Action inertia

Overcast with drizzles of rain this morning. I woke up before daybreak and heard a solitary blackbird sing in the garden. I went back to sleep, slept until after nine and felt quite well when I got up, but the blood pressure pills soon delivered the usual light headed feeling, impairing concentration. 

Pakistan brokered cease-fire talks between Iran and America have resulted in a resumption of maritime traffic through the Strait of Hormuz with pressure being exerted on Iran by US blockades of oil exporting ports. Keeping the Straight open is of vital importance. There's now an international shortage of jet fuel which is going to have a critical effect on transport and trade. If energy exports from the Middle East  were to resume immediately it would take time for global supply chains to recover. Trump's war initiative has proved to be a colossal miscalculation.

Peace talks between America and Iran will continue over the weekend. Israel and Lebanon are holding talks during a ten day truce with Hezbollah. This is linked to Iran easing pressure on Hezbollah to prevent retaliation on its behalf during the cease fire. Russia is feigning concern about the peace talks alleging America is stalling for time to regroup its forces to add to uncertainty and tension on the battle front. Russia has been supplying drones to Iran and its allies to sustain the conflict, a lucrative business for a malicious stakeholder in the conflict.

After breakfast, I wrote a long email to Sara, which took me ages to compose as I was thinking so slowly. Then I walked for three quarters of an hour in Llandaff Fields to try and clear my head while Clare was cooking lunch. 

Each day the leaf canopy looks denser. Some of the horse chestnut trees are now coming into bloom with their distinctive tall white flower spike 'candles' opening. A lovely springtime sight. From our back garden we can see blue lilac blossoming in a garden opposite. Another tree has burst into leaf in the past few days so you can't see through it any more, for the first time since last autumn. I returned home and dozed for an hour after we'd eaten. Then I went for another walk in a vain effort to clear my head and it started to drizzle. The jacket I was wearing wasn't waterproof so I had to return home to avoid getting soaked. Then I absorbed myself in transcribing more of my Jamaica travel diary until the sky cleared of clouds and the sun shone an hour later. I went out again, with my head clearing at last, and took a few photos of trees in leaf, luminous as the sun approached the horizon, and completed my daily step quota before supper. 

We chatted with Owain later, he reminded me about preparing a Lasting Power of Attorney document for signing and registration. Clare's done hers but I haven't. Delayed and then lost in the brain fog when this was first proposed a month after the stroke - and that's now six months ago. Writing each day is something I can still do, but attending to detailed legal and financial information is still something that carries with it a fear of failure due to misunderstanding or simple undetected error. In many ways I've made a good recovery so far, but it's far from complete when my head swims, concentration evades me and I feel half awake, or just plain poorly. Sometimes I doubt I can improve any more than I have done already.

Jamaica revisited through my travel journal

A cloudy day with occasional sprinkles of rain, but not overcast. I had a fair night's sleep, but could have done with more. I woke up thinking about transcribing another of my travel journals. My previous writing project was reconstructing the Reggie Rabbit stories I wrote when the children were little. Rachel has been my editor, going through them in detail. I may not get around to seeing anything of my literary legacy published, but I would like my experiences and stories to be passed on to our children and grandchildren.

I recently found an assortment of writings made on my study tour of Jamaica in 1981. Most are on pads of airmail letter paper bought while I was travelling. All are in my thin spidery cack-handed script. The last time I referred to any of these after my return was in preparing talks about the role of the education system in Jamaican culture, and its influence on Jamaican family expectations of schooling in Britain forty five years ago. The country was Third World poor in those days, next to bankrupt. Bob Marley was alive then, singing his commentary on social injustice and the struggle of poor people to remain fully human against terrible odds. It was a life changing journey for me, visiting extended family members of Jamaican parishioners in Bristol, learning about their lives, what motivated some to emigrate and others to return disillusioned with social climate as much as the miserable British weather. 

Working on those papers wasn't easy and took over the day as the meds really slowed down my thinking. Clare cooked lunch, than sent me to collect my jacket from the dry cleaners afterwards,while she went out  on a different shopping mission. Coincidentally, we met each other twice in the course of our expeditions. Later at home, when I was trying to recall what I'd done during the day, my mind was a complete blank for a while, light headed too.  Eventually my memory yielded with two clear images of Clare in places where I'd recognised her in the street, wearing her distinctively coloured magenta puffer jacket. Then the memory of the afternoon fell into place.

Reading my travel notes and transcribing them is a lovely experience. It awakens strong images of place and time and people for me. Not least because my Practika SLR camera accompanied me. I took over 300 slide photos during my visit which I used in making educational presentations in subsequent years. Twenty years ago I digitized them all and they're now a treasure in my Google Photos archive. I didn't bother to transcribe the notes before as I always had the photos to remind me. In an amazing way, the notes awaken sensual memories of scents, sounds and atmosphere from fifty five years ago. 

I continued transcribing in the afternoon and early evening. Finally I walked for an hour to clear my head and get some vigorous exercise as darkness fell. After supper another couple of hours writing, needing to resist the temptation to keep writing way past bed time

Digital deprivation of liberty

Clouds and cloudbursts punctuating the day, but the air is warmer. Typical April I suppose. I slept fairly well but not long enough despite my new mattress. It's hard to shake off the sleepy light headed sensation the blood pressure meds produce, but I posted today's YouTube link to the Parish Daily Prayer thread on WhatsApp before getting up.

I had a red patch on my left wrist beneath the wrist strap of my Fitbit. As sweat accumulates beneath it dries out it becomes very acidic and leaves a sore mark on my skin. After processing medications the body exudes toxins through kidneys and bladder to eliminate them and through sweat. What comes out burns.

I went to St Catherine's for the Eucharist with half a dozen others. Over coffee afterwards Paul told us of his encounter with the new EU electronic entry and exit system, which is causing chaos all around fortress Europe with long queues and missed flights due to the electronic fingerprint recognition system's inability to read so many individuals' prints, particularly people whose ageing skin conductivity is low. Anto had this problem in his last encounter with EU passport control. Reports suggest the vast networked passport system is prone to crashes, not surprisingly if there's a large volume of read errors in scanning devices.

Nearer to home, new parking regulations are obliging us to pay for a visitor parking permit, which obliges users to register a vehicle and their eligibility by residence to apply and pay via a phone app or by SMS. Double yellow no-parking lines and white parking bay lines have recently been painted and yesterday new poles were installed displaying an information panel about the regulations. The regulations will be in force from the first of August. It's a far more complex arrangement than the existing physical permit for display in a vehicle windscreen. The text display in the 'mi-permit' phone app is tiny and contains far too much information poorly displayed. You can pay over the phone, or by SMS to use a free parking space if you can find one. I can imagine the system getting overwhelmed when a big sporting event takes place in the city centre. 

Increasing dependence on impersonal digital systems to manage every aspect of our lives with the promise of greater efficiency causes me much concern, as it's all too easy to get excluded from the digital world by complex demands to self-identify, or inability to use digital devices due to physical impairment. The impersonal element facilitates fraud, system hacking can steal or destroy vital data. The rapid expansion of AI capability adds another layer of vulnerability and threatens to reduce control over our lives.

After lunch I walked for and hour in Llandaff Fields and got caught in a heavy downpour, as I did on my way home from Mass earlier. I avoided the worse sheltering under a tree but then rumbles of thunder made me nervous, so I stepped clear of the tree instead of leaning against it. Fortunately the rain stopped soon after and the gentle breeze was a little warmer.

I recorded and edited Morning Prayer with a Reflection for the last Wednesday of the month after supper. As I can't tell in advance how well I will feel to tackle the task if my thinking slows down, and impairs my concentration I aim to prepare them well in advance so that all I have to do is post the YouTube link to WhatsApp. It's not been a particularly good day for me today, but the after-effects of medication diminish following exercise, and I can focus well enough to work in the evening. I just have to be careful not to keep working close to bed time or it will affect my sleep quality.

Medication feedback

Back under cloud cover again today, but I slept well, benefiting from slowly changing routine to get to bed an hour earlier. Despite this the blood pressure meds left me feeling light headed, mildly intoxicated and unsteady, though my balance was unaffected

Clare went to Penarth for her study group after breakfast. I spent the morning writing a biblical reflection and preparing another Morning Prayer edition for recording. I was slow to realise it was lunch time already when Clare got home and had done nothing to prepare lunch. She got busy quickly and ate at one o'clock as we usually do. 

Sil the pharmacist phoned, just as I started the washing up, so I had to return to it after the call. Reports on fasting blood cholesterol tests taken a month ago showed how high it had been and how much a lower dosage of statin had reduced the cholesterol level, though not quite as much as hoped for. It seems my diet is not exacerbating the problem. Rather than change medication he agreed I could continue taking the statin every other day, as the reduced dose makes a difference to how well I feel. I told him about the effect of the clot dispersing meds on my bowels, not that there's anything that can be done about that it seems. 

I also told him about the negative impact of being told I need heart surgery and a pacemaker, when I'm not experiencing noticeable cardio vascular symptoms, except perhaps when under additional stress, something which I avoid as much as possible. Living with the uncertainty of a random crisis is far from stress free if you're fairly fit and active as I am.

Today's blood pressure medication is affecting me more than usual, making my head swim. As I said to Sil, it feels a bit like taking a shot of raki on an empty stomach. Heaven knows why. Unfortunately, we have tickets for the WNO opera 'Blaze of Glory' for this evening. I felt anxious about how I'd cope with a late night and asked Clare to find someone to take my place. After half an hour's frustrating phone calls she found that her friend Gail is free and willing to take my place. I feel bad that I didn't think of this earlier when she was at study group this morning and could have asked if any of the members would like to join her. I'm not very alert today, just plodding along.

After lunch a new mattress from John Lewis' bedding department was delivered for the single bed I sleep in. It was uncomfortably hard to lie on and gives uneven support, even though it seems soft enough on initial contact. It replaces one which is so heavy it's difficult to manage. I hope the new one will be more forgiving. I need all the good sleep I can get to cope with brain fatigue.

I walked around Thompson's Park for an hour before supper. The grass on the lower level is carpeted with flowering wild garlic. The pond is fringed with harebells. A pair of moorhens are working on building a nest in the same spot as previous years. Three water pipes, part of a defunct fountain, project above pond water level close to each other. The birds collect twigs and lodge them in the triangular space between the pipes establishing a raft to serve as a foundation for the nest. Some years they incorporate a plastic bag in the structure which the wind has blown into the water. So ingenious.

There are patches of bluebells and a few primroses in the grass as well. A few red tulips stand out in the undergrowth next to a boundary wall. I wonder who planted bulbs there in an unlikely uncultivated spot. I spotted a couple of green parakeets which screeched high above me in the tree canopy and heard nuthatches calling to each other. All the delights of early Spring.

I called in the Co-op on my way home to buy a can of baked  beans to eat with a sprinkling of pimenton picante, on toast for supper. Fresh air and exercise helped to reduce the light headed sensation. I don't understand why the impact is so much worse on some days and not others.

For the first time in decades there are diplomatic exchanges between Lebanon and Israel. Talks between Iran and America could resume this week, following last week's diplomatic impasse. There are many uncertainties given Iranian backed Houthi insurgents and Lebanese Hezbollah. Threats from both are not yet eliminated, and Iran's distrust of America for starting the war when negotiations had only just started is not going to facilitate progress. 

Apart from wide ranging economic repercussions, Trump's closure of the Straight of Hormuz to tankers exporting oil from Iranian ports, starves Iran of income. Blockage of the Straight would violate the law of the sea regarding an international maritime highway open to the world. Supply shortages of oil and gas inflate costs and threaten global recession. Britain's dependency on oil and gas imports will be disastrous for the UK economy. I had a message from nephew Jules saying that Ireland is being hit hard by fuel shortages with price rises leading to protest from the farming community.

Trump's popularity is plummeting. Trump posted on his Truth Social platform 13 times from 9pm to 4:10am.  So he can't be getting much sleep. Is he losing the plot? He and his team had not thought through his coercive strategy in sufficient detail to yield positive results. Where will this lead? 

Digital blasphemy

I woke up to a bright sunny day after a poor night's sleep, plagued by worries about what the cardio consultant had to say on Friday, implying that I'm less stable physically than I thought I was. This hit home just as I thought my body was adjusting to  the impact of various medications, as I'm recovering a degree of resilience in coping with stroke after-effects. Losing a third of a night's sleep affects me cognitively. More typos when I write, not attentive enough to notice potential accidents. It's as bad as it was three months ago, very upsetting and demoralising.

Peace negotiations between America and Iran have failed to reach agreement. Some tanker traffic is passing through the Straight of Hormuz with Iran's permission, but Trump is now forcing the issue with a blockade on Iranian oil exports, which may well result in an end to the existing cease-fire. He has scathingly criticised Pope Leo's continuing criticism of the war. "Not even Hitler or Mussolini attacked the Pope so directly and publicly." said Italian church historian Massimo Fagioli. Extreme fundamentalist Christians and Zionists are hailing Trump as a Messiah figure fulfilling biblical prophecy. An AI generated image of him portrayed as a latter day saviour and healer has appeared on his social media. This digital blasphemy aroused so much negative comment it was deleted later. Another case of TACO: Trump Always Chickens Out. Let's hope this foolishness results in him losing conservative Christian support.

Five years ago John Bell of the Iona community went on record, denouncing Trump as a bogus messiah when he was wooing the American religious right, posing with a bible in his hand making his pitch for the presidency. No truly messianic figure could ever promote salvation by violence and causing suffering to others. He thrives on coercive behaviour, propagating lies and deceiving the masses. But you can't fool all of the people all of the time. By the time his supporters realise he's not the saviour they believe him to be, terrible destructive things could happen which affect the whole world.

Clare and I went to the King's Road Pharmacy after breakfast to order our next batches of medication. This requires a week's notice in person. I'm not yet sure about ordering through the NHS app, not sure if I trust myself to do it correctly with swimming light headedness and poor co-ordination. It means planning well ahead if I find I can't rely on working the app properly. 

After putting in our medication orders we went to Jason's greengrocer's shop to stock up on fresh veggies, then went to  the recently opened Coffi Lab for a drink. The website tells a detailed story that would appeal to aficionados and dog lovers, but neither of us thought much of the flavour of their own roast coffee, said to have been grown in Costa Rica.

When we returned home I cooked a sugo of lentil and veg to accompany pasta for lunch, then I went to bed and slept for an hour until I felt fresh enough to go to the pharmacy and buy some aspirins. The number I have left doesn't match the number I need to take with the remaining dipyridamole, of which I have enough to last until the prescription is ready to collect.

Clare went to choir practice after an early supper. Just after she left, Rachel called and we had a lovely long WhatsApp chat. After a busy musical weekend she was in good spirits, as her gigs went well and were well appreciated. She got a hundred dollar tip in addition to performance earnings and was much encouraged by the feedback she received. We discussed the Beatles' song 'Eleanor Rigby' which she'd been asked to accompany on 'cello a singer using a digital keyboard with an auto-transpose setting. She was finding the fingering difficult, and no wonder, as it was in D flat minor!

After a little walk for some fresh air, bed very early tonight. 

Museum of the Moon

 I slept a good seven hours last night. The double bed is far more comfortable than my single one. I was more relaxed and Clare and I didn't disturb each other much at all. I enjoyed the company. I felt lonely sleeping on my own, when I was unwell after rounds of bum surgery seven years ago. Even more so over the past six months.

A cold cloudy day with occasional sunshine. After a family breakfast I went on my own to St Katherine's for the Eucharist, with about forty others. With so much to give thanks for, I just couldn't stay home and miss the service, so I took them with me in heart and mind. lunch was ready when I got back as I'd stayed chatting for a while after the service. After lunch Owain, Kath and Anto walked into town to the National Museum of Wales, while Clare and I waited for a bus to take us. The other were already waiting for us when we arrived.

The museum was crowded, busy and very noisy, enough to make me wonder if I'd cope with the intense stimulus of the moment. Well, it took time, but I did adjust to it. There's a big model of the moon hanging beneath the central dome of the entrance hall, the space branded as 'The Museum of the Moon'. You can to walk around it at ground floor and gallery level - a perfect photo opportunity for many, including Kath and Owain. I contented myself with watching and enjoying being there with them enjoying themselves. We spent time in a quiet gallery looking at some of the collection of Turner paintings. Clare and I resolved to return for the current Gwen John exhibition of painting another day. Clare and I then went to a Coffee#1 on the Friary for a cup of tea while the others looked at an exhibition of fossils and reconstructions of prehistoric creatures, and joined us later. Owain then took his leave of us and went for a train back to Bristol. Kath and Anto walked back while Clare and I took a very crowded bus back to Canton to walk home.

A young mum wearing a burka and a face mask kindly offered me the folding seat her small boy was sitting on. He was looking a bit overwhelmed by crowd. I thanked her and declined, as I had acquired an overhead strap plus a nearby pole to hang on to. We chatted briefly. She sounded as if she'd been raised and educated in Britain, and was at ease and confident about chatting to a male stranger on a crowded bus. It was a brief moment of courteous respect and humour, which lifted my spirits.

Kath and Anto arrived home after we did. Having already packed the car, we said our goodbyes and waved them away on their journey back to Kenilworth. What a lovely couple of days. They passed by so quickly. Now the house is quiet again, with a tinge of sadness and a few tears. I uploaded photos of the weekend wrote for half an hour then headed for bed, wishing we all lived closer together.

Unique birthday

Heaven help us, eighty one today, a number with special properties. Three to the power of four. Eight and one makes nine which is two squared. Did I stop to wonder if I'd make it this far when my life changed due to the stroke? I'm not sure I did, as I was too busy observing myself, taking note of the changes, and making an effort to write, and develop good new habits of noticing and compensating for mild visual impairment. It's been far harder to live with the impact of the various medications, and yesterday's verdict from the cardio consultant.

I lost a lot of sleep last night, distressed by yesterday's consultation. Waking early up to a bright sunny day didn't help. Fortunately my head was fairly clear without the medication having an adverse effect. I had birthday cards to open, greeting messages and the gift of a new novel from Clare to go with Saturday breakfast pancakes. I tried without success to doze in my arm chair to make up for lost sleep, and  cooked myself a quick pasta dish with mushrooms, garlic and passata for lunch to fend off the effect of low blood sugar. 

Kath and Anto arrived shortly after, then we went out together and walked in the cold wind for three quarters of an hour. Clare came with us part of the way, then made an excuse to return home to prepare my birthday cake, and let Owain in when he arrived from Bristol. When the three of us arrived home he was there to greet us, and the cake with candles lit was waiting in welcome for sharing with a cup of afternoon tea. Then there was a lengthy discussion about ordering special take-away food for supper, as I didn't think I could cope with eating in a noisy restaurant, feeling so tired.

We ordered food from a Lebanese restaurant, an assortment of dishes, mostly vegetarian. but including grilled halloumi and spicy chicken pieces. I settled for an interesting mixed salad as I wasn't feeling like a heavy meal, but tasted some of the other mezes as well. We drank a bottle of Beaujolais Villages, a good quality Gamay. It's the first glass of wine I've drunk since Christmas day with lots of water, not knowing what impact it might have on me, given the disruptive effect of the clot busting meds on my digestive system. I enjoyed the taste. It reminded me of life in Switzerland. although Bourgogne Gamay was more to my taste than supermarket Gamay de Geneve thirty years ago.

It was lovely to sit around en famille and chat until bed time, although we all missed having Rachel with us, of course. Clare and I went to be early and shared a bed for the first time in a long while, taking the risk of disturbing each other, so that Owain could sleep in my bed with Kath and Anto in the attic - rather noisy tonight with the wind and rain.

Unwelcome birthday news

Cold and cloudy again, and not enough sleep. Although my head was clear and sharp, I wasn't in my best  form. With a cardiology appointment at twenty to two in UHW, I allowed plenty of time to get there by public transport, as I wanted to see how long the outbound journey would take for future planning. I can afford a taxi, but it's good to know how long it takes on a two bus journey, if I don't have time or energy to for the fifty minute walk. My early phone alarm reminded me that I needed to make a sandwich to eat, as I would be travelling there through lunch time. I was lucky to get a bus for the twenty minute ride into town straight away, then a short walk to pick up a number nine outside Wyndham Arcade for the half hour ride to the Heath hospital. I arrived five minutes late at Cardiology reception due to the difficulty of finding the place, tucked away at the far end of the first floor. I was weighed and measured and had my blood pressure taken - high as usual - then after a short wait, I met Consultant Dr O'Neill who told me troubling things. 

My leaky heart valve is getting worse. I may need heart valve surgery at some future date. Plus there's a risk from an electrical blip in the heart rhythm which could cause me to faint, even though I am walking fit, not breathless, and have no pain. He proposed fitting a pacemaker. I'm not happy about either of these options. Whether I do or don't decide to get in the surgical queue when it becomes necessary there's risk either way. Such uncertainty on the eve of my eighty first birthday. 

I've received the blessed gift of a life that has been fulfilling and happy. Whatever time remains to me is uncertain and random. It could be snatched away from me in a brief crisis for all involved. I experienced grief at the thought of leaving my family behind when I had the stroke without knowing if I'd recover. I'm experiencing the same grief now in the light of this unwelcome new knowledge, and I weep. 

I don't think we can live entirely in the moment as if nothing else matters. Who we are, relationships with each other, hold memories of the past and hopes for the future, bound together by love. I'm blessed to have known the love of a family, received and given in all its variety. What am I without those who have come into my life over the years? My wife, daughters, son, foster daughter, grandchildren, nephews and nieces, in-laws, all the generations I knew who came before me, who knew me before I knew myself. So much to give God thanks for, so much love.