Tag Archives: ill

Dot and car both unable to go out

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A rare picture of our new wall (usually inaccessible or hidden behind Wildlife vehicles)

Ok, that’s far too long a gap – yet again. In self-justification, I was going to do it at the weekend, but someone decided late on Saturday afternoon that they weren’t going to be able to do a sermon the next morning, so I had to write one. As part of my sermon was about how self-justification is unnecessary and not very appealing, you can ignore that last bit. Oh dear: too late.

Dot has been ill too. She gets really bad colds that don’t normally last all that long but are extremely unpleasant for her while they last. They’re also quite frightening, especially when she can’t stop coughing and can’t breathe. She’s been in bed for a couple of days, but is now improving (though still in bed at the moment).

Last night of course she was unable to go to the final concert of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival at St Andrew’s Hall – a performance of Verdi’s Requiem by the London Philharmonic and the Festival Chorus. I took Judy instead, and she was most appreciative. Rightly so, because it was  superb. This is really not my sort of music, but it was top quality. I was particularly impressed by the soprano. At the end one of the cellists mouthed to one of her colleagues that it had been a good performance. She was right.

We saw the Cracknells in passing. Wouldn’t have thought it was their sort of thing either, but their eclecticism shouldn’t surprise me any more.

The weather yesterday and today is really summery. It wasn’t too bad on Saturday, but there was a cool wind while Colin and his son were rebuilding part of our wall at the back and erecting a new trellis. I have to say it looked really good, despite Dot’s not being able to supervise.

Dot’s car is ill too. It sprung a leak in the power steering fluid reservoir, which had to be replaced, but it will apparently take three weeks to do so; so we are a one-car family. I have looked carefully at our diaries, and I think we shall be able to cope. Perhaps we only need one car… Dot doesn’t think so.

It went into the garage last Monday, and the same evening I played my last game of chess this season, beating Andy Pandian (Oh yes) to reach 6/8 in my tournament. I still don’t know if this will be enough to win it. I suspect not. But as it may be my last game for a while, and it features a very nice finish, here it is (well, the finish, anyway):

At this point I envisaged a nice sacrificial finish, but I had to persuade him to allow it, so I played 40 Qd6. Exchanging queens would give me an easily superior position, so as I expected, he played 40…Qc3, whereupon I played 41 f6. This wins whatever he does, but happily he didn’t see the main threat and played 41…axb, and on my 42 Qxf8+ he resigned immediately. He has to take the Queen, when 43 Rd8 is mate. Not difficult, but quite pleasant.

Longish meeting of the Paston Trustees on a very chilly Thursday. Dot dropped me at Rob’s while she took Jessie to the crematorium at Horsham St Faith’s (it was the anniversary of Frank’s death), and Rob gave me a lift to Paston. Much discussion on many issues, which I somehow managed to translate the next day into coherent minutes. My preparations for Dragon Hall seem OK (I had seen Sarah again) and they were fairly impressed by my new flyers. I’m OK at producing publicity, but I’m not sure what to do with it.

Much else going on in the background. A has now been transferred to a smaller ward after he had become very hostile to other patients for no apparent reason, but on the plus side he is now getting visits from church friends who I got in touch with. Phil is in Southampton with Sam, who has just got a new job at St Swithun’s Girls’ School in Winchester, which should suit him down to the ground. Meanwhile I’m taking Joy to Ditchingham this afternoon for a five-day retreat.

 

 

29 March 2009

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Yes, as I said, more to be done. Unfortunately I’ve been ill again and am taking ages to recover. This time it’s a urine infection “and possibly something else”, to quote the very charming doctor I saw on Wednesday morning. I am on antibiotics, which have done enough to allow me to tick over but certainly haven’t got rid of it. Still, another two days of them to go. Saw David last weekend (Mothering Sunday), and we had steak and chips at home before visiting the Rosary and the cemetery at North Walsham. Happily I was still well then.

Spent most of Monday and Tuesday in bed, having cancelled chess and the Tuesday Group, but managed to stay up after seeing the doctor and have been wandering vaguely around ever since. Managed to get a bit of an appetite back: at one point my weight was down to what it was when I came out of hospital. Managed to get up to Cow Hill to record my four poems for the Twenty Group exhibition: went well. Am now about to leave for the launch of the Paston Exhibition. More on that story later, as Kirsty Wark would say.

22 April 2008

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Still on the football theme, this is a five-a-side team made up of members of the Eastern Counties Newspapers trainee course in spring 1991. This would probably have been taken in May or June. I am on the left, of course, and continuing left to right we have Tim Miller, Darren Kemp, Robert Liddle, Mike Randall and Siobhan Hand. In the background at the right is my son David, then about 19, who played as a guest (against the regular reporters, I think). No idea what the score was, but I think we did reasonably well. In case anyone is wondering, I was teaching on the course: local and central government and techniques of journalism. David Paull ran the course and was law lecturer: Frances Burrows taught shorthand. We’re all now retired, of course. Except the trainees. And David.

Since my last entry here I have been feeling pretty awful, with a bad upper respiratory tract infection apparently stemming from the biopsy. I suspect this is the sort of thing doctors are not interested in because it isn’t life-threatening, but It makes you feel so wretched that having prostate cancer seems like a minor issue (at the time). A combination of high temperature, inflammation in your breathing tubes and coughing means you can’t get comfortable enough to sleep or even relax. It really is a nightmare, and what makes it worse is that you think it’s getting a bit better and then it gets worse again.

So I don’t know whether I’m actually over the worst or if I’m just well enough for now to write this. I feel very, very tired, but the pain in my head has eased off. I was given Ciprofloxacin (an antibiotic) in case I got an infection, but to say I was unimpressed by it is a major understatement. I only started to feel a bit better when I stopped taking it. Of course if I hadn’t taken it I might have died, but these things are relative.

We have cancelled our break in York, which was due to start tomorrow. I don’t think we’ll be charged for the hotel, and the theatre is very kindly refunding the tickets (though they have no need to), so when it is all sorted out, I think it will just cost us the £10 rail tickets cancellation fee. Very disappointing, though, especially as the weather is no nice at the moment. Makes you want to go out – and Dot has just walked to the shops – but I daren’t go far in case of the other side-effect of this whole mess: having to rush to the loo.

Seems ridiculous to have gone through all this when I was fine to start with. Now they want Dot to take cholesterol pills because she has a high count on a recent test. Both she and I are against it: she’s already taking blood pressure pills for no good reason (and is told she can’t come off them), so why add more pointless medication when she feels fine? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I wish I’d said that.

5 November 2007

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Partly – though perhaps not entirely – because I’ve been feeling lousy, I have not made any progress with novel-writing five days into novel-writing month, and will probably abandon the attempt, concentrating instead on writing a short story for the Fish competition, getting a collection of poems together to submit to a publisher and writing a Christmas drama. So if I’m galvanised into something, it will have been worthwhile, and if David finishes his novel and makes a million I shall bask in reflected glory. I can do basking.

I’ve been feeling vaguely sub-fluish, with a floaty head (no picture, unfortunately), occasional nausea, pains in odd places and particularly severe pains in my lower back. Dot thinks this is to do with my weight, but I am not fooled. Anyway, I am feeling a bit better this evening (she prayed for me before going to Weightwatchers) and will shortly be off to play a tournament chess match, if I can avoid the fireworks.

Yesterday I managed Communion and the church lunch. Read one of my poems in the service – immediately following Rufus Wainwright’s version of the Leonard Cohen song Hallelujah, which is not where you want to be – and all went well. Didn’t do much for the rest of the day, other than catching up on recorded TV programmes. No, I didn’t feel like writing. Norwich CIty came back from 2-0 down to draw 2-2 with Ipswich, so Glenn Roeder, our new manager, is clearly the Messiah.

Today we went to Park Farm, then to visit Dot’s cousin R. On emerging form his house we found it had started raining. Chilly too.

Oh, yes – the picture. Another one of our refurbished garage to demonstrate that I do sometimes play cars (and trains) with Oliver, whatever he says. It’s hard on the knees, though.

29 January 2007

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This is the promised picture of David’s new car – an Astra. Actually the first car he’s ever bought.

Dot is still not very well. She spent all day in bed yesterday with her sinus infection, and I would have liked her to stay there today, but she insisted on coming with me to North Walsham to put flowers on her mother’s grave. It’s her mother’s birthday today. Now she’s gone to have herself weighed, but that shouldn’t take long. Not that I think it’s a good idea.

I’m playing chess later and could do with a win, as I’m having a very mediocre season. But I’m not tremendously optimistic.

Yesterday I was doing most things at church. I was the only musician (using the word loosely); I also did the sermon and the prayers. In the evening I went to Ambient Wonder, which consisted of a labyrinth (there will be a write-up on it eventually on www.ambientwonder.org).

I have discovered that the name Lenton is very old, going back at least to the Domesday Book in 1086. It probably meant originally two or three pallisaded houses in a forest clearing – from two old English words which gave us “lea” and “town”.

There are two English places called Lenton – one in Lincolnshire, probably Leofa’s tun, but spelt Lenton since 1202. It is south-east of Grantham, near Ingoldsby. The other is a suburb of Nottingham, on the river Leen, which is a corruption of a Celtic word for a river or other waterway. My wild guess is that the Lincolnshire village was founded by someone who came from Lenton in Nottinghamshire. It’s not far away. Just follow the A52.