I had a message from Amanda remembering that today is the forty sixth anniversary of her Confirmation at St Agnes Church on the night of the St Paul's riots. We'd been chatting about a housebound parishioner of St Agnes Church, who was a real character with an unusual post-war history. I had then sent Amanda a copy of the short story I wrote about her, which mentioned the service at St Agnes on that same night at which both of them were Confirmed. Amazing to think it all happened half a lifetime ago!
Yesterday afternoon's covid jab hit me hard when I went to bed. I couldn't lie on my left side as the jabbed muscle was inflamed. I couldn't lie on my right side a torn ligament is painful. Lying flat on my back I dropped off but couldn't breathe properly, woke up with a loud snore to find my nose leaking blood. It was a shock, but the bleeding didn't last long. It was an uncomfortable night altogether, and I woke up feeling tired and ill - a nasty reaction to the vaccination - plus a stiff neck.
After breakfast, a phone call from a HMRC Help team member who guided me through reinstating my tax account. I explained that I was unwell, and he guided me with gentleness and patience through the tricky process of resetting the password to my Government Gateway account. It's such a relief to get this done.
A letter arrived from the Stroke Unit at Llandough hospital containing a questionnaire aiming to review my condition after six months in recovery. I wasn't impressed with the way questions were framed. There was nothing to enable a patient to report on the impact of medications taken, and the names of two mentioned did not fit what I was prescribed. I'll have to fill it in and append comments to clarify this box ticking exercise covering nine single sided A4 sheets of recycled paper. There was no place in the survey to mention visual impairment, surely a key issue in terms of confident mobility on foot, quite apart from fitness to drive.
Questions about bladder and bowel control were too vague to be of use if it's not an issue of weak muscle control, but of the destabilising effect of medication taken. Questions asked about the names of specialists making assessments were unanswerable months after the event. I found the whole process annoying. A lot of this information is in my medical record. Don't these teams consult each other? Or consult the hospital's computer system? No wonder some services in NHS Wales are in a mess.
I sat up in my armchair and dozed for an hour after lunch, then went out for some fresh air The cold wind was debilitating. I only walked for half an hour. The evening Mass of the Lord's Supper was at St Luke's, so I walked there for the seven o'clock service, at which Fr Jesse was the celebrant with a congregation of thirty. Appropriately, It got dark during the service. I didn't stay for the Vigil of the Passion, as I didn't feel well enough, and my legs felt a bit wobbly from sitting down for most of the day. I walked part of the way home with David, talking about our respective medication regimens and their unpleasant effects. It's what old men do I reckon, and I'm feeling old and tired today. I intended to watch a little of the Semana Santa processions in Malaga, but ran out of energy. I didn't get around to preparing the breakfast table before going to bed at ten.
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