We celebrated Candlemass a day late at St Catherine's yesterday morning, with the blessing of candles. I walked straight to St David's hospital for a wound dressing change afterwards, then a made a quick trip to the shops before returning home for lunch.
After a siesta, we walked out on Llandaff Fields together before Clare turned back to get ready for a visit to Capel Salem for an evening service in Welsh with our friend Diana. I continued walking around Pontcanna Fields for another hour, enjoying the sunset birdsong, and still evening air, milder than the last few days.
After three fairly quiet days of wound comfort, I had a distressful set-back today, just when I needed it least, having to officiate at a big funeral in St John's, mid-morning, and had to cope with pain and discomfort from the start. It came in a seemingly random way. Clare thought it was nervousness on my part but that kind of physical distress coming unexpectedly triggers the familiar shock reaction, when there's impact on the vagus nerve. It's happened far less over the past six weeks, but it's still very disruptive. It made methodical preparation to leave for church rather difficult, but I was outside the house waiting to be picked up, only half an hour early - I'd entered a leaving time in my diary as if I was walking to St John's, not being collected. By the time chauffeur Paul arrived, my pulse rate was back to normal and the sense of panic was receding.
After that, everything proceeded in order, as planned. The church was full, and I had enough energy to guide people through the service in the best way possible, despite ongoing wound discomfort and pain. The funeral concluded at the Vale Crematorium. It's eighteen months since I was there last to attend Auntie Ivy's humanist funeral, and almost three years since I last officiated there.
Rather go on the busy main road to Barry, Paul took an old country road beyond Caerau to reach the crematorium, and on the return trip used a different one via Dinas Powys, rather than queue in traffic. It's no faster, as country lanes make for slow driving but it's much more pleasant. Paul used to work as a recovery truck driver covering South East Wales, so he knows the region's roads in detail, and has many stories to tell about situations he encountered in the course of work. He is one of Pidgeon's long standing employees and quite a character. Like the rest of them, he's utterly reliable.
In the afternoon, I went to the bank, then across to the river, and came back along the Taff Trail, as the sun was setting, walking for over an hour, needing to exercise despite the wound not yet calming down. I spent the evening half watching a crimmie on TV, while relentlessly doing language drills on DuoLingo to distract me from the pain and discomfort.
I can still say honestly that I'm having more good days than bad ones at the moment. I just hope the balance stays like this until the operation.
After a siesta, we walked out on Llandaff Fields together before Clare turned back to get ready for a visit to Capel Salem for an evening service in Welsh with our friend Diana. I continued walking around Pontcanna Fields for another hour, enjoying the sunset birdsong, and still evening air, milder than the last few days.
After three fairly quiet days of wound comfort, I had a distressful set-back today, just when I needed it least, having to officiate at a big funeral in St John's, mid-morning, and had to cope with pain and discomfort from the start. It came in a seemingly random way. Clare thought it was nervousness on my part but that kind of physical distress coming unexpectedly triggers the familiar shock reaction, when there's impact on the vagus nerve. It's happened far less over the past six weeks, but it's still very disruptive. It made methodical preparation to leave for church rather difficult, but I was outside the house waiting to be picked up, only half an hour early - I'd entered a leaving time in my diary as if I was walking to St John's, not being collected. By the time chauffeur Paul arrived, my pulse rate was back to normal and the sense of panic was receding.
After that, everything proceeded in order, as planned. The church was full, and I had enough energy to guide people through the service in the best way possible, despite ongoing wound discomfort and pain. The funeral concluded at the Vale Crematorium. It's eighteen months since I was there last to attend Auntie Ivy's humanist funeral, and almost three years since I last officiated there.
Rather go on the busy main road to Barry, Paul took an old country road beyond Caerau to reach the crematorium, and on the return trip used a different one via Dinas Powys, rather than queue in traffic. It's no faster, as country lanes make for slow driving but it's much more pleasant. Paul used to work as a recovery truck driver covering South East Wales, so he knows the region's roads in detail, and has many stories to tell about situations he encountered in the course of work. He is one of Pidgeon's long standing employees and quite a character. Like the rest of them, he's utterly reliable.
In the afternoon, I went to the bank, then across to the river, and came back along the Taff Trail, as the sun was setting, walking for over an hour, needing to exercise despite the wound not yet calming down. I spent the evening half watching a crimmie on TV, while relentlessly doing language drills on DuoLingo to distract me from the pain and discomfort.
I can still say honestly that I'm having more good days than bad ones at the moment. I just hope the balance stays like this until the operation.
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