The passing of a prophet for our age

The air temperature dropped in the night. I had to get up and find a hat to wear in bed to stay warm but I didn't lose much sleep fortunately. It was zero degrees when I got up but no frost just a dry day. Although my head was clear, the morning meds had an unusually strong impact on me, lasting into the afternoon. I  don't know why, but it slowed me down and made concentration hard work to turn an album of photos into a video slideshow of Rhiannon's 21 years. It's her 22nd birthday today. I made her a digital birthday card and recorded a sung greeting from Clare and I as well. 

After lunch I had a call from a medic working with Dr Tom Hughes, asking me questions about the nasty effect the statins are having on me. A lengthy interview, challenging me to describe accurately what I have noticed recently and back in 2007 when I first renounced them because of ill effects. The stroke has made my reaction much more sensitive. The real concern is the combined effect of taking the Losartan as well. After a twenty five minute conversation, I was promised another call next Tuesday to report his findings and propose an alternative statin. Progress!

In the mail, a final account statement from TalkTalk. I was mentally drained to deal with it after talking on the phone for so long, so I put it on one side without opening it. I have yet to deal with Owain's draft letter of complaint about this to OFCOM.

In the news headlines today, the death at 84 was announced of the Reverend Jesse Jackson, one America's great civil rights advocates, and successor of Martin Luther King. An outstanding preacher and evangelist for social justice. His inspirational exhortation "Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive!" was the call of a twentieth century prophet. He worked tirelessly on the economic front to open career paths for poor and downtrodden black people. May he rest in peace and rise in glory. 

It's also the anniversary of the martyrdom of Archbishop Janani Luwum today as well, a prophet and a moral and spiritual giant of our age, who in 1977 met a violent end for speaking truth to power under the tyrannical regime in Uganda of Idi Amin

I went out for a walk in Llandaff Fields at three when the after effect of the meds and a lengthy telephone conversation started to wear off. After supper, I found two new crimmies to watch on 'Walter Presents'. A puzzling episode of 'Astrid - Murder in Paris' which I hadn't seen, and a whole new series of 'Indagini de Lolita Lobosco', mixing romantic comedy with arms trafficking and the murder of a secret agent tracking the organised crime gang. All worries set aside for a couple of hours before bed time.

Windy Monday

So good to wake up to sunshine and blue sky, after a night disturbed by worries about making a complaint to OFCOM about TalkTalk's incompetent handling of closing our broadband account. It's hard to focus if the meds are messing with your ability to think. I had a message from Sara to say she'd arrived home after travelling for twenty four hours.

I went to the GP surgery after breakfast with my prescription renewal form, conscious that it can take 48 hours to process the request, I'll have run out of meds before then. I think the staff were aware of the email I sent about the surgery website glitch. I was relieved of the paper renewal forms, and told the prescription would be ready at two this afternoon. It seems a new electronic system is being put into place with the pharmacy across the Kings Road, so that it will be possible for patients to renew prescriptions directly. I'm not sure how this will work. Another phone app probably.

As I approached the surgery entrance, I stopped to allow a woman to pass in front of me. On the whole I'm steady on my feet. I feel less agile at the moment due to the impact of the meds so I'm extra cautious when moving around outdoors. A violent blast of wind nearly blew me over. I just avoided a collision that would have toppled both of us. Quite unnerving. On the way home, empty rubbish bins that had been blown over obstructed the pavement. Pedestrians were walking past them with prams, on the edge of the pavement with traffic approaching them from behind, too close for comfort given the random gusts of wind. Weather warning phone apps cannot protect anyone on foot if they disregard potential hazards in their environment.

After the surgery, I went to Tesco's for a few groceries. I bought a packet of rye flour, as Clare was half way through preparing a batch of mixed grain bread when she realised she'd run out. I bought slices of turkey breast from the fresh meat chiller compartment. I haven't seen turkey meat on sale post Christmas for many years. I popped them in the oven to slow roast when I got home.

After a veggie pasta lunch, I returned to the GP surgery to collect my prescription, and was told that the meds request had been emailed to the pharmacy and would be ready for collection. I received three out of the four items prescribed and must return for the fourth tomorrow afternoon. I was given Clare's Cal-cd prescription to take home with me as well. I picked up a leaflet from the counter announcing the switch to electronic prescription ordering, with information about the phone app, and relevant website. One less piece of paper to lose at the eleventh hour. I just have to be sure not to misplace my phone!

By this afternoon the ill effect of my meds was less pronounced than usual, interfering less with thinking, and I was less sleepy than before despite losing an hour's sleep last night. Does it have anything to do with switching to chamomile tea I wonder? It is regarded for its mild anti-hypertensive and diuretic properties and as a soporific. I've noticed that I don't pee quite such a large volume in the night. I guess I'll find out in the course of time.

I went out for a teatime walk and forgot to put on my smart watch which had been on charge. I used my phone's pedometer to make a guesstimate of my walk in Llandaff Fields, to make sure I spent enough time exercising, even if it won't be on record - a bit obsessive I know, but I know that discipline keeps me fit. That's what counts.

After supper, I got to work on collecting digital photos of Rhiannon since birth, from several albums, to use for a 21st birthday slideshow video. A fiddly job to say the least. Tomorrow I'll enlist Clare's help to record a sound track. Talyaan has requested a selection of video material to turn into a birthday compilation. Heavens - how 21 years just slips by!

Under the weather

Another cold day interspersed with showers and gusts of wind. I woke up to a series of brief WhatsApp messages charting Sara's progress through the night and all day in terrible wet weather - Cardiff, Bristol, Schipol Paris, Gothenburg, with cancellations, delays and long waits  A miserable ending to a delightful weekend. And for Sara, a new job to start tomorrow, exhausted.

Last night I couldn't find the GP's prescription renewal document for meds I will need next week. I don't know where it went after unpacking the parcel containing it two weeks ago. I visited the GP website to request a new prescription, an was greeted by a security alert, as the secure page authorisation had not been updated. I took a screenshot and emailed it to the surgery, but will need to visit the surgery on Monday and ask that a new prescription request be dealt with urgently 

I had quite a good night's sleep, but the poisonous effect of the meds has left me feeling tired and unwell for most of the day. It's so daunting. We walked in the rain to St Catherine's for the Eucharist after breakfast. There were about thirty of us in church. As it's half term, there were no children attending Sunday Club this week.

After lunch I found myself falling asleep at the table, and went to bed for an hour before going out for a walk. I told Kath that I had still not received a bill from TalkTalk. She persuaded Owain to call and help me with an outline draft of a complaint letter for OFCOM, but I couldn't deal with it with a drug dulled brain.

When my mind did clear sufficiently to think and work without making mistakes, I had to focus on next Wednesday's Morning Prayer in case I become too poorly to get any work done. It's Ash Wednesday this week. I recorded and edited the audio I needed, and after supper made the video slideshow for uploading to YouTube. It was a slow process, taking up much of the evening. 

When tidying books and papers on a lounge side table, the missing prescription turned up, in an unexpected pile of stuff. Prescription panic over now, thank heavens! 

I was glad to take refuge in bed early before report of Sara's arrival home made my phone buzz. Peace of mind now. 

Fight cancellation equals travel chaos

Sara arrived from Elgano's to have breakfast with us at nine this morning. Thankfully she had a good night's sleep in her hotel.. I had just got up and taken my meds, after a night's sleep with less wakefulness than usual. I woke up refreshed, but the benefit was soon lost due to the impact of the meds. Sara went to town after  we'd eaten, to hunt for a Cardiff souvenir for Ebba. 

Clare and I met her at the Halfway pub on her return and went for a walk, talking about many things non-stop. So many things to share face to face rather than write to each other about. It was cold and dry. We went to Llandaff Cathedral where Sara took a photo of the nave which is now her phone's home screen wallpaper. We had coffee and cake in Jasper's tea room. 

Sara took a moment to check in for tomorrow's KLM flight home to Gothenberg, and was shocked to find it had been cancelled. She was re-routed from Bristol to Schipol, Schipol to Paris and then Paris to Gothenberg. To get to Bristol in time for an early flight means taking a very early 04.25 coach to Bristol, leaving Elgano's at 4.00, thankfully five minutes walk away. What a horror!

I cooked lunch when we got back, then we sat and talked all afternoon and had an early supper. She left us for the hotel at seven to catch as much sleep as possible, to be ready for a home journey as long as a transatlantic flight, starting so early in the day, so we parted company tonight, not midday tomorrow as planned. 

Sara starts a new job on Monday. She had to call her new boss to inform him about her predicament, just in case anything else happens to delay her on the first day of classes after half-term. Then calls with each of her parents and her husband, to tell them what had happened. A lot of Swedish was spoken at home this afternoon!

It was wonderful to spend quality time together after all these years. Sara and I met in Geneva just before Clare and I moved to Monte Carlo 25 years ago, so it's a special anniversary year in a friendship sustained by correspondence. This was her third visit in all that time. I've never visited Sweden and may never do so sadly. 

We talked so much during this reunion filled with insight for me, I didn't realise how tired I was until she'd left and the house descended into quiet. She just messaged me to say good night God bless. I must now finish the day and get to bed.

Sensitivity

Good to see blue sky this morning, despite a population of smaller clouds. More wet weather warnings, but a dry start to the day. Sara slept well in Elgano's hotel and turned up for breakfast at nine. She needed a little navigational help by phone, having walked here in the dark last night. It's the same problem as I had last night finding the access road to the Coach station in the dark. 

Still deeply tired from yesterday with insufficient sleep to recover well, the morning meds made me feel terrible. I went out and walked for an hour to clear my head and met Clare with Sara on their way into town for souvenir shopping. I fell asleep in my armchair for another hour before lunch, then cooked tomatoes and mushrooms to eat with a couple of slices of toast. Sara and Clare returned from town and we spent time chatting and drinking tea. 

We went early to Stefano's for supper. The food was good, but the noise of guests arriving, and table talk against a background of Italian pop ballads made conversation difficult. It wasn't so much being unable to hear, but hearing too much of an assortment of sounds, unable to distinguish and concentrate on listening to soft spoken Sara across the table. There were too many distractions to filter out and process quickly enough to maintain the conversation thread adequately. It's worse with a tired slow acting brain. Dining out is something I don't look forward to these days. We were back home by seven, and Sara returned to her hotel, tired after a stimulating, active day. I spent the rest of the evening reflecting on the day, starting to acknowledge the way the stroke has made me realise just how sensitive I am. It's something I hid from myself behind behaviour learned to cope with overwhelming and painful stimulus. Brain slowdown sabotaged my ability to cope and unmasked the extent of my sensitivity and how I haven't lived with it as well as I could by fully acknowledging it.

The world we inhabit is toxic to sensitive people. It's geared to over stimulation, aimed at retaining attention to promote ideas or products, not allowing enough space to feel free in, and think things through quietly. The struggle is exhausting from the mental effort to make sense of and comply with a plethora of demands and stimuli life throws at them. The problem is that people get stigmatised for being 'different' The culture and environment they inhabit and react to makes them turn in on themselves and disengage or hyper-react defending sensitivity they are socialised to ignore and repress. It's less difficult to look after yourself well, as you learn what kind of person you are, and accept you are not only a child of God, but also a gift and blessing to others, just as you are and were meant to be. That's a lot to take in and sleep on.

No answers

 Up at seven thirty getting ready to walk to an appointment for medical tests at St David's Hospital. I was five minutes late, but worse than that had been given an eight thirty appointment which was incorrectly communicated to me. The nurse was looking for me in the lobby, a familiar face and voice. Catherine the acupuncturist who worked on me a decade ago, whose daughter Clare taught in the Steiner school. Quite a surprise! She steered me through a series of procedures to assess mobility, general fitness, cognition, an electro cardio graph, blood pressure tested standing, sitting and lying down. What with the conversations between tests, my blood pressure as usual was scarily high. I got to see an expert geriatric consultant, to go through the results. The conversation was intense and I was able to vent my frustration at being given medication that makes me feel ill every day, not better. I learned that I needed a blood test while fasting to assess my cholesterol, so I will get an appointment for that. I need to know if the statins I am obliged to take are justified by my actual cholesterol levels. The surgery didn't propose this. 

I will have to wear a blood pressure monitor 24/7 for a week to assess how 'normal' are the spikes and troughs in my blood pressure readings. I did this ten years ago and that delivered no useful information. I just hope newer kit will work more consistently. My night's sleep is broken enough already without the disturbance of being strapped to an uncomfortable machine. Blood tests were taken. No change in medication for now until the data provides an overall picture of my health condition to work from. I was told the clot dispersal meds are a life sentence, despite the havoc they wreak on my intestines, and the leaky wounds that are the result of taking them. Diet and exercise are what's needed to promote health. The impact of the meds deprives me of two to three hours' sleep a night and that is doing me no good whatsoever. No answers that would improve my quality of life. No wonder I still feel angry and resentful. The medics seem unconcerned that sleep loss is impeding my recovery, and affecting my mental health and well being. 

It was after two when I got home. Clare had already eaten after her morning eye appointment, so I cooked a veggie pasta dish for myself, then slept for a couple of hours. While waiting for her afternoon flight Sara and I started exchanging messages,  worried about the transfer to the Cardiff coach. It worked perfectly, and I went to meet her at Sophia Gardens at seven fifteen. The coach station has bad lighting and signage. I know the location well, but it was so dark, that with my visual impairment and fatigue, I had trouble identifying and reaching the arrival area. Sara was off the coach and I had to call her in order to make contact. Once we'd found each other drizzle turned into proper light rain. Then we walked to the Elgano Guest House where she is staying to check in, then home for supper. For her it was an hour later, so she left us by taxi at nine, and will be back for breakfast at nine tomorrow. I'm exhausted after a demanding day both physically and mentally, so tired my typo count is high, like my blood pressure. I need sleep, lots of it.

Kath on the case

Another damp and overcast day, but not much rain. I slept badly, losing sleep rehearsing things I needed to take care of today, but eventually woke up clear headed and sharp to start with. I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to the Parish WhatsApp prayer thread when I got up for breakfast at eight. 

The toxic impact of the meds was not as pronounced as has been before until I started to tire in the afternoon. i made a start on writing a Reflection for next week when it's Ash Wednesday and completed it late in the day. I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. Eleven of us at today's service. I cooked lunch while Clare was out shopping, then went for a walk in the park after eating. I asked Kath's help in contacting TalkTalk to ask for a copy of our final account bill, which I think may need challenging. She certainly succeeded in getting results I despaired of getting. While I was walking in the park at sunset. She tracked the TalkTalk equipment return parcel to its destination from the Post Office receipt. I'd been unable to figure out how to extract this info. 

She obtained screenshot evidence that parcel delivery had been fulfilled. She then set about contacting TalkTalk accounts, logging into their website and using their default direct messaging app to pursue her request for a final account closing bill. The login process using my personal credentials established on their system, rejected my password to hinder the process of gaining access. Exactly the same frustration I had with it that led me to close my user unfriendly TalkTalk account.

Kath did get through and accessed the Direct Messaging app. She was able to download the record of exchanges which I was unable to do. I'm promised a paper bill in a week or so, but am unsure I'll receive a .pdf version as well. I'm promised a phone call from their accounts office about the final account bill.  Kath has found the necessary evidence to support our demand for an explanation of the large direct debit. There's a strong likelihood this call will happen before I have a copy of the bill to scrutinise.

Ashley and I had a long conversation about this affair and he said there were several breaches of consumer legislation in the way this issue has been dealt with by TalkTalk giving grounds for legal action against the company, and these would support a complaint made to OFCOM. Processing all this information, given  how tired I am today, was overwhelming. I need a respite from thinking in order to recover and prepare for whatever comes next.

After supper I watched a couple of undemanding episodes of 'Patience' to relax before bed. All round medical examination first thing in the morning. Stayed up too late again.