Quitting in order to recover

Another dreadful night in which I woke up from a nightmare, and thought I heard Clare shouting in her sleep. The stimulus of this raised my pulse so I took a beta blocker. I slept badly, then posted today's YouTube link to WhatApp at six thirty and couldn't get back to sleep. It's definitely time to stop doing this. The stress of keeping to schedule is too demanding. After breakfast, I emailed Ruth and told her I was going to quit. I shall miss doing this. It's been part of the structure of my daily prayer life for the past six years, and I've gained a lot from doing this, but it's time to leave the production line.

I didn't feel well enough to go with Clare by taxi to Rumney for a hairdo appointment with Chris. I spent the morning in a sleep haze trying to recover. The only thing I did was prepare veggies for cooking lunch, then I went back to bed and did my best to relax and doze until Clare returned by bus. She had to complete meal as I lost focus on the task, having failed to absorb any idea of what the intended protein part of the meal was meant to be. Clare baked a handy small pizza, and opened a tin of mackerel to go with the veg. An element of chaos creeps in when I can't shake off fatigue. 

The nostril wound continues healing slowly. It's sensitive but not too painful, I must be careful not to knock my nose accidentally. It's another 25C humid day with cloud. Relieved that I have no need to be active or concentrate hard on any task. The more I succeed in relaxing, the more stoked up adrenalin can disperse and allow my blood pressure to stabilise.

America and Iran continue to be locked into exchanges of fire, with no progress on peace talks. America continues to threaten and escalate military action in an attempt to force Iran back into negotiations, but there's no credible strategy behind such coercive gestures. America can bomb bridges and desalination plants, but it doesn't win the war for them. It's a situation of stalemate from which neither side benefits. The war has cost America 37.5 billion dollars so far. Trump's popularity suffers from the economic impact of the price of oil. He believes and promotes his war as enjoying public support, whereas 60% of the public polled do not agree. It's even more unpopular than the Vietnam war was fifty years ago.

I stayed in during the heat of the afternoon doing very little apart from dozing in my arm chair and listening to the news. I've never known such a need to sleep. But then I did lose a lot of sleep when I was in A&E. I hope this is part of a natural recovery. Again after supper I dozed off as the sun was setting. I felt that a whole day without fresh air and exercise wouldn't do me any good, so I walked as far as 'The Half Way' pub and back to loosen my leg muscles and joints before getting ready for bed.

Burn-out

Another poor night's sleep, waking up prompted by my bladder as ever, but with a milder sort of adrenalin rush, if that makes sense as if a slow dispersal of pent up energy was occurring. The acupuncture point in the side of my left foot fired off with a surprising sharp pain at one stage, as if a needle had been inserted in it. It's a Xi point associated with kidney function, so something is working to my benefit. But brain fatigue, sleep loss and the impact of medication is hindering me from physical activity today. And it's warm with the occasional puff of cooling wind.

At eight o'clock a delivery of fish from Ashton's arrived. Clare spent an hour before breakfast unpacking and packaging it for freezing. Her study group arrived for a session after breakfast. Fran has a broken wrist in plaster following a long dragged out emergency treatment in which she was in agony and un-dealt with. I tucked myself away in the lounge and made an effort to continue editing audio for Wednesday's Morning Prayer. I've been too ill to complete it well in advance this week. 

It was a slow process as my co-ordination was poor, affecting my use of the mouse. Somehow concentration didn't fail me. I completed the sound edit, made the slide show video and posted the result to YouTube. It felt like working in a fog and it took me until after lunch to achieve the end result. I don't suppose anyone would mind if I didn't do it and just apologised, but it seems important for morale to continue having something to strive for and focus on, however modest. One way or another I think it's time to give up doing this, and reduce the pressure of having a regular creative commitment. I'm finding it too stressful to deliver in the wake of the awful A&E experience,

I paid my TV license on-line this morning. Not difficult, but six months ago, the trauma of losing control of accounts because of unnoticed errors prevented me from doing the most basic things on-line. Re-ordering the chaos of the past seven months of my life remains a work in progress.

We waited until early evening to go out for a walk, as the air began to cool down. We walked up and down Llandaff Fields. It was as much as Clare could cope with. I was tired too, so at sunset, it was time to start getting ready for bed.

Trump booed

Taking the beta blocker tablet before bed didn't make any difference to losing half a night's sleep, but I noticed that waking and getting up for a pee felt less stressful and I was quicker falling to sleep again each time. There's no escape from tiredness though, nor from diarrhea. Each of the medications I take has this effect on my bowels. All I can do is rest as much as possible and make sure to drink enough water. 

I woke up early enough to get in the telephone queue for a GP appointment, but my mind wasn't alert enough to work out what I needed to say and why I was calling, so I didn't bother. My nostril wound leaks less blood but stimulates mucus, enough to give me a runny nose. It's unnerving, as the sensation resembles a nose bleed starting which doesn't help me relax and rest. A runny nose cleans, protects and lubricates irritated areas around the wound while it's healing apparently.

Another blue sky day with high cloud, pleasantly warm at 23C. I didn't have much energy to do anything this morning. I arranged for someone else to look after this week's liturgical stand-in duties. I have to admit I'm not well. My head is not clear enough, my concentration is poor. I don't want to make a drama out of a celebration of the Holy Mysteries by making mistakes and losing my way during the service. 

I wrote a letter to the GP surgery asking if there would be follow-up consultation after discharge from A&E. I mentioned the negative impact different medications were having on me, and the difficulty I have waking up in time to book a surgery appointment. Easier to write it down than explain it over the phone.

I cooked rice for lunch with yellow courgettes, onions and mushrooms while Clare fried two chunks of cod. Everything seems to take a long time to do. It's not necessarily that I forget what I'm doing, but that my brain slows to a halt and I need to check what I'm doing.

Ashley phoned this afternoon. He's having trouble with a hernia, and expects to go into the UHW short stay surgical unit to have it repaired. I'm astonished at how long he's having to wait. I shouldn't have any trouble finding him there after my recent experience!

The Americans keep on bombing infrastructure in Iran. Iran retaliates with missiles on US military bases. Ships trying to get through the Straight of Hormuz are being fired upon. Iran's Houthi allies declare they will blockade Bab al Mandab, cutting off an oil transit route between the Arabian Peninsula and the Horn of Africa. This could have further repercussions for the price of oil. It could lead to further escalation by America. The rising number of injuries and deaths of American personnel in the Gulf will add to the unpopularity of this war in the USA. Ironically, Trump was booed by the crowd at a major World Cup football final event, though the war isn't the issue, but rather Trump's intrusion in a refereeing decision during the tournament, considered by some to be 'unfair'. Do football fans realise how unfair Trump's war already is for so many poor countries pushed into recession and famine by the choking of oil supplies?

Gratitude

Warm and cloudy today, 26C. Yet another restless night's sleep, walking early unable to doze. Medication made me feel worse than usual as is often the case. I was meant to take the beta blocker pill, but as it made me feel even sicker yesterday, I didn't take it. 

Last Sunday, I was in hospital, unable to attend Mass and receive the Sacrament. I was determined at all costs, to go to St Catherine's for the Parish Eucharist today, grateful to God for having survived a week which felt life threatening at times. I made sure not to push myself, leaving early before Clare for a change, and not rushing. Fr Rhys celebrated. We had a helpful conversation after the service and he gave me a lift home. Clare cooked pasta and prawns for lunch. 

I slept for more than an hour after we'd eaten, feeling lethargic and drugged. Then I walked up and down Llandaff Fields for an hour, resting at every bench, to make sure I didn't overdo it. I thought my head was a bit clearer so I recorded the next Morning Prayer reflection and office. I wanted to edit the audio there and then, but wasn't able to continue. The stimulus of concentration probably pushed up my blood pressure, and wiped out the positive effect of fresh air and exercise. It made me realise that I'm not well enough to do any duty cover while Sion is away without putting myself at risk so I wrote to him and to Fr Andrew to  explain.

I took the last of the antibiotics this evening, started when my nose was plugged to prevent infection. My stomach and taste buds will benefit from completing the course. The essential clot dispersal medication continues to make life a misery. I'll take the beta blocker as I go to bed to find out what effect this has in reducing the impact of adrenalin generated by concentrating hard, or by being awakened by a full bladder.

Beta Blockers

Another hot night of very poor sleep, disturbed  not only by my bladder but by the need to take sips of water as my mouth dried out and made it hard to swallow. My nostrils aren't as congested now, so it's easier to breathe with my mouth shut - if only my mouth wouldn't fall open when I'm asleep, drying out the saliva in my mouth! The introduction of beta blocking meds curbs the fluctuation in my blood pressure and this helps the nostril wound to stop bleeding and dry out. It leaks blood diluted with saliva which gets paler as the wound slowly dries out. The more I breathe through my nostrils the better. Unfortunately side effects of Beta Blockers are sleepiness dizziness and nausea, leaving me feeling even more unwell than the other drugs that have the same effect. Added to the effect of lost sleep and heat, it was a miserable morning in which I could do very little. I didn't feel well or safe enough on my feet to go out for a walk, but I managed to cook a veggie sugo to to accompany tortellini for lunch,

Thin high cloud today, not quite as hot as yesterday, but still humid. Reports of wildfires coming in from parched uplands in Britain are causing concern over biodiversity loss. Canadian wildfires produce a smoke haze affecting American cities. Trump is using this as an excuse for imposing more trade tariffs on Canada for 'filthy air', ignoring the tangible evidence of global heating due to fossil fuel use. His own 'drill baby drill' political slogan exacerbates the crisis, ignoring the reality facing the world. 

Meanwhile Iran and America exchange military strikes for the seventh night in a row, with Iran attacking US Middle Eastern allies in retaliation, and effectively retaining control of the Straight of Hormuz. Two US servicemen are killed in Iranian strikes on Jordan. Given the unpopularity of this war in the USA this won't go down well with the electorate.

I spent much of the afternoon dozing but went to the Coop for Kefir and bananas at teatime. Examining the change in my pocket the tiny tigers' eye pebble given me by Rachel slipped through my fingers and disappeared into a pile of dried leaves. I felt sad to lose this, symptomatic of drugged state of awareness.

It seems that Beta Blockers suppress the adrenaline response to reduce blood pressure. If only I could have had an acupuncture treatment a few times in hospital instead. Anyway I've been in touch with Peter, and will see him in the coming week.

An interesting programme about Leonardo da Vinci on TV tonight, not that I could share my concentration between watching and writing. I'm just too tired.

Soporific heat

I was horrified when I got into bed last night to see that my ankles were swollen. I felt too ill to go out for a walk yesterday. As it was 30C into the evening, I didn't want to take any risks. The problem with meds I take is they impair my sensory awareness and slow my reactions and heart rate. I might not notice quickly enough that my body is overheating. I instinctively become extra cautious, not wanting to make things worse. My ankles paid the price for languishing all day without exercise. When I woke up in the night no swelling was visible. 

I didn't get enough sleep to recover any of the past week's lost hours, but don't feel as bad as yesterday, but I notice a slow-down in my short term memory. Clare cooked a savoury soy protein dish for lunch with cabbage, sweet potatoes, spuds and butternut squash. By tea time I struggled to recall anything about the meal, until an image of boiled cabbage sprang into my mind's eye. From that I was able to remember the content of the meal. It's disconcerting. Is this pure fatigue or the impact of the new beta blocker meds. 

I slept in snatches after lunch. When I went out for a walk at tea-time, my right ankle was acutely painful to start with. My leg muscles and joints were also painful. I returned home and rested, then went out again. My leg muscles hurt even more, as if I'd pushed too hard when I hadn't. Several days of limited mobility are robbing me of my general fitness at the moment. 

I had a lengthy exchange with my niece Nicky about high blood pressure, and particularly about how ill beta blocking medications make you feel and how upsetting for the stomach many medications can be. She's soon to become a granny for the first time. Time to wish her good health, so she can enjoy it. Rachel called, rehearsing her arrival plans for a fortnight's time. Bob, her ex-father in law, celebrates his 100th birthday the evening she lands and she's been invited.

River of calm and kindness

A warm night and a poor night's sleep, although that may be from wearing my Fitbit too loosely to record any data that makes sense. Awake in time for Thought for the Day and a more complex routine of medication at breakfast time. The beta blockers add to the existing lethargic foggy head sensation, and slow my pulse. The leak from my nose wound continues to dry slowly and reassuringly, so the systolic pressure reduction remedy has worked.

Despite being more hard of hearing than I, Clare noticed the high pitched alarm sounding from the fridge freezer, which lost temperature overnight. Initially I didn't hear it due to my tinnitus being louder. Clare called British Gas services to arrange an emergency call out. Two hours after noticing it the alarm stopped. One tub of posh ice cream lost. It seems a bag of something in our over-packed freezer caught in the door seal, allowing the heat leak, and it was a hot night, 30C this morning. Fortunately the refrigeration unit worked. It wasn't broken, but took its time getting back down to 18C. Thankfully the pump  kept working and didn't overheat. Clare was able to call off a diagnostic visit, but we ended by signing up for a household maintenance package for emergency cover.

Half a morning, half asleep while Clare went shopping. I cooked Paella for lunch with the half defrosted pack of fish pie mix and used up the remains of a bag of Valencian rice from Mercadona from our trip to stay with Veronica a year ago. Another hot afternoon, languishing indoors, sleeping uncomfortably in my armchair, too lethargic to go upstairs to bed. 

Updating my cousin Dianne on course of events gave me an opportunity to reflect on the oft-commented emergency medical crisis - having been on the receiving end. A&E seems to surf on the edge of chaos, brilliantly fielding the new intake of suffering patients, facing logistic challenges, shifting them asap, which can be an excruciatingly long wait in noisy places. I was admitted at two in the morning parked in a kids' treatment room, missed by the half awake breakfast team. I got NHS cheese and ham sandwich packs instead at lunchtime. 

Shifted to a transfusion 'lounge' for a few hours, with several quite poorly people, then decanted to a surgical couch waiting room overnight - my first visit to this place was when I had my gall bladder out, six months before the stroke and a previous nose bleed. Then, up a few floors to the same day emergency surgery unit. That was where we had to evacuate a few hours later, due to a MRI scanner electrical fire in 32C heat. Once re-instated, getting back to recover any kind of sleep was continued torture - England v Norway football made staff and patients hyper and loud. But staff continued keeping an eye on patients anyway, enjoying the mildly festive moment. That was where I was for a couple of days until further surgery was avoided by introducing beta blockers to curb my high blood pressure reaction to a stressful environment, driving the nose bleed. 

Yes it was slow and unpleasant, losing so much sleep, yes there were times when the staff seemed a bit chaotic or communicating poorly, but the whole process worked, inevitably in fits and starts. Including random and planned moves. Hard to be on the receiving end when you can't attract attention, then get woken up from recovery sleep every four hours for a BP check. Time seems to stand still as you wait, but it resembles a river or a flood, lots of movement simultaneously, not always in the same direction.

A man of my age with verbal diarrhea, talked unstoppably with a teacher's voice for 18 hours. He was losing his home as he couldn't look after himself. The conversation with his night nurse was moving. She showed him such good humoured kindness and respect, even though he was irritating half a dozen others in the same ward. There was no other place to park his bed and keep an eye on him. A sacred moment, overhearing such a conversation.

Once I'd been stabilised and the nose pack removed, I was issued with a take home bag of medications and allowed to call for a taxi to take me home. Clare came for me. As I left the ward, the team on duty bade me farewell with smiles and looks of achievement on their faces, some of them I'd seen several times in the previous days. I wish I could have said more than a mere 'thank you' as I left. Patients arriving in A&E are likely to be in a mess physically if not emotionally due to accident, injury or illness. The treatment process carries them, finds them a safe place and starts them on the way to recovery with calm respectful words, maybe even a touch of humour. A river of calm and kindness flows through the hospital at every level. I wonder if we fully appreciate it?

A day spent inactive, inert, dozing, coming out of crisis mode, getting used to a new medication regimen. Maybe after more sleep my head fog will go away.

Discharged

My blood pressure lowered overnight and isn't as volatile now. After breakfast, I was relocated in a ward up on the sixth floor. It was possible to look down from that height on a helicopter landing on the A&E helipad. I don't think there's air-conditioning here as windows were kept open overnight. A bit noisy and polluting high above the A48, but the breeze was definitely cooling in the small hours.

One of the ENT medics deflated the nose pack and removed it briskly without too much pain, confident the blood flow from the wound would reduce to a trickle. washed out by mucus in the coming days. I'll be kept an eye on for 24 hours to ensure all is going to plan, then discharged. 

A nurse with pharmacy duties delivered me a big bag of medications old and new. I took time organising them and their dosage on a phone spreadsheet. 

There were several elderly sick men with organ or mobility issues on this ward whose treatment plans and discharge plans are more complex to arrange than mine. One of them, with a teacher's voice talks audibly and constantly. I'm not sure if he speaks into his 'phone or if it's a stream of consciousness conversation with a person remembered. In much of the discourse he tells stories. He was treated for constipation, but it released more energy to give him verbal diarrhea. Non-stop, all night. The real life conversation he had with a night nurse was movingly kind on her part. It could have been from a script for a Radio Four play. Needless to say, I slept badly. Some of the talk is about his home being sold without his consent. Voicing his loss of control due to infirmity. I experienced that sense of loss of control after the stroke. It's a struggle if cognition is impaired, Medication can have the same effect.

Mid-morning, the cannula was removed from my left wrist and the discharge bag of medication checked. I called Clare, who came by taxi to collect me. The punishing routine throughput of emergency doctors and nurses must be tiring. I'm amazed and very grateful when I see them wave farewell to departing patients with smiles of satisfied pleasure on their faces. From the moment of admission onwards after a medical crisis there are so many possibilities of chaos to be coped with in complex and difficult cases. Focus on the moment and the eventual outcome is essential. If the backlog of patients drops by even a small number it's a job well done.

Good to return home, more or less stable now, despite the chemical fog in my head and metallic taste of antibiotics on my tongue. Fish pie for lunch, in hospital and at home. Clare's was better.  At 30C It was too hot to go for a walk in my present condition feeling fragile exhausted and drugged up. I slept a little, occasionally, and made an effort to stick to my medication timetable. My hand-eye co-ordination is chaotic leading to time consuming typos. The nostril bleed is slowly drying, and will need extra care to avoid a repeat. "It's like living on the edge of a crumbling precipice." as I said to niece Veronica. Bed now

No peace in hospital during the World Cup

It was impossible to settle down to sleep last night. My head felt as if it was aching, about to explode. The systolic lowering meds took time to act. The real problem was the excited chatter of medics and patients responding to the England v Norway World Cup match. Not just that noise but the careless banging shut of pedal bins and automatic doors banging open late at night No wonder my blood pressure doesn't drop and my nose still drips blood, but it's less painful now. Dealing with echoes of trauma from the experience being violated by emergency treatment last time this happened made things painfully worse last year has to be faced, like it or not.

I push back and complain if I'm disturbed from a snatch of relaxed sleep. I insist on retaining control of habitual self medication to impose structure on the day, otherwise it becomes an incoherent blur. I had a good chat with the medicators, necessary for them to understand that I haven't lost my grip on the process.

 I still can't pray more than a few remembered words and phrases at a time. Concentration is often foggy, drug impaired. Eyes water making reading difficult on times. Such a relief when the lights were finally dimmed after supper and some degree of peace and quiet descended. 

Fire emergency at UHW

Only a few hour's dozing. The noise on the ward of staff conversations through the night and automatic doors next to my bed crashing open violently at random times overnight was enough to ensure my blood pressure remained dangerously high. I can't recall feeling as ill as this before. Being disturbed from semi consciousness every four hours and having the monitor cuff over-inflated on my strained upper right arm was painful and contributed to a doubtful reading of my state when not being violated by this device. Stupid compliance to routine, not patient care. My muted cries of pain ignored.

I was overtaken by diharrea on my way to the toilet, abd had to borrow hospital pants a bit too small for me.

Clare brought in spares after lunch plus chargers and mail.

It's Sunday. I asked Rhys to arrange a Communion visit. No result. I could hardly do anything apart from doze. I couldn't read the office or liturgy of the Word. All I could do was entrust myself to being held in the moment and carried, with few if any words of prayer. No expectations, or consolations, just gratitude for each moment of need met by strangers in hospital uniform. A dark night for the mortal coil if not the soul. I was reminded of my covid exile in Ibiza when my surgical wound got infected.

End of the morning the ENT resident doctor visited, and engaging attractive woman with whom I had a good clear conversation about my hypersensitivity to a stressful environment boosting my blood pressure. She prescribed a pill that would reduce my systolic reading. The diastolic reading is OK-ish it seems. Within an hour of taking the first pill, and having supper omelette and chips, the fire alarm went off. I was half asleep by then, It was agonisingly loud. I took off instinctively fleeing the noise out of the first floor ward and walking down to the upper ground floor entrance bare footed, the acrid fumes of an electrical fire in the air. One of the scanners in medical physics had overheated due to the 30C heat. 

My phone wasset to 'do not disturb'.  It was an hour later Matthew, a ward orderly tracked me down standing near a staircase entrance and exit with fresh air blowing in. Hospital radio chuntered on, with nothing useful to say that could ease the situation with advice to patients and staff to keep phones on and go on foot as lifts were out of action. 

I watched the fire brigade arrive, all six machines and their amazingly fit teams in heavy gear despite the heat. The alarms stayed active for another hour although it was by then safe for Matthew to escort me via the back stairs to return to the ward. It was providential the systolic lowering drug was already taking effect. It was nearly sunset already. It was still noisy on the ward. Without ear plugs and a blindfold it would have been unbearable.

Bloody hell again

I went to bed at eleven and was awakened by a nose bleed at one.The carotid artery in my left jaw was trapped by a firm pillow when I fell asleep. I accidentally switched off the power extension for my bedside lamp and had to grope around in the dark to find the nain light switch holding a bucket in my hand to catch the blood. Amazingly There were no blood drops on the floor. It  was unstoppable and Clare called a taxi to go to UHW at three. My worst fear repeating itself. 

The A&E doctor who treated me was gentle, thorough and considerate. The nostril needed an inflatable plug - my horror from last time, but use of a suitable snalgaesic made the pain bearable. 

I spent the night in a kids' treatment room. All that was available. Clare returned home once she kniw I had been stabilised. I slept very little and missed the breakfast trolley. A patient sleeping iin the kids's room wasn't flagged up. Breakfast caught up with me two hours later - cheese and ham sandwiches. Then I could take my meds without distress to my stomach. I dozed on snd off until moved into a room to wait for arrangements to be made to relocate me to the short stay surgical unit to assess the outcome of the nose plug. It was teatime before this happened. Clare had visited with clean clothes and other things on my emergency hospital list texted to her. 

I'm tired stressed out with interrogation by nurses, and my blood pressure is so high they are worried.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Dangerous heat

A good night's sleep, waking up in glorious sunshine with a cloudless sky, 30C rising to 35C. Medication leaves me feeling light headed and drowsy. It affects my hand-eye coordination too, judging by the typos I have to correct. I stayed indoors and gave my feet some attention - hard skin on the ball of my foot and toe nails in need of trimming. I can still bend down to do this, though some muscle groups threaten to go into spasm unless I take plenty of time and care when twisting and bending down. It saves me the hassle of making a podiatrist appointment. Advice about side effect of using Dipyridamole indicates it may reduce blood pressure, accounting for disconcerting symptoms I have to put up with daily. High blood pressure and nose bleeds were the bane of my life for decades. I used to be at risk from nose bleeds while bending down to cut my toe nails, but so far so good.

Amnesty International has denounced Israeli military actions in Lebanon as war crimes, given the number of unarmed civilians, women and children, murdered in the IDF's war against Hezbollah. Equally disturbing are the attacks on Palestinian West Bank villages by Israeli settler gangs protected by the IDF. Ethnic cleansing by any other name. 

Wildfires in Almería Province have killed at least a dozen people with double that number missing. A couple of people were found in a burned out right hand drive car at Los Galliardos, 10km from Mojácar. It's an area I remember from locum duty stays ten years ago, with a sizeable resident community of ex-pats as well as holidaymakers. 

Clare fell asleep when she returned from shopping. I had been writing while she was out and didn't notice the passage of time until I started to feel extra light headed rather than hungry. I hastened to make a lunch of couscous with frozen veg and prawns, almost dizzy with slow reactions. Luckily I didn't make a mess of cooking and it turned out as intended. It bothers me that the medication has such a drastic impact on my ability to cope. So glad I don't have to drive any more.

I walked in the heat for half an hour before supper and walked again for three quarters of an hour after supper when the air was cooling at sunset in an attempt to clear my head, which has been dull and foggy for much of the day. I can't tell if this is due to the heat alone or the effect of medication and heat. I drink plenty of water and tea, but tired legs seem inescapable. I drop off to sleep a couple of times during the day if I sit down and relax for a while after a period of activity. My heart rate isn't noticeably high or low during exercise, but at the end of the day I feel like I've run a marathon and don't stay awake for long once I get into bed. I wish I could make sense of all this.

Defiant in grief

Another hot sunny day with a clear sky. I  slept fairly well despite being woken up several times by gut pains, possibly from eating too much acidic sauerkraut. Shoulder pain is not so strong now. I remembered to use anti inflammatory gel before getting into bed. The clot busting meds continue to make me feel unwell, drowsy, slow reacting and stiff. I don't think the heat improves matters. I make an effort to stay active mentally and try not to push myself too hard physically.

After breakfast, I started recording audio for next week's Morning Prayer while Clare was out shopping. It's rarely quiet by day in our neighbourhood as the background sound of power tools or hammering from building or maintenance projects plus vehicle noises is annoyingly pervasive. it would be better to record at night, but I'm too tired late in the day. Anyway I was able to record and edit out most background sound while Clare cooked lunch, and then made the video slideshow for uploading to YouTube after we'd eaten.

I went out for a long slow walk in the shade of the trees in Llandaff Fields The temperature was 31C and there was almost no breeze. After an early supper I went to St Catherine's, as choir practice was taking place at seven, giving me an opportunity to go into church and hunt for my missing spec's. A thorough search of the chancel, choir and side aisle where I may have dropped them yielded nothing. So where else might I have dropped them? I retraced my steps home, feeling drained by the heat, no sight of the spec's anywhere. Then when I stepped through the door I thought - what if they fell out of my pocket when I put the jacket on when I left for church? And that led me to find them, lodged out of sight in one of Clare's ankle boots in the shoe rack! What a relief!

Millions attended the burial of Ayatollah Khamenei at the shrine of Imam Reza in Mashhad in Iran. Meanwhile Iranian missiles have hit Jordan, Bahrain, Qatar and Oman in retaliation for American strikes on Iranian targets following Iran's assertion of control over the Straight of Hormuz. Determined defiance regardless of the cost.

The air cooled a little as the sun neared the horizon, so I went out and walked around the block to get a breath of fresh air before getting ready for bed.

Truce over

A comfortably warm good night's sleep and I woke up feeling clear and sharp, but again the medication made me feel drowsy, slightly unsteady. I posted today's WhatsApp link to Morning Prayer on YouTube before getting up for breakfast. I left for the Eucharist at St Catherine's in what I thought was enough time to be punctual I arrived a couple of minutes late, despite walking at what I thought was a brisk pace. Does this drowsiness affect my sense of pace as well as slow down my reactions? 

We were a dozen at the service. I bought courgettes grown in the church garden afterwards. I made an effort to walk home at a brisk pace and noticed I wasn't quite so drowsy when I got home, so I took charge of cooking lunch - fish with a big yellow courgette along with new potatoes and carrots. You can't get much fresher than that!

Rachel called us at lunchtime, and we chatted for an hour. She was driving north on a desert road at first light. She's investigating a possible move to Washington State for a live-in carer's job that will enable her to perform gigs when she's off duty. It's so hot in Arizona that the hours before sunrise are the coolest time of day for safe driving. It's cooler up north, the climate will suit her better. I hope it works out for her.

After church I couldn't find my reading spec's despite searching high and low for them. I found the case for them hanging from my sleeveless jacket top pocket, and deduced that when I knelt for Communion I was holding on to the Communion rail as my legs were stiff and unsteady, I may have expelled them from the pocket without realising. I called Clive to borrow a key to retrieve them, but he insisted on hunting for them himself as he lives close by. Two other pairs of reading glasses were retrieved from the choir stall where I was sitting, but neither of them belonged to me. They are probably hiding in plain sight on the sanctuary floor. I'll pick them up tomorrow when the church is open for choir practice.

I went out for exercise late afternoon and called in Tesco's to buy some flowers for Clare. It was just about bearable at 30C. I don't know how Rachel copes in 40C heat, it's not her natural environment. She prefers real fresh air to air conditioning. I went out again after supper and walked and down Llandaff Fields. The warm evening air was pleasantly fragrant with the scent of lime trees and mown grass.

Ships using the Straight of Hormuz have been fired on. America has retaliated by striking coastal targets in Iran. Truce talks have stopped and war has resumed with Trump declaring the cease-fire is over, the aim being to degrade Iran's ability to prevent shipping from transiting the Straight. I don't suppose it will be long before American allies in the Gulf are attacked again by Iran. How long before Congress reacts to the huge expense of this aggression by refusing to approve further military action? How long before the price of oil rises and exacerbates the economic crisis already precipitated by Trump's war?

 

Patronage under scrutiny

Another warm day under a clear blue sky. I slept for long enough though not well enough to improve sleep quality. I forgot to rub my strained shoulder joint with anti inflammatory gel before bed. It hurt each time I got up for a pee in the night and as I returned to sleep. Getting started after breakfast and medication was daunting due to drowsiness that's hard to shake off. Concentration becomes an effort. Clare's study group meeting this morning was thrown into chaos as Fran fell and broke her wrist and needed to go to A&E. It meant others couldn't attend, who usually get a lift from her, except Ruth who came with her own car. 

The Council's digital parking permit app, proved unworkable on Clare's phone, likewise the telephone payment service. Clare emailed the parking permit office to report this. This digital permit system discriminates against any person who has difficulty using phone apps for whatever reason, and there is no alternative. It is possible to park 5-10 minutes walk away in a place where there's a physical parking meter, but this  discriminates against people with mobility limitations. It's scandalous.

I went to Tesco's for groceries after lunch. It was hard going with a loaded rucksack, walking with stiff legs in the heat. It was 23C this afternoon and likely to continue warm for days to come. The drowsiness and slight unsteadiness on my feet didn't leave me until mid-afternoon. I was ready for a walk by then, and walked for nearly an hour before supper. It wasn't enough to complete my daily step goal, so I went out again afterwards, ostensibly to buy some bananas, which I forgot about earlier. I feel I have to push back against the awful lethargy the medication produces, even if it means being patient with myself and waiting until my head clears enough for me to feel safe on my feet.

Nigel Farage has been under public scrutiny over financial support received for his political campaigning from Christopher Harborne, a crypto billionaire investing in military technology. It now emerges that Harborne was also quietly generous to Boris Johnson during his time as a parliamentarian. He had vested interests in advocating Brexit as well as being a stake holder in the defence industry. 

Farage resigned his parliamentary seat intending to stand as a Reform candidate in a by-election he forces, anticipating a populist show of support by being re-elected. The other political parties have declared they won't stand against him. If he is returned to Parliament, he cannot evade being held to account over the issues that face him at present. He may end up being deprived of his seat anyway. Another of his financial backers has been convicted of fraud. Farage frames himself as an anti-establishment candidate, but will voters see through his posturing and endorse his effort to ensure a wealthy elite retain power without accountability in the shady background of public life?

 

Foolish Meddling

A cloudy day with a mild wind. I slept well having got to bed earlier than usual after reading for a while. I wasn't spared the medication impact however. I read about the way the Dipyridamole clot dispersal drug acts. It seems it lowers blood pressure and can cause dizziness. It makes me feel drowsy if I've slept badly, light headed not quite dizzy, but more like it's interfering with my sensory awareness, detaching me from my environment. It's unnerving and unpleasant. 

I didn't feel like going out, and spent the morning exchanging emails with Sara about sleep quality. Clare made curried veg with chick peas and rice for lunch. I made an effort to fight drowsiness and not doze off after lunch, preparing the Wednesday Morning Prayer text for the week after next, before going for a walk, thinking about a biblical reflection on Luke's account of the Jesus' apocalyptic teaching, which I committed to writing after supper while Clare was out at choir practice.

Trump has turned his attention to meddling in the disciplinary affairs of the football World cup, after an American player was penalised then suspended from playing in another game. World football authority FIFA has lifted the suspension after Trump expressed his opinion that it was 'unfair'. Adherence to the rules of the game is essential to honourable football matches. Not that players don't try and bend the rules or find other ways to get away with breaking them. Fair play relies on respect for the referee's authority and the agreed rules convention. 

He places himself above the rules, he thinks of himself as the ultimate arbiter. I don't suppose there are many prepared to challenge him while World Cup football is based in the Americas, too much is invested in the success of this sporting spectacular. It will be interesting to see what happens when it's all over and nobody feels the need to appease this fake messiah any longer. I hope that by that time, it's possible the mid term elections deliver a verdict on him which will drain him of all authority to play messiah, in every sphere of influence he thinks he has, one way or another.

Millions of Iranians have rallied for the funeral of Ayatollah Khamenei in Tehran, an immense show of solidarity despite all the country has suffered. Iran still has the strategic advantage, despite Trump and Netanyahu's four months of warmongering. 

There's no doubt that the Islamic Republic is a cruel tyrannical regime. If anything, regime change has resulted in an even more hard line regime dictating terms to the world and Iran's people, not just America and Israel. This war has cut off fertilizer supplies through the Straight of Hormuz to some of the world's most needy countries, threatening harvests for 45 million people. Will Trump brag about this to his MAGA supporters?

Losing track

A warm and windy day under a thin layer of cloud. I slept well, over eight hours and don't understand why I was left feeling drowsy. We went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's after breakfast. Yesterday's Summer Fayre raised over three thousand pounds we were told, and the turnout was remarkably good, helped by the fine weather. A young girl about eleven years old read the Epistle, a difficult passage to make sense of, from St Paul's letter to the Romans. She did well, and despite stumbling on one really tricky sentence, she stopped and corrected herself without faltering. I was impressed, and told her so over coffee afterwards.

A quick visit to the Co-op for wine and kefir on the way home, then we had tasty filleted sardines poached with a little olive oil for lunch. I couldn't shake off the drowsiness and dozed in my armchair for half an hour while my smart watch charged. When I went out for a walk I forgot to put the watch back on and had to resort to my phone's pedometer app to check how far I walked. I try to cover five miles each day to make sure I make the physical effort on those days when my leg muscles are tired and stiff or drowsiness and lethargy deprive me of motivation to exercise. I walked in Llandaff Fields and in Thompson's Park with a tea break in between. I know how much I need to keep moving for the good of my heart and physical mobility. It's hard to get back if you lose the habit.

After supper, my head cleared sufficiently enough to read another chapter from 'El Amor in los Tiempos del Colera'. It's slow going. Sometimes I need to savour the humour and insight of Gabriel Garcia's Marquez writing, looking up as few as possible words I don't know. I'd rather do that than buy an English translation. This way it's more of a voyage of discovery.

Another anniversary day to recall

A warm day 21C with a breeze from the west driving clouds across the sky. Shoulder pain robbed me of an hour's sleep again. Despite the heat I don't sweat enough during the day to reduce the frequency of having to get up to empty my bladder. I long for a really decent night of uninterrupted sleep. 

It's Kath and Anto's 34th wedding anniversary today. Lovely memories of a big family gathering in Pontyclun. It was the first time a video of such a family occasion was made by Brian the husband of my cousin Ros. It wasn't long before Clare's mother died in that year when we moved to Geneva. How few of the people in that video are still alive. I found the digital album of photos taken with my old Praktika SLR camera. Lovely photos showing how sharp photos taken with a post war Zeiss lens and Kodak Ektachrome film could be.

Niece Veronica posted video of a wildfire in her district of Catalunya. A concert performance her choir was about to give had to be cancelled, along with the meal for a hundred to follow. Bomberós crews fighting the fire benefited from the banquet instead. A nice touch.

It's St Catherine's Summer Fayre today. Clare baked a fruit loaf and a cake yesterday, and took them down to church before lunch. We went to the Fayre mid afternoon. The church grounds were busy, noisy with kids being entertained, a good atmosphere. I wasn't best equipped to enjoy the event as brain fatigue sensitized me to the chaos of sound and movement and stressed me out, so I went home and tried to rest. Later I walked in the quiet of Llandaff Fields and tried to clear my foggy brain with little success. 

We had a chat with Rachel after supper, which cheered us up. I made a video slideshow for next Wednesday's Morning Prayer and uploaded to YouTube, then got ready for bed, hoping for a better night. 

Schism

Cloudy and mild to start the day, but a warm wind blew away the clouds and sent the temperature up to 23C. It wasn't humid overnight. I slept quite well and woke up with a clear head. If only I could succeed in getting a succession of good nights of sleep I think it would boost my recovery. Often I feel as if I'm at a standstill just treading water but not sinking so to speak. Having said that, others say they notice an improvement in me. It's a battle against physical and mental tiredness. Making sure not to skimp on sleep time and quality is vital.

Yesterday the Vatican declared the traditionalist Catholic faction known as the Society of St Pius the tenth (aka SSPX) to be in schism and excommunicate for ordaining four bishops without papal mandate. Pope Leo appealed to the group not to do so for the sake of Christian unity, but they went ahead anyway. Based at Econe in the Swiss Valais, SSPX started as a fraternity of traditionalist clergy who opposed the liberal drift of second Vatican Council teachings, rejecting the Missa Normativa in favour of the old Tridentine Latin rite of Mass. 

Pope Benedict didn't suppress SSPX but made concessions to avoid schism, and appease conservative Catholics. Fifty years later, the traditionalist Bishops associated with SSPX are dying off. New bishops were needed to continue a mission extending beyond conservative clergy to a growing group of laity. Unilateral action by SSPX establishing independent leadership sets up a 'church within the church' an act of schism.  

It's interesting to note that Switzerland was one of the places where there was schism in reaction to the declaration of the dogma of Papal Infallibility in 1870, leading to the foundation of the Christian Catholic Church of Switzerland and the Old Catholic Church of the Utrecht Union. Both are strongly associated with the Anglican Communion. Conservative evangelicals within Anglicanism, having taken a strong position against liberal theology, oppose gay marriage and women's ordination, some of them siding with Anglo-Catholic traditionalists, but for different reasons. Maybe schismatic moves are inevitable on the long term journey of Christians learning to live together with differences in a world whose agenda is different from how it was in centuries past. Adherence to religious faith and support for historic institutional churches continues to decline. Is this exacerbated by lack of unity and consensus in witness and mission? At least Christians aren't persecuting each other under state patronage any longer, with a few exceptions maybe. 

Christian factions today may or may not discuss their differences in a way that commends faith to others. Seekers after a life of faith may fail to find the discussion relevant, meaningful or attractive. Our world is going through a huge phase of cultural upheaval, questioning and redefining meaning and purpose in all kinds of ways. Can Churches and interpreters of Christianity engage constructively in dialogue in this secular materialistic ethos, and move beyond talking among themselves about things that are of little concern to others? 

Clare cooked tagliatelli with a veggie sugo for lunch. I don't know why, but I started to feel tired after the meal and slept for half an hour. It didn't do me much good however. When I walked to the Post Office to bank a cheque I felt a bit unsteady. My balance and strength were OK but my legs felt wobbly, as if I was close to the end of a long distance run. I sat down to rest and dozed off for another twenty minutes. I've been sleepy headed all day for no reason I can understand. It's perplexing and frustrating.

After supper, I watched another couple of episodes of 'Panda', uninspiring detective romantic comedy fiction. Then bed. 

Inconvenient shopping

A warm day with a blue sky. I didn't sleep well as my strained right shoulder was painful when I moved in bed, disturbing my rest. At least my head was clear. I had a dental appointment at ten, and took a taxi to get to Llandaff North as I wasn't prepared to rely on buses. The taxi deposited me at the dental practice in good time, and I was seen immediately. I had to report to the dentist about my stroke medication. Apart from de-scaling, my teeth didn't require any other attention. I didn't have to wait long for a bus to take me to Llandaff Fields, but it took me twice as long for the return trip, as temporary traffic signals were in use adding to rush hour congestion. 

Owain returned to Bristol shortly after I returned, needing to make the most of his few remaining days of leave. It's pleasing to see him in good form at the moment, enjoying his job and success with his techno record label. He's involved with his apartment block tenants association in a technically difficult to navigate situation regarding property management. His analytic skills acquired as a civil servant are proving useful, and giving him confidence in supporting a tenants' initiative. I'm proud of him.

Clare cooked a chick pea curry for lunch. I went to Tesco's afterwards to buy a few items on her shopping list. She wanted some baking powder, and although she showed me the empty container, it was a challenge to locate it on the 'Baking' supplies shelf. Sometimes I have difficulty identifying products if shelf position or label design has changed. If I've seen something I usually remember it. Today I came across a printed label on a shelf, but no baking powder visible behind it just a space which looked empty but wasn't in fact. The cardboard tray holding half a dozen packs appeared empty until I bent down and peered into the void behind the label. The sole remaining pack was there, right at the back of the shelf, and I had to pull out the almost empty tray to retrieve the remaining one. 

Little details of stock shelf management like this can add to the frustration of shopping, especially if you're visually impaired or have problems bending down to look. I've had similar issues in small Co-op stores where products are packed on shelves at levels that make it difficult to identify what you're searching for, due to the way they are arranged. It must be hard for wheel chair or buggy users to go shopping. People have to stand and stare, maybe bend down and block aisles that are too narrow. It's not a spacious big supermarket issue, but a disadvantage of mini-markets and convenience stores.

I walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour before supper and afterwards watched the last couple of episodes of 'Blanca'. An interesting idea, to have a blind police woman with extraordinary skills in listening and detecting what is happening. The background story however, was convoluted, increasingly melodramatic adding nothing of real interest to the story of a highly functional disabled woman in an all male workplace. The acting was wooden, more an exercise in posing before the camera in scenic settings with anguished faces. It was followed by the first ever episode of 'Astrid - Murder in Paris'. Oh no, not again! It must be time for bed. 

Birthday visit

A warm day, clouds and sunshine. I woke up in time to hear 'Thought for the Day', then posted today's link to my YouTube Morning Prayer video on the Parish WhatsApp prayer thread. It's Owain's 48th birthday today so I sang 'Happy Birthday' to him on WhatsApp. Another night of broken sleep left me feeling half awake and unwell with a foggy head. It was an effort to get myself to the Eucharist at Saint Catherine's after breakfast. There were six of us today. 

When I got home I cooked rice, butternut squash and carrots with mackerel for lunch, then I walked to Parkwood Clinic for acupuncture with Peter which cleared the brain fog, but didn't entirely disperse that 'toxic head' sensation. I've no idea what I do differently to cause me to have such bad days when I'm getting plenty of rest, if not proper sleep.

Owain arrived at tea time to spend his birthday and stop with us overnight. Clare produced a surprise candle bedecked chocolate cake and a glass of Cava to welcome him. Later, we went out to supper at Stefano's. Owain watched World Cup football on the Chromebook until he started to fall asleep. Then it was time for bed for all of us.