Messages about messages

Cloudy and damp today. I slept quite well and remained clear headed after waking up and taking my pills with breakfast. My Fitbit sleep tracker reports that I sleep better with fewer interruptions in the first half of the night. Wakefulness in the second half is due to medication induced churning bowels and trapped wind. Winding down and going to bed earlier seems to be worth the effort.

I had a notification from the NHS app when I switched on my phone. On logging in, another notification stated that I would expect to receive a letter by mail from the GP surgery. It was unclear what this is about. A waiting list was mentioned at the top of the notification, but which waiting list? For what purpose?  This assumes I know I'm on a waiting list but doesn't take into account the fact that I may be on several waiting lists for different things at the same time. No matter how smart the communications technology may be, if the message conveyed leaves you guessing it's useless. Another instance of 'Garbage in, garbage out'.

Clare went to her study group in Penarth this morning and I cooked sausages and veg for lunch. She went out again by taxi straight after we'd eaten for a clinic appointment at Llandough. I stayed in to welcome the meditation group she belongs to, meeting chez nous today, double booked accidentally. There were just three of us, sitting in silence together for half an hour with the words 'love wins'. I sat with my eyes open, gaze directed without inquiring or reflecting towards a leather pouffe opposite my armchair, trying to be consciously present in the moment without turning in on myself or dozing off. No insight, no feelings. Few prayerful words. No discussion afterwards. No pasa nada.

After the session I walked in Llandaff Fields for three quarters of an hour. A cold strong blustery wind tried to blow me over. In the last stretch a heavy shower soaked my hat and top jacket, so I didn't go as far as I wanted to and reached home feeling annoyed.

Rachel rang up at supper time. She told us that Jasmine is in Copenhagen, but unfortunately she's unwell, probably 'flu. I hope it's not serious as she's a long way from family support. 

After supper, I completed writing a Reflection on the Morning Prayer passage from Colossians due to be read in a couple of weeks time, then I made an effort to get to bed even earlier, to see if it makes any difference.

Another Boris crisis

After breakfast this morning, I completed the on-line check-in for next Tuesday's flight and downloaded the PDF of the boarding card to my phone. Then Clare reminded me of the need to carry a vaccination certificate as well. That was less than straightforward. Initially the NHS app failed me, as it's less than clear at the outset that NHS Wales is not served by the app. You have to look for the NHS Wales website and follow the procedure from there to obtain the vaccination certificate PDF, delivered by a mobile phone text message containing a web-link to the download. It could be more straightforward than it is. Anyway I have all the necessary travel documents now. All I have to do now is sort out travel money, and that's for tomorrow or the day after.

Clare had a dentist's visit mid morning, so I did the weekly grocery shopping trip to the Co-op, and then cooked lunch. I had chaplaincy emails to respond to after lunch. It sounds as if I will be collected from the airport instead of having to take the coach to Estepona. I'm grateful for this as there's likely to be a higher risk of catching covid on a crowded coach than on a 'plane with a much higher standard air conditioning system. One risk is better than two. I just have to stay away from busy crowded places this week. We won't see Jasmine as everyone around her has covid, but not her so far, but the risk she'll catch it and transmit it is still high. It's very sad but inevitable.

We went for a walk around Llandaff Fields and down to Blackweir for a drink at the TukTuk cafeteria, a motor tricycle equipped to sell drinks, which parks the other side of the bridge. The guy running it told us he's an architecture student, and we had an interesting chat, with him telling us as he lives with dyslexia for which he has developed a successful coping strategy.

There was a fascinating programme on Sky Arts this evening about the 20th century artist M C Escher whose extraordinary body of paintings and prints featuring unfathomable geometric patterns with tricks of perspective embedded in them. His art has been influential on designers as well as other artists since the sixties when he came to public attention by designing an album cover for a Rolling Stones LP.

Today's news centres yet again on a crisis around Boris Johnson's leadership and judgement in appointing MP Chris Pincher as Deputy Chief Whip when he was known to have a reputation as a sex pest. He's accused of two sexual assaults last week, and when this came to light he resigned his position and had the Tory Whip withdrawn. During the day Johnson has been openly criticised for lying by a retired senior civil servant, and lost two senior members of his cabinet. He's made excuses for his action in appointing Pincher that were hardly credible, and is coming for criticism from all sides. Opinion is turning against the Prime Minister in conservative media and among the public. There's no sign of Johnson resigning, so it remains to be seen if the Tory Party finds a way to dislodge him.

Quarantine day two

I woke up in the night a couple of times, wondering about how to alert the local health authorities to the inconsistencies in the messaging. After breakfast I decided to contact the Local Health Board 'concerns' team and explain the problem. I still had the contact details, as I opened a complaint procedure two years ago when communication about appointments and waiting list was poor and contributed a great deal to my distress at the time. I explained my concern and added some photos as back up evidence. 

I received an auto reply straight away with a form to fill in. I did that two years ago, and never formally closed the complaint I made, and won't do until the surgical saga is over and done with. My contact details must be on their system somewhere (if not why not?). Somewhere will get around to reading it eventually and do what I asked, and forward my email to the NHS Wales comms team. 

Later I discussed the issue with Owain as he's a comms professional and knows from the inside what the problem is. As far he's concerned the government's communication systems are dysfunctional from the top down. It was badly designed and implemented piecemeal from the outside, so agencies don't all talk to each other or collaborate on information output, a malaise in every area of government. Ah well, at least I did what I could to highlight a problem there'd nothing I can do to resolve.

On the statistics programme 'More or Less' following the nine o'clock news, on Radio Four, there was an item about vaccination rates. It was revealed that Wales has the highest proportion of people vaccinated at least once in the world, and is set to complete the target population two months ahead of the UK target date. Israel is world leader in the number of its nine million citizens vaccinated, but Wales with three million citizens has done better proportionally. 

The Welsh Assembly Government developed its own logistic strategy for the roll-out of vaccines, different from that of England, Scotland and Wales, and it has proved effective. When I think of the way BBC Radio Four's Today programme interviewers subjected First Minister Mark Drakeford to a most hostile interrogation when he announced there would be a planned pause in roll-out at an early stage, I felt it was entirely unjustified. Poor journalism in fact. I wait to see if he is interviewed on the programme in the light of his re-election and the success of the Welsh vaccine roll-out.

A warm sunny day today, an opportunity to walk outside, and take photos of bees browsing flowers in the garden. I'm not over pleased with the results. I'm out of practice at taking close up photos of tiny creatures but a few days of nice weather confined to the house and garden will give me plentry of time to practise.

This evening I recorded Morning Prayer and Reflection and uploaded it to YouTube ready for tomorrow. My Samsung phone ran out of memory three fifths of the way through, so I had to move the incomplete file to the SD card and then record the rest and join the two files in a video editor  it is very annoying and consumes extra time. An eleven minute recording edited and uploaded consumes over an hour of time when you include the initial time spent on setting up the recording. Can all this be done more quickly with a more powerful better equipped phone? There's been no technical discussion of 'how to' among parish contributors so far. Or is it me? Am I the 'dinosaur' with only a five year old phone which works for most purposes just fine? 

At the moment, I don't have WhatsApp on my newer work phone. I could just swap the SIM cards over and install WhatsApp, but am reluctant to do so until the work SIM expires and revert to having only one phone. Yes, I am being awkward and will put off adapting until I must as I have no idea if the Blackberry will be as good to use for videoing as the Samsung. I've never tried videoing with it. Never needed to. As long as you have a device that works and fulfils your current needs and purposes, you learn the minimum you need to be remain functional. It's when you need to adapt to changes in use that you have to learn a few new things, and change well worn habits. That's a key problem in living with technology, and explains why people so easily get left behind by surges in innovation.

Covid cleared

This morning I drove to the site of the now closed Whitchurch Mental Hospital as it was called in my youth, to be swabbed for my covid PCR test at one of two Portacabins set up under a large canopy in the hospital car park. My only recollection of visiting the hospital was when I was a teenager, accompanying my father to visit his younger brother Douglas, diagnosed schizophrenic, and incarcerated here after going AWOL from army boot camp at Sennybridge near Brecon, and found wandering, out of his mind, on the moors nearby. He eventually died there of throat cancer, having been a chain smoker most of his life. If I visited anyone else there pastorally as a curate in nearby Caerphilly, I don't remember, but meeting Uncle Douglas just that once, sparked my interest in mental health and sickness, which in a way contributed to my seeking a life in ordained ministry.

As I had the postcode and name of the road where the site entrance is located, it was easy to find, I arrived ten minutes early and there was no queue of cars. The entire procedure took two minutes. On my way out, I stopped and took photos of the site entrance and the screening station to post on Google Maps. My proposed annotation identifying location in the hospital grounds wasn't accepted by Google Maps, but the photos of the site entrance showed clearly enough that this is where a stranger would be able to know they'd come to the right place.

Just eleven hours later, I had a text message on my phone stating that the test was, as expected, negative also stating that I didn't need to self-isolate. The message was clearly not customised to account for the fact that the test subject in question has pre-op self isolation as a condition for surgery to proceed. This is what the pre-surgery information leaflet specifies and is what I shall do. Reading the paragraph about this in the leaflet made me realise that clauses in the prescriptive sentence are written in the wrong logical order, leading to ambiguity. Some pre-surgery recipients of the text message could conclude that because their test result is negative they need not self-isolate, on the assumption that the most recent text supercedes the leaflet advice. I'm not happy about this, but to whom can I report this instance of a risk laden mixed message?

I'm staying home and not going anywhere until Friday morning so daily exercise means pacing around the house and garden. Before last November's operation I lowered my daily target by 20% to 10,000 steps, and managed this, and a little more. I didn't bother changing it today, and easily met my 12700 step target with pauses to take phone calls, eat meals, and prepare my Thursday Morning Prayer reflection for recording tomorrow. I found confinement pacing much easier today than I did last time, a tribute to the improvement brought about by the previous round of surgery. I think I'm going to enjoy instead of endure the next couple of days of waiting.

Unreasonable delay

After breakfast and Morning Prayer, I drove to St Catherine's for perhaps the first time, certainly in the Polo, but maybe since we've been living in the Parish, as it's such a short walk from home. The reason for this was to transport the heavy Bosch vacuum cleaner which Clare bought when I was in Ibiza last year. It's proved to be too heavy for either of us to lug around the house with painful joints. I offered it to church warden Sue for the church, as it's quite a powerful device, better suited to cleaning dusty surfaces in church. A new much lighter one arrives this afternoon.

For the first time since St John's Day in Christmastide, I celebrated the Eucharist this morning, with an improvised sermon. There were eight of us regulars present and I much enjoyed doing so. Although I've not presided for three months, I was more relaxed at ease doing so this time, not worrying about going through the necessary anti-covid precautions. The correct routine seems now to have embedded itself in my memory.

I received an email from the European diocesan Safeguarding team about participating in the on-line Stage Two training which is now a prerequisite for those who wish to hold a diocesan PTO. Those who have done it say it's a worthwhile activity, and even though it's unlikely that I'll get an opportunity to do locum duty abroad any time soon, I intend to keep my PTO so there'll no hold-up if I am asked again.

Back on 23rd February I was due to have a telephone consultation about blood pressure medication side effects with a pharmacological consultant, who cancelled for reasons of sickness on that morning. Today I received an appointment letter for the 25th May. The initial appointment request had been made by my GP last November. For better or worse I've taken the matter into my own hands and feel better for not taking an additional daily tablet whose side effects made me feel worse. There's something absurd about this. 

Just suppose the drug combinations was putting me at more risk than the side effects indicated? I could be dead waiting that long for an assessment. People with mental health conditions get stuck on medications they don't need and which rob them of well-being because their case doesn't get reviewed. The Covid crisis provides an alibi for delayed treatments, so there's no point in making an issue of it. I think I'll cancel the appointment, but suppose I should report this to my GP, in case the system flags me up as 'no-show' or 'non-cooperative' to cover up the uselessness of a service which doesn't even bother to enquire of a patient what impact the consultation delay might have.

Fran and Mark came over to see us and arrived just as I was returning from collecting our Beanfreaks weekly grocery order. We had a cup of te in the garden and then went for a walk around Pontcanna Fields together. One they watched the footage of the icon video I shot with them, they decided to revise the script and re-shoot it at a different location. The editing has now been done and it'll be ready for showing on the Parish 'Holy Ground' webcast in Easter Week. I'm pleased they were able to get to a finished product they were satisfied with. I had fun being a small part of the process.

Long awaited conversation

After breakfast this morning, my telephone consultation with Mrs Cornish was booked for ten o'clock. Minutes after ten, the phone rang. It was a routine robo-scam call about my non-existent Amazon Prime account! Minutes later Mrs Cornish called, with marvellous news. Day surgery appointments re-start on 30th April, and I'll get an appointment on one of the early lists in May. Wales has seen a couple of days with no deaths due to covid. Many people are still being treated in hospital, but with infection rates so much lower now local health boards in Wales are in a position to pick up where they left off, and work through the backlog.

I think I was over the top excited on the phone. I'd been steeling myself for a much longer wait, given the huge number of people needing treatment delayed by the pandemic crisis. Mrs Cornish was pleased with my January MRI scan showing progress had been made after round four of surgery last November. I was able to confirm that progress in healing has continued since then, even if the gradual closure of the wound has led to the loose end of the suture sticking into me painfully. At last the end is in sight!

As soon as the call ended, I dashed off to St Catherine's for the Eucharist. With so much to give thanks for, I couldn't stay away, and only arrived five minutes late. It was lovely to share the news with fellow worshippers who have been so kind and supportive over the past couple of years.

I shared the good good news with Clare when I got back from church. She'd been out walking when the call came. I went out again and collected this week's veggie bag, and then helped cook lunch. It was mild enough to eat outdoors in the sunshine. Sitting there with my eyes closed, enjoying the warmth, listening to sparrows chirping in next door's hawthorn tree, the washing machine finished its cycle and started to bleep. For a moment, those sounds put me back on the terrace of the chaplaincy house in Ibiza, just as vividly as pictures Google Photos pitches me a daily reminder of, a year after they were taken.

I walked around the park for another hour before tea, and spotted the first fully open dandelion of spring alongside on of the tracks I walk on. The two crab apple trees we've harvested fruit from are sprouting leaves. Interesting how some trees produce blossom first and then leaves, while others produce leaves and then blossom. I guess each species plays to the needs and ability of its pollinators, depending on the exact time and weather beneficial to both their life cycles. Lovely to have a mind free and time to take in the exquisite detail of they ways nature works.

V-day

After breakfast this morning we walked in good time over to Cardiff City Football Stadium for our covid vaccines. We had a shock when we arrived at the the check-in booth to be told that we couldn't proceed to the vaccination point because we weren't in a car. That was how we discovered that the vaccination centre is 'drive-in only'. 

When we were contacted and given an appointment I said that I was pleased it was near enough for us to walk there together for our vaccination. The practice receptionist said was we wouldn't be able to go in together, and I said that waiting ten minutes outside wouldn't be a problem. It didn't occur to me that this centre was exclusively for recipients on wheels. 

Truth to tell, I know nothing about drive-in facilities anywhere. The only one I can identify in Cardiff is an add-on to a fast food joint. The idea of a drive-in food outlet appals me, an offence against food, un-necessarily adding to pollution and carbon footprint.. Yes, I am deeply prejudiced against the concept, and had difficulty conceiving of a stand alone drive-in outlet without a separate pedestrian facility.

They checked and confirmed that we were listed, and reassured us that the schedule had plenty of slack in it, as people were arriving early and being dealt with speedily. I called a taxi, which arrived in ten minutes and drove us through the facility and then took us home. On schedule!

I've had no reaction, Clare isn't sure if she had a reaction from the vaccine or whether it was just the shock of the unexpected. We wait not until 23rd April for jab number two. Next time we're go by car for sure.

It's may be just an odd coincidence, but when I spoke to Ashley later in the day, he interrogated me in detail after I told him the story. He too had initially been offered a vaccination booking at the stadium by someone who didn't mention to him that it was drive-in only. He declined as the date didn't suit him, and will got to his GP surgery for his next week. I knew it was drive-in, but the decisive word here everyone needs to know is 'only'. I would have been happy to drive there if I'd known, although I walk everywhere or use public transport to get around town as a matter of principle.

Vaccination centres are portrayed in the news all the time. It's presumed that what's self evident to some is obvious to everyone. The dominant news image of such a centre in my mind is of a big sports centre with scores of walk-in vaccination points. If there has been footage of people being vaccinated in their cars I haven't seen it. In may be written down somewhere in the various sheets of A4 bilingual information churned out by the health authority, too much to read without losing attention, too many words for a small but precise piece of information. What about people with poor literacy skills, whose first language is neither English nor Welsh, as poor at processing information as I am, but for different reasons?

Anyway, disaster was avoided. We're somewhat less vulnerable to covid now, but are still obliged to keep the safety rules as strictly as ever, as there is a one in twenty chance of the vaccine not being effective and a one in three chance of being contagious if infected accidentally, especially over the next three weeks in which immunity gradually develops. For now the vaccine takes the edge of the inevitable anxiety which is the shared experience of so many at this time.

I cooked lunch and walked around the park down to Blackweir bridge. The vandalised barrier has been repaired, but how long will it stay like that? After supper we started to watch a classic comedy movie 'No Sex Please We're British' It's a fast moving 1960s farce translated from stage to film, but the humour in it is so dated it became broing to watch, so we gave up. Clare decided to read, I watched 'New Amsterdam' and 'Rebecka Martinson, one after the other, and that was it for a thought provoking day.

Deluge, plague and good news too

Lots of heavy rain overnight and a wet walk to St Catherine's for the Eucharist this morning, with eight others. At the corner junction of Severn Grove and Romilly Road is a spot that's poorly drained, as usual after heavy rain a big pond of water extended into the middle of the road. You have to keep an eye out for passing cars and wait before walking around it or get drenched. When it's that bad, the water level in the Taff is bound to be high as proved to be the case when I walked to  Blackweir Bridge after lunch. High enough, in fact, to cover the fish ladder structure. More heavy rain to come in the next few days.

Much to my surprise, mid-morning I had a call from the Radiology department at Heath Hospital booking me in for a MRI scan this coming Saturday at five thirty in the evening. Talk about working flat out! This is happening just when Mrs Cornish the surgeon, somewhat confidently I thought at the time, said it would happen, with a view to operation number 5 in February. Given the infection surge, this might again end up being postponed, but clearly the determination is there to get as much possible of normal medical services running as desired to clear the backlog. A herculean task indeed. I couldn't help expressing my delight at receiving the call to the co-ordinator who rang, which seemed to take her slightly by surprise. It's a real morale booster. 

First Minister Mark Drakeford announced that in view of unchecked rises in coronavirus infections there is to be a further period of lock-down across Wales after the Christmas respite. The number of households that can meet indoors is reduced from three to two, but Owain can be counted as in a bubble with us, so when Kath, Anto and Rhiannon come down for Boxing Day we can meet at home. We are discussing an outdoor rendezvous however, maybe half way between Kenilworth and Cardiff, so we get some fresh air. Trouble is that all pubs and restaurants will be closed after Christmas Day.

It was revealed that 11,000 coronavirus Wales test results from a previous week's statistical report had been omitted inadvertently. This was due to 'scheduled maintenance' downtime on the national Lighthouse test lab system, set up by the government initially disregarding the capacity of regional public health and university labs all of the country to deal with their own locality. By national here I mean 'England' based, and I've already seen how poor communications can be in relaying information between central government and the nations. Two days for the border force to tell Wales NHS that I was home from Spain, for Wales NHS to order me to self isolate. Ludicrous in a digital age!

Mark Drakeford was up-front about the consequences, even before the impact of the incoming news had been expertly assessed I suspect. That's the best explanation I can think for some of the changes moving from being strongly recommended to having force of law in one afternoon, in the light of new information I suppose. Return to tough restrictions is going to mean more hardship for many more people, but how else is control over this pandemic going to be possible, without a death rate of American proportions.

In the evening, I completed the texts for next week's Morning Prayer videos. Mother Frances has asked me to do this again in the week after Epiphany. While making the recording can be a bit stressful I enjoy the challenge, and am relieved it's not something I have to do as a matter of routine duty every week on top of everything else full time ministry demands. Then I set about emailing the digital edition of our Christmas greetings and letter. Another half a dozen new addresses this year, from my time in Ibiza, and so far only a couple of them bounced back. Quite a productive evening, even if I did end up getting to bed too late.

Staycation round two, day twelve

My worries about getting the vital covid test were dispelled when had a 'phone call from the mobile test team member after breakfast (Saturday pancakes as usual), to brief me and give an approximate ETA. Two young women arrived at half past twelve, one in nursing and the other in paramedic uniform, both masked and gloved, with the one administering the test wearing a visor as well, and the other holding the necessary disposal bags. Taking the throat swab only took a few seconds, a couple of light touches with the probe either side of the epiglottis, then the disposable PPE kit bundled up into a doubled up bin bag for disposal with our household waste on Monday. Five minutes, all done, such a relief!

I then walked indoors for an hour, and another hour outdoors after lunch. Cold with a thin layer of cloud today with the sun struggling to shine through occasionally, and the sky clearing after dark. People are still letting off fireworks in our neighbourhood. As we are within earshot of the city's rugby, cricket and soccer stadiums (or is it stadia?) it's not so unusual for there to be fireworks after a game. I'm not sure why, three days after bonfire night, when there's nothing much to celebrate about being in lock-down.

When I was doing my daily Spanish language drill on Duo Lingo, one of the ads it served up was a short video about lock-down rules in Wales. I haven't seen it before. It's not unusual to have location specific ads pitched up in between lessons, but this is a very good public health notice - clear, simple, to the point with good graphics. Somebody in the Senedd government is earning their keep!

After completing the second walk of my day's walk, I spent the afternoon watching CNN news on-line, for signs of an end to the agonising wait to know the outcome of the US presidential election. The media don't wait to witness the final formal declaration of an outcome in any state or county, as this can take days if not weeks. There is a complex art to predicting a winner, and if the votes on both sides are evenly matched and it's not evidently a landslide victory, care is taken not to rely on the projection from observed trends until the conclusion is irresistible. 

This moment arrived at about half past four our time, with the results of one Philadelphia County among several replicated a sustained growth pattern which increased Joe Biden's lead, to the point where it could be relied on to say that the lead was irreversible. Then CNN, NBC and Fox News channels 'called' the election in Biden's favour. Trump had already stated that he would be making challenges against the conduct of the election in the most inflammatory way, denying the evidence, refusing to acknowledge the result. Instead he went out for a round of golf. Unprecedented behaviour for a head of state in a democratic country.

It wasn't long before crowds of people of all ages were dancing with joy in the streets in many parts of America, speaking of the end of a nightmare for their country and the revival of common decency in public discourse. Clare received an email from our friend Saralee, a Jewish Democrat activist  in Seattle headed 'Hallelujah! Thank the Buddha!' For her even more hard work lies ahead to repair the damage done to the country, and not only be the impacts of coronavirus and climate change. 

On CNN, one of a panel of four commenting on the results throughout the day, Van Jones an African American spoke spontaneously and movingly with tears in his eyes about what the result meant to him. To have a president determined to treat everyone as equals and reunite the nation, enabling him, his children and his community to walk tall and no longer feel that they are under threat, but respected as people with dignity. He gave voice to the feeling of oppression which many non-white citizens have experienced under Trump. It was painful to hear, and powerful, something I'll not forget in a hurry. 

As soon as Biden is inaugurated he intends to reverse Trump's decision to take America our of the Paris accord on climate change. Clearing climate change deniers appointed by Trump from the corridors of power will take him longer and be fraught with difficulty, but it will make a difference to countries all around the world for America to become part of the solution again, not part of the problem.

In the evening, I watched this evening's double episode of the Danish crimmie 'DNA'. Not exactly light relief, however, as it's all about stolen babies and child trafficking. More emotive stuff, and with a strong tinge of religion about it, partly set in a convent baby home. I good watch however, with subtitles, and dialogue switching between Danish, English, Polish and this week French. Interesting again to see how English is a second language many EC members have in common. 

Staycation round two, day eleven

Glorious sunshine again today, all day. I walked indoors before lunch and outdoors afterwards when it was slightly warmer. Although it looks increasingly certain that Joe Biden has won the US Presidential Election, votes in the remaining key states are still being counted, and Trump, increasingly isolated with his key White House team continues to challenge the likely result by attempting discredit the process. So the wait continues with political pundits and broadcast media working overtime to fill the news vacuum with ephemeral opinions and reactions. It's surreal, like an over the top Netflix drama. 

I decided to email the pre-op assessment team at the Heath to alert them to the slightly bewildering information gap between their team and the Spire's team. It would be good to have some clarification. I got an auto-reply and no follow up phone call. The response said emails were checked daily, but didn't say if that included weekends. I guess I missed today's round. Let's see when I hear, or even if I hear.

Then I had another call from Karen at the Spire hospital to check on when I usually take my medication. From the conversation I got the impression that if it had been a morning op., I'd be asked to omit just the Losartan and take it later. As it's a confirmed afternoon appointment it seems not to be critical. It's something to do with being anaesthetised I think, and not having my blood pressure lowered too much as I go into surgery. It wasn'r an issue on three previous occasions when ops were in the afternoon. The conversation left me with a degree of uncertainty, as I was told it was up to me whether or not I take the Losartan when I get up as usual, or not.

I was expecting a phone call about tomorrow's planned covid-19 test, but none came, I called the surgery at tea time to ask if they had a phone number for the local test centre. When I rang the given number, I got a message stating the office was closed. Will it be open tomorrow or not? No information. How will I know if the mobile testing team has me booked in, as I have no written confirmation. I know better than to trust people promises when they are under pressure. 

More seriously, I have no means of checking tonight. The test has to be done three days before. Not knowing is a worry, What if is on my mind since I learned that the Spire had my home address down incorrectly. Who else has this error replicated in their diaries? I think I'll have to kick up a fuss about this if I don't hear tomorrow by mid-morning, as it would result in my op. being postponed again. 

Staycation round two, day ten

I rose early again before dawn, to a clear bright sky, with just Venus brightly visible in the east before the sun appeared over the rooftops, about half an hour after peeping over the horizon. Mercury should also be there, although I suspect losr from sight unaided in the growing strength of sunlight. A lovely crisp chilly day. I really enjoyed doing part of my daily walk in the garden once it warmed  up a little.

I spent the morning completing the reflections I've written for the Parish web offerings with suitable pictures representing the content. It took a lot longer than expected as finding suitable resources proved difficult. There wasn't much to my taste on-line unfortunately, but they're all done and dispatched to Emma now. I wanted to get it done before going in for my op, just in case recovery turns out to be too much of a distraction. It's so nice to be asked and I don't want to let anybody down.

This afternoon I had a phone call from an administrator at The Spire hospital asking if I had filled in a pre-op questionnaire. Twice I said, when I went for assessment at the Heath hospital. Then she asked if I had filled in their form. I went through the information pack I'd been sent and said I'd not received one from them, whereupon she proceeded to question me briefly over the 'phone. Five minutes later called again with more questions. I think she'd missed the questions on the back of the form. 

Had the surgical team at the Heath not sent the dossier, digitally or otherwise? I wondered, but dared not ask. With such increasing pressure on hospital resources I imagine the admin staff are having a hard job keeping up with immediate demands, let alone work required to out-source a day's surgical patients to another hospital. Still, it wasn't another postponement call.

All eyes are on the U.S.A. as postal ballots continue to be counted in four key states remaining. Trump is whingeing loudly as his presumed early lead is slowly eroded, alleging without evidence that there has been foul play and electoral fraud, causing serious embarrassment to traditional Republicans, outrage in sections of the media and among state civil servants, whose pride in their even handed fairness is being wildly slandered. It comes to something when three main news networks, some of them formerly Trump enthusiasts, cut across live broadcasts of his allegations saying his statements are unfounded or false. 

This has no precedent in American electoral history it seems. Joe Biden has edged closer to electoral victory during the day, but not declared prematurely, speaking with the dignified caution of one who has already served as Vice President. He may be old to take office, but for all that, he's far wiser than the old fool who blustered and lied his way through the past four years as head of state. No electoral threshold was crossed during the day, however. Tomorrow maybe?

It's Guy Fawkes/Bonfire night with the sound of fireworks and the smell of burning in the air, though no big display at the SWALEC stadium this year. I didn't bother to go out into the cold and take a look, idle telly watching in the warm won the evening.

Staycation round two, day nine

I woke up half an hour before sunrise to a bright blue cloudless sky. It lifted my spirit, and moved me to take my Sony Alpha 68 to the loft and shoot a series of photos as the sun emerged from behind the roof line of the terraced houses beyond the garden. For a fleeting moment I glimpsed a flock of starlings as the made their way from the night time urban shelter towards the countryside to the west. I often hear them in the late afternoon, but seldom see dozens in the sky together. Inevitably, after an early breakfast I fell asleep again during morning prayer. Thank heavens I don't have a schedule to keep these days.

Early results in the U.S. election indicate that Joe Biden didn't get an overwhelming number of votes. It's too close to anticipate a result while votes are still being counted. How long will it take I wonder before enough are counted and legitimized to be sure who won? Again the opinion polls have been wrong, Not enough people are yet sick of political populism and a bullying head of state to declare against him. 

The country seems evenly divided, on the basis of voting turnout said to be the largest in a century. No good can come from all Trump's lies and deceits, until enough people give up on  all illusory promises that end up dividing in order to rule. The world needs consensus and united action in order to survive pandemic and climate change, and at the moment we have neither.

I had to forego exercising in the garden today despite the sunshine. Clare took advantage of the weather to fill the washing line which runs along the path, so all my walking was indoors, listening to Radio 3. When I did pop outdoors, I noticed that the hawthorn tree in next door's garden, now stripped of leaves was hosting a large family of sparrows, nearly a dozen I think, and another family visited but seemed unable to find enough room to cohabit. 

Last week, and on other occasions this autumn, a solitary sparrow perched in that tree, cheeped loudly for ages then flew off. I wonder if it was advertising the space available? Before this tree was drastically pruned about five years ago, it was often hosted a large group of sparrows. Then there were none. This year they've nested in the hedge next door on the other side, and are hanging around much more.

Having taken such a lot of photos of four different cameras since the end of summer, I thought I'd add them to my PC's hard drive archive. It took me longer than expected to file them away in the correct folders this afternoon. Then, for amusement I processed ten sunrise photos into a video clip to send to the family. It's something I rarely do, so it took a while to figure it out first.

The surgeon's administrator at the hospital rang at tea time to check me out, wanting to confirm that my covid-19 test had been booked, and asking if I was well, really wanting to check I wasn't poorly and going down with some sort of sickness - possible even in quarantine I guess, if you ate something that gave you a tummy bug. So far so good, anyway.

Staycation round two day seven

The sun broke through the cloud and shone brightly for a while a few times today, but for the rest of the time it just rained. It was never dry enough to be worth dressing up to walk in the garden. I spent several working on my novel in the morning and after lunch with exercise breaks in between sessions. Checking for inconsistencies in the narrative is a lengthy process. I'd hoped to make progress towards the ending, but reviewing a middle section for a fragment of detail, got stuck there with corrections and re-phrasing. It reminds me there's such a lot to do, but it's fun, learning how fascinatingly complex it is, inventing a life story for a fictional character. 

It's All Souls Day, time to remember family members on the other side, especially Pauline, Ivor and Lindsay, all of whom died between March and September this year, and none of them with covid-19 in this most deadly year for the over seventies. The government announced new lock-down plans for the next month in English regions today, in response to rising infection rates. If only they'd acted on advice given by epidemiologists earlier, in the way the regions did. Once more too late. 

The Celtic nations acted independently on expert advice earlier with new restrictions. Today our First Minister Mark Drakeford announced the Welsh Assembly Government's plan to get us through to Christmas without another time in lock-down, though there is an element of lock-out which will annoy residents of borderlands, with an active prohibition of people travelling into Wales without good reason, just for leisure or recreation. I expect London tabloids, and maybe even BBC News presenters will get belligerent about this.

A week in quarantine already, and as it happens a week entirely indoors. No dwelling in the past, no regrets about the present, no false hopes for the future was how Terry Waite described his strategy for living in the moment and staying sane during his four years as a hostage, I think. It works for me too. How did he reach that conclusion? Did someone tell him that as he entered on his mediating Middle Eastern mission - just in case the worst happened, I wonder?   

Payback time

Wales's regional lock-down started this evening, not that it makes as much difference to us as will the even stricter self-isolation I'll have to endure for two weeks before the operation (if it happens). We're well prepared, thanks to Clare's superb household management skills. Even so, there were a few things which I needed, plus some extra fruit, which took me out twice on shopping errands today.

After my first outing to the shops, I called in to the GP surgery for a blood pressure check. It was very high when I arrived as I'd been walking briskly, but soon settled down to just above normal. This is a great relief. Slowly, I believe I'm shaking of the chronic stress I have lived with, and am getting closer to finding a level of supplementary Doxazosin dosage that doesn't leave me feeling light headed and faint for much of the day. Clare's herb teas, foot massages and Reiki have all made a difference too. I've not taken my own blood pressure for months because the abnormally high level was worrying me too much, and probably helping to make things worse. 

Emma has asked me to do another week's worth of reflections to publish daily on the Parish Facebook page in a month's time. So nice to be asked again.

I did an hour's work on the novel before cooking lunch. I wish I could put in several hours a day, but if I sit for too long this has dire consequences for my wound which tends to break open, no matter what I do to avoid this happening. It's tiring, standing up to write for the length of time I need to, if I'm to make progress in finishing the job, and there are only a few places where I can perch a computer at a suitably ergonomic height to make it easy to type. Two days ago I spent an hour cutting up crab apples prior to cooking them. I expected my wrist to give me trouble yesterday, but surprisingly it didn't. After working at the computer using a mouse today, it was payback time. Now my left wrist hurts, no matter what I rub into it. Serves me right for overdoing it I suppose. I'll stop here for today.

More time out

An overcast start to the week to the shops to buy some cooking apples for Clare to use in making veggie mince, ready for Christmas pies. She gave me a couple of bulky unwanted items to donate to one of the local charity shops. I soon discovered these aren't taking in any new items, thanks to the impact of covid-19 on their workflow, whether it is due to shortage of volunteers or sanitary precautions, I have no idea. 

It's clear however that all charity shops are suffering. Some are open, others closed pro tem or closed down altogether. There's no aspect of everyday life that isn't subject to the colossal impact of this pandemic. With both hands full, I couldn't then complete my veg shopping mission, so I had to take the donations back home and return to get the apples Clare wanted. I intended to shop in Tesco Metro, but for the first time noticed there was a queue of more than a dozen people waiting for admission. Unusually busy. Are people stocking up prior to lock-down I wonder? I bought cooking apples in the greengrocer's shop opposite, where there was no queue and no customers at that moment.

At midday First Minister Mark Drakeford announced promised new restrictions. These are due to come into force this Friday, lasting until November 9th, the day before my op - if it happens. For me it means an extra four days of being obliged to do what I'm already doing. Reading NHS Wales guidelines on-line was cheering, inasmuch as they are more clearly set out than stuff issued by central government. Outdoor exercise isn't something one may do, as long as you keep others at a distance and go directly to and from home, it's actively encouraged, for physical and mental well-being. National government has taken its lead from the bumbling vagueness and variability of Boris Johnston's pronouncements, and all of us are worse off for that. 

During my afternoon walk, I passed by the pharmacy to collect the revised Doxazosin prescription, agreed with the doctor, and got a few extra things from the nearby Co-op which I couldn't get in the morning.  I've got enough medication to see me through the coming weeks of quarantine now. The 4mg Doxazosin pills are the slow release version. It'll be interesting to see how well these work, given that the 8mg ones didn't sit well in my stomach throughout the day. It's good if medication can leave you feeling less worse

In the evening I intended to do some work on my novel but was captivated by this week's edition of BBC Four's 'Fake or Fortune' programme, about the investigation of a portrait reputed to have been done by Lucien Freud as a teenager. The history of its origins led back to him, but there was evidence that he had denied authorship on the grounds that it was a work he hadn't completed, even though most of it was by his own hand. It seems he was very fussy about which of his works he allowed to go on sale. This was followed by another interesting programme about a billion dollar art theft from a Boston art collection thirty years ago, in which more than a dozen paintings were taken and have never been recovered. It's an story about the art haul being shifted from the USA by the criminal entrepreneurs in Dublin, which still continues without resolution today.

I then went to bed with my laptop and worked for rather too long, re-reading the first couple of chapters of my novel, correcting and revising them. In other words, avoiding drafting the concluding chapters yet again. I still can't figure out exactly how the story will end.

Back on hold

The day started with rain and only dried up after lunch, so my daily exercise started indoors only, pacing around upstairs and downstairs. Just before lunch, a phone call from the administrator of the pre-op unit at the hospital, sounding very apprehensive, to tell me that the op has been postponed for three weeks.

Looking at the news these past few days, it didn't come as a surprise, I half expected it and said this to the bearer of the bad news, and said I understood why. She sounded relieved. There'll be others who are sicker, feeling even more desperate than I am, who won't understand, who'll just see it as another NHS failure to meet its duty of care to all citizens and be angry and upset. What a job, to have to explain the reality to all the people whose hopes are being dashed.

Long waits to be operated on, which I have experienced on a couple of occasions, were due to shortage of anaesthetists. In anticipation of the increase in patients needing life support due to the covid spike, surgeons and anaesthetists need to be on standby, clearing diaries to return to the crisis front line. Will just a three week delay be enough? I'm doubtful. 

Having just resigned myself and adjusted to life in confinement, it's back to what passes for normal for the next five weeks before resuming self-isolation. I celebrated with a walk to the shops in search of a small cake tin and a bottle of brandy for Clare - with extra time in home confinement with me, got her started on cooking Christmas cakes, several of them, different sizes. 

Then I went for a walk in the park and took a few photos before tea, and completed my regular mileage quota for the day outdoors again. My legs complained a little at walking bigger distances in a straight line without stopping, just after a few days of being indoors. Adjusting to change, physical or mental, takes longer as you get old, I guess.

In the evening BBC Four celebrated the 80th anniversary of John Lennon's birth, with a showing of the 1964 Beatles movie 'Hard Day's Night'. It came out in the middle of our first year together as a couple. We loved the songs then, and can still sing them from memory, even if lyric details are a little garbled on times. The whole 90 minutes film is chock full of songs, a whole long playing record's worth. Its witty dialogue, comic scenes, superb visuals and editing, are a delight, quite innovative to pack so much in at that time. It's like one long music video, fifteen years before MTV popularised pop song singles videos. 

There were also a couple of documentaries fronted by Yoko Ono, featuring Lennon's post Beatle songs, mostly written after he migrated to the USA in the seventies. Interesting stories and music, either unremembered or new to me. A remarkable creative man, a life tragically cut short.  

Catastrophe in action

 A lovely sunny start to the day. I felt sad not to be able to go to the midweek Eucharist at St Catherine's so I read the liturgical scriptures for the day (the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary) and recited the service off by heart instead. In the lunchtime post came a letter confirming my surgery date. The leaflet giving instructions about self isolation prohibits leaving home, except for medical emergencies. It's annoying to receive this the day after rather than the day before I was meant to start. That's exactly the same as it was when I returned from Ibiza. Quarantine instructions from NHS Wales arrived more than forty eight hours after I reached home. 

In both instances I knew and did the right thing, in terms of keeping well away from other people. It's hardly any wonder some fail to take seriously public health edits, with a catalogue of inconsistencies and delays in time critical communication. So it's back to the cramped daily household exercise routine, and no more photographing autumn colours developing, no matter what impact it has on my physical and mental state. 

The surge of infection rates all over the UK is leading to more localised restrictions, and this has yet to bear fruit in noticeable levelling off or reduction in rates. Some though by no means all University campuses across the country are seeing abnormally high infection rates. It will be interesting to see what analysts make of this. Is it about student behaviour in some communities? Or is it to do with how those students are accommodated and how those residential communities are being managed? Or is it just the random misfortune of the odd anonymous 'superspreader' event revealing flaws in social arrangements, another illustration of catastrophe theory in action outside of expectations?

Tonight we watched the last heart-warming episode of 'The Shtisels'. It ended in a way that suggested a further series, and when I checked IMDB I found out that there is indeed another set of twelve episodes from 2015, the first having been in 2013, and there's a third series in the pipeline. I wonder how we can acquire the second box set?

No end in sight to the mess we're in

Yesterday I booked an appointment at the Riverside wound clinic, which meant making an early start to walk there by ten past nine. When I arrived I discovered that I wasn't expected. The person who made the booking booked me into the first slot in the second room in the clinic which wasn't in operation. Only one nurse was on duty and she was waiting for a patient who was yet to arrive. I was able to book a slot for Thursday this week and take some medical supplies away with me.

Later I had a phone conversation with one of the GP team, reporting back on my condition after finishing the sixth course of antibiotics. My blood pressure hasn't dropped from its worryingly high level. I'm still waiting for a cardiology specialist appointment to address this concern, and tomorrow I have the pre-op assessment. We agreed it was likely to trigger a speedy examination to ascertain whether they would be able to operate on me, because of the three week time frame for preparing the surgical list. Tinkering about with medication in the meanwhile seems unwise. I was insistent that it's the state of the wound which is the root cause of the high blood pressure, just as it was before I had the first round of surgery twenty months ago. 

In other respects, I'm as fit and well as I can be. My daily walking mileage is back to normal, better in fact, after a few days last week when fighting off the cold led me to reduce by 20%. I've come through a heavy cold without setback, and my head has been a lot clearer in the past week or so. than it has been for a long time. I'm just hoping my immune system won't weaken further, in the run-up to the operation.

After a damp and misty yesterday, it's back to a warm sunny autumnal day today, no need for a top coat, good for the spirit. Infection rates continue to rise across Wales, and now four North Wales local authority areas have had restrictions imposed. Across the country there's a great deal of media fuss about how the so called 'rule of six' limit on people meeting socially is to be interpreted. Not even the Prime Minister can make it unequivocally clear. 

Is it so hard to say that it's better if people avoid face to face socialising altogether? The pandemic is trashing the economy globally and locally. It's going to drain the wealth of many if not all nations profoundly. Jobs will be lost, people will suffer, whether people can and do socialise in the short term or not. Socialising without strict constraints will cost lives. Many seem resistant to the need for any kind of constraint, and don't understand the risk they pose to others. 

This is a time to rethink what the healing of a community, of society as a whole really means, but not everybody gets it. Coming to our senses collectively and doing the right thing is proving much harder than it was hoped for. 

It was cousin Ivor's funeral today, just as Clare and I were sitting down to lunch. We remembered him in prayer, as we said grace. How long I wonder will it be before it's possible for remaining cousins to meet and celebrate the lives of those who have died since we were last able to hold a family gathering. How long before I'll be able to meet with my sister Pauline's family to celebrate her life together?

The most important think is not forgetting to keep on asking the question.