on Monday night against a fellow-club member but just failed to hold it together at the end. Oh yes, and I’ve booked a cottage at Aldeburgh for three nights over the weekend of the poetry festival. Hope the weather is better than is predicted for the coming weekend (and tomorrow), which is wet, very wet, windy and very windy. Joy. Still, it was very pleasant today: I think they call it a window.

Rain and champagne

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Queen Amy
Queen Amy processes down the castle steps during our holiday in Llanberis.

The time is just flashing by. Probably something to do with my being 65. It looked as if it was going to be a quiet week, but something happened every day, which I guess is better than the alternative. Tuesday was our 42nd wedding anniversary, and we celebrated with lunch at Caffee Uno (during which it poured with rain outside) and champagne at Tuesday Group. On Wednesday, Dot and I met Jessie at Jarrold’s, had a meal with her and then brought her home to look at our Welsh pictures on Apple TV. To make up for it, we took her home afterwards. On Thursday I went to the hospital while Dot was at Ethel’s. I received a certain amount of reassurance concerning rehabilitation from my operations; I had been feeling a bit down about it. Actually my health is quite good, and I walked halfway home afterwards. It was a bit muggy, so I took a bus the rest of the way: in fact the mugginess has been a constant over the last few days.

On Friday I drove over to Paston while Dot carried through the second stage of a mammoth house-cleaning project, and met with Lucy and Annette to discuss taking the Paston project to Oxburgh Hall. Annette and I will be offering a workshop, if we can work out how to organise it. Every sign that the Paston thing will extend some way into the future, and that there will be more poems and artwork to come from it. Maybe a second book, though it will different from the first – no more copies of which can be printed because several of the plates have unbelievably collapsed or gone missing. I have to write the words for a flyer and a press release, and later this month will be going to Oxburgh Hall with Annette to reconnoitre. After the discussion Annette and I were treated by Lucy  to lunch at the Ship in Mundesley: we all went for the fish and chips, and were not disappointed. Good service: according to Lucy, they only employ graduates. That must be illegal, because it works so well.

In the evening we were given a lift by Vicky and Jared to Roger’s birthday do in Thorpe. As none of us knew anyone else there (except Roger’s son Philip) we spent most of the evening talking to each other and had a good time. Met Roger’s new girlfriend, who seemed extremely nice. We had a little too much to drink, but survived without medical help. Ho, ho.

David came up on Saturday to accompany us to the friendly match between Norwich City and Everton, which ended 2-4. Quite encouraged by the performance of the new Canaries, especially Andrew Crofts. Norwich gave away a couple of soft goals, but weren’t hopelessly outclassed. It was 2-2 for a while. Well, about a minute, I think. Although it was raining when David arrived shortly before 2pm I successfully predicted no more rain after about 2.15pm, after consulting three different forecasts. So we bravely managed without umbrellas. Still very warm, as it is today. Afterwards I showed David our Welsh photos, and then we watched the European Athletics championships, at which we did quite well. Appropriately, a Welsh one-two in the 400m hurdles. England also doing quite well against Pakistan in the test match. David stayed overnight, and left about 10 this morning.

Today Ruth was taking the service for the first time, and I gave Steve a hand with the music. We had originally intended to be in London with the Coomes’, but Maurice has been very ill, and David and Kristine are up in Yorkshire. Ruth and Steve did really well, and I’m trying to persuade Ruth to do it on a regular basis (and Steve to join the music group). Good sermon by Margaret.

Have done a bit of work in the garden, but not as much as Dot, obviously. I’ve cut back some roses from above the potatoes, and we’ve tidied up at the front too. Our brown bin runneth over.

11 June 2009

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becb

Bit more than a hiatus there: more of a huge gap. Originally caused by the absence of my computer, which has had its logic board replaced under guarantee by an excellent Norwich outfit called Bite, but then exacerbated (or lengthened) by the revelation from my son that Yahoo 360 is shutting down on July 12 – my birthday. How appropriate. Happily he has the expertise to transfer the whole thing to a new blog site called WordPress, where it will eventually be resurrected. Meanwhile…

Dot has been very busy over the past couple of weeks visiting schools in her DSSO role and today is in Hertfordshire on a research trip (I choose my words carefully) organised by the Norfolk Association for Primary Head Teachers. I had to deliver her to Thickthorn services at 7.30am. Rain bucketed down on the way there, but eased off when we arrived. David is going to create a website for said NAfPHT and was in Norwich yesterday afternoon to chat with Dot and Sue Eagle about it. We had a rather nice lunch, and David sorted out a message that kept appearing on my computer. Good to see him.

We have also passed through a good DCC meeting and an excellent Ambient Wonder organised by Matthew and including a barbecue, which we managed to get through shortly before a torrential downpour put it out quite thoroughly. Perfect, really.

The other major event of the past few days had been our weekend at Blakeney with the Evetts and friends: this year’s reunion, once again at the Manor Hotel. The forecast was not good, but the actual weather was much better, and we managed a five-and-a-half-mile walk on the Saturday, up to Wiveton Downs and returning across the fields to the coast path between Blakeney and Morston. The picture was taken on a minor summit at Wiveton Downs – and I do mean minor. Dot, Julia and Dave in triumphant mood. Food at the hotel was generally good without being spectacular, and we introduced Julia and Dave to the amazing Cookie’s at Salthouse, which I think went down quite well. On the Sunday Dot and I returned to Norwich via Baconsthorpe Castle, which was a bit of a revelation: an unheralded but extensive and picturesque Tudor ruin, together with lake, at the end of a farm track which, once the foliage grows a little longer, will be completely unsignposted. At present the sign is just visible from one direction only. Excellent: keep it secret, I say.

On Tuesday Dot and I found a couple of spare hours to respond to the kind invitation of Ruthli Losh-Atkinson (one of my two collaborative artists in the Twenty Group) and her husband Douglas to tea and biscuits, plus a tour of their house and garden. Both of them are incredibly creative, and the house and garden reflect this: the former is absolutely full of paintings and sculpture; the latter is perfectly organised, yielding a big variety of vegetables and fruit. Apparently they have two large freezers. And motor cycles.

10pm: Dot now back from research trip. Collected her from Thickthorn after visit to hospital, during which I was told I needed another operation, though a much smaller one. However, it will be under anaesthetic and will require a night in hospital. Apparently I probably have a problem with the neck of my bladder. Or, possibly, something else. They will see when they get in there. Not looking forward to it, but I am looking forward to something being done, as the last few weeks haven’t been much fun. As it’s urgent, the NHS should be able to do it within 4-6 weeks (I daren’t ask how long it would take if it wasn’t urgent), so I am asking about getting it done privately. I don’t want it to interfere with our holiday in Scotland or my trip to Hull. At present I’m due for a final pre-op assessment (some of it was done today) on June 29, but events could overtake that.

Now I’m going to bed. Haven’t had enough sleep the last few days. I should of course have mentioned that in the midst of all this, my aunt Vi died at the age of 93. It was great that we managed to get out there and see her in 2007, and she had been very ill recently. She died peacefully, I think. Sent flowers to South Africa. Isn’t Interflora wonderful?

18 August 2008

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Dot with Julia and Allan Higbee, who we visited last Friday. My last night with a catheter – at least for a while. On Saturday I went back to Edgefield Ward for its removal, and after waiting the usual two hours-plus, this was done, painlessly, by an auxiliary called Wendy. And this time I performed perfectly acceptably afterwards and was allowed home. However, it came as a bit of a blow to discover that I would have to self-catheterise. It was slightly less of a blow when I discovered what this meant, and that I could do it fairly easily, but it would be nice to be free of the whole thing. However, the guys with me in the ward were in a far worse state generally, and remarkably cheerful. I felt a bit humbled really, but at the same time unjustifiably downcast. I think I was afraid of it all going wrong again. This feeling lasted overnight, but I am now more optimistic, although I do still have this odd, tight, heavy feeling in my abdomen which I would like to go away.

Went to church on Sunday and played guitar and led prayers: a good service led by Paul. Afterwards we had a quiet afternoon watching the Olympics.

Today I tried to get some extra sleep, but was unsuccessful, although I did actually stay in bed most of the morning. Again watched some Olympics, then went up to doctor’s to take note from hospital, and Dot called in at Garden Centre to get some oasis for our party next week. Afterwards I walked home from the Ketts Hill roundabout after posting some letters. Still get tired quickly. Dot is busy organising the tables for the 31st: she is doing a great job. I need to get on with writing my speech and organising the music.