No respite from medication

I went to bed early and stayed in bed until it was time to take my meds, nearly ten hours, but only seven hours of that was sleep. I have to make myself drink at least a litre of water when I get up, no matter how I feel about it, or else I feel poorly. I have a lingering thick head and don't know if it's something to do with the meds, or just fallout from the stroke. I visited the GP surgery after breakfast and saw a locum doctor I didn't know, to discuss my MSDEC discharge treatment plan. It looks as if I'm stuck with taking blood thinners and statins as well as the extra blood pressure med, despite their drastic diuretic effect. 

I expressed concern about this and was given an appointment for a blood test to find out what impact this has on blood sodium levels. The doctor noted with approval my daily exercise regime, as it helps with lowering blood pressure. At the end of the conversation I forgot to request a prescription renewal for the blood pressure medication that gives me trouble. I had to return and collect one after lunch.

When I got home there were a couple of letters from the UHW cardio specialist. An appointment for an echo cardiogram and a report on my heart murmur, based on recent tests. The aortic valve shows further signs of deterioration due to ageing, but isn't yet cause for concern. No idea if it's related to high blood pressure.

I had an email from Fr Dean asking if I could cover the Remembrance Sunday Mass at St Dyfrig and St Samson's. I felt sad having to explain to him that not only can I no longer drive, but also in my present condition not well enough to take a service or preach. I don't know yet if my years of public ministry have come to an end. Time will tell whether or not I improve enough to re-engage, but acknowledge that I may have to let go of one activity that has added meaning and purpose to my life for the past sixty years.

Clare made a tasty pasta with spinach dish for lunch. Then I went to the surgery to collect the prescription and collected the meds from the pharmacy opposite before walking in Pontcanna Fields. Rain earlier left pavement gutters and potholes overflowing with water. It was almost impossible to avoid soaked trouser legs with cars passing by in narrow stretches of the road where it's necessary for a car to drive closer to the pavement. Few drivers think to slow down to avoid spraying pedestrians. At this time of year fallen leaves block drain covers so rainwater doesn't flow away fast enough. At least it didn't rain while I was walking in the park and sun shone out of dispersing cloud.

After supper I returned to reading Marquez's novel 'Amor en el tiempo de cólera' for the first time since I had the stroke. I was so grateful to find that I could still read a proper book with ease despite the impairment in distance field of vision. And, more importantly, able to read with understanding in Spanish as well as I could before. I love his intimate way of telling a story and depicting the scene in which his characters play out their life dramas with just enough detail to make it come alive. I often find myself laughing aloud at his portrayal of people. I read for well over an hour before feeling tired, then had a shower before bed.

 

Crossed wires

Another day of waking up to an overcast sky and drizzle. Another poor night's sleep. I didn't feel well, with the stress of a hospital deadline to meet and the cardio monitor to return intact. A taxi took me to UHW after breakfast for this purpose. I was relieved to see the back of it. It was impossible to relax and feel at ease with the device strapped around my waist, demanding care when removing clothes to avoid dropping it and/or dislodging its sensors from my chest. 

On the return journey by bus, I had a call from the cardio unit telling me that I hadn't returned my monitor, and should have done yesterday. Well, yesterday, my diary had a note to expect a call from the consultant cardiologist which didn't happen. I think I was informed of this when I was in hospital. Then I was given the device fitting appointment last week, plus a letter for an appointment to return it today. Crossed wires? Not sure whether I was mistaken or the medics. As if that wasn't enough, I then called at the MSDEC ward reception desk to inquire about medication renewal and was told I'd been discharged back into the care of our GP. It's the first time for me to hear of this. Crossed wires again?

It took me an hour to return home by bus. Lunch was ready early as Clare mistook the hour to start cooking. It was most welcome anyway. Owain returned to Bristol after lunch. It was lovely to have his cheerful company and calm common sense when I got myself into a panic, which seems to happen if I'm tired and under stress. My brain sometimes doesn't work fast enough for me to cope with everything that lands on me in one go. I hope I will recover resilience as time goes by.

I visited the surgery to ask about my  post discharge treatment plan, and was given a GP appointment tomorrow morning. I then went to the shops to buy rye bread and some chicken legs to cook. Rachel called after supper and chatted to both of us in turn. She's looking forward to a home visit and has a flight booked to bring her over for New Year. She'll be staying for a fortnight, so we will celebrate Christmas en famille in the Eastern Orthodox way on January 6th.

Dining discomfort

 Overcast with rain today. Another disturbed night with not enough sleep. As I walked to St Catherine's under the brolly for the Eucharist, a passing van went through an overflowing pavement gutter next to me and sprayed water over my lower legs. Luckily I was carrying an empty veggie bag on the same side as the gutter which shielded me from getting my trousers completely soaked. We were eight for the service, taken by Fr Andrew as Fr Sion is on leave. The church hall is hired out again for filming a children's TV series on S4C, so coffee and chat took place in church after the service. By the time we parted company I was relieved to find that it had stopped raining. I collected this week's veggies from Chapter on my way home.

As Clare proposed going out for a meal this evening I had a light lunch of salad and a can of sardines, then a snooze in the chair to follow before an afternoon walk in Llandaff Fields. Dull routine, but necessary. We went out to Stefano's for supper at six. I didn't find dining out a comfortable experience. Background noise from diners chatting and an Italian pop music sound track I found overwhelming. Nothing was really loud but the overall soundscape was too much stimulus for me, making me withdraw into myself. I didn't realise how much I need a great deal of peace and quiet space for thinking, remembering and processing experiences since the stroke. I wasn't the best company for Clare and Owain, I'm afraid.

When we got home, I spent the rest of the evening until bed time writing a Reflection on Matthew's story of the Holy Family's flight into Egypt, my mind filled with images of refugees fleeing Gaza city on the coast road, and parents mourning dead children.

Remembering St Simon's Baptist MIlls

 I had a poor night's sleep, disturbed by the need to empty my bladder half a dozen times. So unpleasant. The sun shone briefly at first light, then the sky clouded over. It's the feast of Saints Simon and Jude today, two of the Twelve called by Jesus, about whom little is known. It's an occasion of reminiscence for me, reaching back to my student days in Bristol.

In Churchill Hall of residence, one of my fellow students was Voulie Maroulis, a Greek Cypriot lad from Cardiff Bay. In the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, January 1964, Voulie invited me to go with him to a unity prayer service in Bristol's Greek Orthodox Church on Stapleton Road. It's still there at the foot of the M32 urban motorway, distinctive because its pointed spire was capped for safety's sake decades ago. It had been the Anglican Parish church of St Simon the Apostle Baptist Mills in a densely populated working class area of East Bristol, built in 1847 in the Victorian Gothic style, one of half a dozen Parish churches serving the huge industrial artisan community which grew up along the banks of the river Frome in the 19th century. 

Bristol's prodigious wealth led to the establishment of missions and then church building in the area - too many to be sustainable long term with a shifting population. In 1956 St Simon's Parish was united with St Agnes, its neighbour on the north side of Stapleton Road a couple of hundred yards away and the building sold to Bristol's thriving Greek Orthodox church. At that time it served all of the city's Eastern Orthodox communities as it was the only one of its kind.

The service I attended with Voulie was life changing for me. At a time when I was discovering the catholic tradition of worship and spirituality through meeting Anglican and Roman Catholic fellow students, I was immersed in the profoundly other-worldly experience of Byzantine ritual, music and profound silence. On that occasion Oliver Tompkins, Bishop of Bristol was an honoured guest at the service. I was drawn to the ethos of Orthodoxy, and over time began to find in it the same depth of devotion as I found in traditional Prayer Book Anglicanism. 

I joined the ecumenical fellowship of St Alban and St Sergius and learned a lot about Eastern Christianity from lectures and people I met. These included Deacon Nicholas Behr, a recent graduate of St Sergius Russian Orthodox seminary in Paris, who performed the deacon's role, leading prayer in Old Church Slavonic at a Greek Orthodox liturgy, an experience of cultural diversity I'd never come across before. He became the pioneer parish priest of the Russian church in Bristol, earning his living as a carpenter, finding a redundant church building which had belonged to a charismatic sect, and renovating it for use, thanks to his skills - a remarkable example of self supporting ministry serving eastern European exiles in the city and wider region.

When I returned to Bristol, to serve as parish priest in 1975, it was as Vicar of St Agnes with St Simon. On the Sunday before my induction I celebrated Mass at the Parish Church of St Jude in neighbouring Easton, where the Vicar was an elderly Welsh cleric Fr Tommy White. When he retired the small Anglo-Catholic stronghold of a parish was merged in a grouping of  half a dozen Easton parishes, with a new built parish church, Easton Family Centre with a definite evangelical ethos. St Jude's building was sold and became a Judokwai. Five Easton Parishes were merged into one. The same happened on the north side of Stapleton Road too with St Paul's Area team ministry merging five parishes into one. 

Huge social changes occurred in Bristol's inner city area in the second half of the twentieth century, and the decline of the church in grass roots communities, from the Victorian heyday of investment in parish missions, schools and churches to the multiple mergers and redundancies that are symptomatic of decline in life of the church in Britain in the late 20th and 21st century.

Clare went to her study group in Penarth this morning, and I cooked lunch in time for her return. Taking out a bag of frozen peas from the freezer drawer led to a problem getting the over filled draw back into place. It got stuck and nothing I could do would free it without breaking. My hands got very cold trying to move it. Fortunately Clare returned on time, and proved far more skillful than I at negotiating the drawer back into place. After we'd eaten I succumbed to sleep for an hour and a quarter. I needed it for sure. Then, a walk in Llandaff Fields. I couldn't shake off a lack of energy feeling. When I returned I was faced with the usual chore of emptying the house rubbish containers and putting out the bins for collection tomorrow morning. It was such a physical effort, so frustrating, I don't know why. In my diary a reminder to expect a call from the cardio specialist this afternoon, but no call came. I'm seeing him on Thursday anyway, when the cardio monitor is due to be returned. It's been a misery having to wear it all week. I wonder what data it has recorded and how this will inform whatever treatment I receive next.

Owain arrived at supper time. He's come to stay for a few days and work remotely from here.  We sat together and watched a hilarious episode of 'Fawlty Towers', screened in memory of Prunella Scales. Her death was announced this morning. It's lovely to have Owain's company again.

Improving hopefully

It was good to wake up again to bright sunshine. Although I didn't sleep as much as I think I need, I made the most of the morning by getting out for a walk in Llandaff Fields after breakfast and shopping for beans and mushrooms on my way back. Clare left early for an appointment in Llandough so I cooked lunch. For once I didn't feel sleepy after we'd eaten. 

I wrote and recorded a biblical reflection on betrayal in John 13 to accompany Wednesday's Morning Prayer and edited it later. Ruth has encouraged me to resume regular contributions to the Parish WhatsApp Daily Prayer thread. I'd like to, but must avoid putting myself under more pressure than is good for me while I'm still recovering from the stroke. A 'staged return' is what I need to aim for, in the modern jargon. 

I had another walk in Llandaff Fields late afternoon to complete my step quota for the day. Pleasing to feel I have the energy for a modest day's activity without feeling the need to doze off. Something is changing for the better inside me I think.

After supper, I watched a couple of episodes of 'Trigger Point' before turning in for the night.

Posting again

I woke up in sunshine after a good long night's sleep thanks to the extra hour. Even so I can't escape sleepiness and slow thinking. Whether it's the state of my brain or the effect of medication I don't know. Disappointingly, cloud cover returned later in the morning, imitating my mental condition. 

Clare decided to go to this afternoon's Welsh Eucharist, so I went to St Catherine's on my own. No Sunday Club today as it's half term this week. We were just over thirty in church. Mother Sue curate at the Res celebrated and preached. Good to hear a lively fresh new voice. 

A couple of days ago I wrote a biblical reflection on the experience of having a stroke, appreciating the kindness and prayer support I've received since. I posted it on the WhatsApp Daily Prayer thread this afternoon. It's six weeks today since it happened, and stopped me in my tracks from contributing to the teaching ministry of the parish through my contributions on Whats App, a hidden physical vulnerability 'put me to silence' as the Psalmist would say. It's something I've enjoyed doing over the past four and a half years. A wholesome mental and spiritual discipline. I'd like to resume contributing regularly, but I have yet to find out if I can sustain the effort of working to a deadline, given how sleepy I get on times

After lunch, I didn't doze off, but got out early for a walk, aware of sunset being an hour earlier by the clock. I had to take the brolly with me as drizzle persisted, plus gusts of wind driving it home. Clare was leaving for church when I reached home. I enjoyed listening to Jazz Record Requests on Radio Three while I was writing.

Over the past few days I've searched fruitlessly for a wireless dongle that's meant to go with a mouse I've had for some time but not often used. I have drawers with legacy items of hardware I've been loath to get rid of, retained 'just in case' including two wi-fi mouses (or is it mice?) that on testing properly turn out to be dead. Another one is missing its own wireless dongle, and wouldn't respond to any other. On inspection I discovered it was both a wi-fi and a Bluetooth device. I hadn't realised until now. What a relief! I don't need to buy another one. And when I think of the amount of time I wasted hunting through containers and drawers of electronic bits and pieces to find another dongle when I didn't need one!

After supper I watched another couple of episodes of spy drama 'Incognito'. Much of it was shot in semi darkness with a lot of pointless violence. I couldn't make any sense of the ending. A waste of time.

Summer time ends

It's cheering to wake up to bright sunshine for a change, even if I slept less than I needed and felt sleepy for much of the morning. Clare made rye flour pancakes for breakfast, with a distinctive pleasant flavour and texture of their own. Having run out of the medication tick sheets Owain devised by Owain when I came out of hospital with several extra drugs to take during the day, I found his original pdf among my files on Google Drive, and was able to amend it for a re-print. As I wondered how to make the revision I discovered that Google Chrome lets me edit a pdf and print from it on my Linux workstation. Useful!

After lunch I slept for an hour, making up for the hour's sleep lost in the night. Then I walked in Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields until tea time. It was bright and sunny. but there was a chilling wind again. At least it cleared my head, and sharpened my vision a little, prompting me to take a few photos. I was grateful for the absence of rain showers making it feel even colder. Owain called me when I was out in the park and Kath called us at supper time, both checking that we're OK, which fortunately we are.

Summertime ends tonight and the clocks go back an hour, which means that sunset will be even earlier in the afternoon. An extra effort will be required to get out earlier for a walk, to avoid walking in the dark. In the past I didn't mind, but now I'm no longer seeing as well in low light and navigating confidently. I hope that the clot dispersing medication I'm taking will reduce pressure on pathways between the optic nerves and the brain and improve visual clarity and sharpness.  It's certainly better than it was a month ago, but I won't know if there'll be a legacy from the stroke until I visit the University Optometrists.

After supper I watched a couple of episodes of a Dutch spy thriller until it was time to put the clocks back.

Learning patience

Another day of cloud and sunny breaks, with occasional assaults from heavy downpours and bursts of wind, so unpredictable it's impossible to guess what the weather is going to be like when you go outdoors.

Despite the usual interruptions, a relaxing night's sleep with nothing to report about symptoms on a check sheet that accompanies the heart monitor. I felt sleepy again after breakfast, maybe because I am relaxing as I recover from the stress of emergency hospitalization on top of the stroke itself. I went back to bed and slept another hour and twenty minutes. Then I went out to Tesco's for some food shopping. Stiff joints and legs made the walk slow hard going on the way home with only ten kilos in my rucksack. Clare cooked lunch while I was out.

As I've not spent much time using them lately, both Windows laptops need updating and re-charging. I got around to it after we'd eaten, More time wasted machine minding if you're using an app subjected to updating. Despite its limitations Chromebook updates just happen when switching on or off. Maintenance free in effect. I've discovered that one wireless mouse no longer works and the wi-fi dongle for another is missing, heaven knows where it's hiding.

I was conscious of the nights drawing in earlier when I went for a walk in Llandaff Fields at five, armed with my brolly to fend off short bursts of rain. It was a precarious experience with gusts of wind. Low cloud seemed to accelerate the fading of the light. On my my home through familiar side streets, low light gave me difficulty navigating my way and I made a couple of wrong turns. It was as if I'd lost my sense of direction. What would be automatic way-finding for me wasn't working normally. Visual cues from my surroundings weren't functioning properly in my slowed down brain to register my location on an habitual memorised route. Quite disconcerting. I begin to understand what it's like for Clare whose sense of direction is impaired by her advancing glaucoma.

After supper, I listened to 'The Archers' and the previous behind the scenes podcast. Always interesting and entertaining.

People tell me all the time to take it easy. Initially I was anxious to learn what damage the stroke might have done and work at restoring what physical functions I risked losing: physical coordination, balance, memory paths, just by exercising them. Walking, typing, speaking, seeing, general resilience after an excess of stimulus, all needed to be worked on, put to the test. I need to find out how I am now, and adjust. I'm overwhelmed by tiredness if I push myself too hard physically or mentally. I have to slow down. Rest claims me now, I don't resist. I'm learning to be patient with myself and not fight against my body. Trouble is I'm not good at this, and easily get frustrated.

End of life for the United Services Mess

It took me a while to figure out how to attach the cardio monitor securely to my pyjama trousers last night. Once I got used to it and settled down to sleep, the night was no more broken than usual by getting up to empty my bladder. I have to be sure to drink plenty of water when I get up or I feel terrible. It's not easy if I get distracted. Clare had a saxophone lesson after breakfast which drove me back upstairs to recover in bed. I'm supposed to make a note of symptoms like dizziness or palpitation and their timing. My heart rate rises when I get up at night, but it doesn't stay high for long, and I've not had anything nearly as scary as the palpitations which returned me to A&E a second time after the stroke. I'm exercising moderately avoiding stressful situations as far as possible and hopefully this keeps my blood pressure from going high for long periods.

I went for a walk around the streets before lunch. A couple of teenagers in school uniform accosted me with questions for a social survey they're doing about Pontcanna for a school project. They were sounding opinions about quality of life and available amenities in the area. I'm not sure if their teacher designed the survey or if they did. An interesting project. I wonder what they will learn from it?

I slept for an hour after lunch. I felt as if I could have slept for longer. When I woke up I sent an email to Sir Norman Lloyd Edwards President of the United Services Mess, to say that I had a stroke and wouldn't be fit and well enough to deliver the Mess Grace at this year's Remembrance dinner.

My afternoon walk in Thompson's Park was hard going, not least because of the chilling wind that gusted from time to time. I took my TZ 95 camera out with me for the first time since the stroke, as it wasn't dull, but clouds with sunshine and occasional sprinkles of rain. I only took a few pictures of trees turning colour and the autumnal carpet of yellow and brown leaves.

When I returned there was a reply from Sir Norman to say there would be no more Mess Remembrance dinners, as the 116 year old institution had voted to close down for lack of membership and income. So it turns out that I was the last Hon Chaplain to say Grace and speak the traditional words from the hymn 'O Valiant Hearts' used in the Mess Remembrance ceremony during the meal.

Tranquil you lie, your knightly virtue proved / Your memory hallowed in the land you loved.

There's an old saying among military veterans, taken from a parody of a hymn: 'Old soldiers never die, they just fade away'. The same is true of their institutions too. British armed forces have down sized and are less visible in public life, except on ceremonial occasions. Many soldiers commute to work rather than live in military bases, their patterns of socialisation are different from the way they were in times past. Originally, the United Services Mess provided a meeting place in the city for those stationed at Maindy Barracks or a naval unit on the coast, or St Athan Aerodrome. This doesn't work socially for modern professional soldiers. Post 1945 generations of service personnel eventually became veterans themselves. numbers slowly diminish and Mess members are not being replaced, so it's no longer sustainable, as a social organisation.

On occasions during my time at St John's the church was asked to take custody of a veteran's association banner, when there were no more members of the organisation left to parade with it. It was suspended from the wall of the side chapel, silently telling a story of past generations of servicemen, now part of the nation's past. St John's city parish church has commemorative plaques to honour fallen USM members, but there never was a banner to be paraded at annual services or laid up at the end of its life. I wonder how the story of the Mess will be remembered at St John's in times to come?

This evening I wrote a biblical reflection on the phrase 'Keep alert' in the light of my stroke experience. I'll publish it on the Parish What'sApp Daily Prayer thread, when I think it's ready.

Wired up

Up for breakfast at eight thirty. Phoned for a taxi at nine to take me to my 10.30 appointment at UHW MSDEC.  It came sooner than expected so I arrived there half an hour early. There seemed to be some confusion about a missed appointment, perhaps because I postponed one at the GP surgery yesterday, because of the appointment this morning. Maybe the system hadn't updated right across the network. Anyway, blood pressure check was satisfactory, and a blood sugar test proved normal. So relieved there was no diabetic reaction to the high level of stress on my circulation in recent weeks. My finger was pricked and a drop of blood sucked into a diagnostic chip attached to a digital device to produce a blood sugar reading instantly.

I was finished by midday with a two hour wait until my next appointment, to fit me wtih an ECG monitor to record my heart activity 24/7 for the next week with four electrodes attached to my chest. I had difficulty finding the place where this was to take place, as I had incorrectly copied the detailed location into my diary. It wasn't easy to find, and the instructions I was given didn't work for someone unfamiliar with the hospital layout and what directions I received referred to. I was so disorientated I had to ask a staff member to accompany me more than once, which made me feel old and pathetic. But I got there on time in the end.

The last time I had to wear a device in aid of diagnosis, it was a blood pressure monitor. It was quite an unpleasant experience. It went off at timed intervals, I wasn't sure if I was meant to just carry on with whatever I was doing, or stop and let the device take its soundings. I'm nor sure anyone really knew what I was supposed to do. With the ECG monitor it's a matter of keeping the electrodes attached and sweat free, and being careful not to get the monitor or the electrodes wet. I'm asked to make a note of sleep and wake up times and report any unusual symptoms, though it's not clearly explained what they want.

To get home, I took a bus to town and another from there to Pontcanna. It took three quarters of an hour to get from UHW to the city centre. The buses were unbearably noisy and jerky in rush hour traffic. I was glad to walk a circuit of Llandaff Fields before reaching home in time for my tea-time pills.

Owain called and told us about his holiday in Berlin, a city he's fond of. He did a deejay streaming session for an internet radio channel while he was there and spent time with Swiss ex-pat mates from school days. Hopefully, he'll be over to see us again in the coming week.

After supper, I watched a couple of episodes of a series called 'Borderlands' which features a couple of detectives, one from the RUC and the other from the Irish Gardai, who are obliged to work together on cross border crime with all the complications and tensions arising from different histories and jurisdictions in addition to their temperaments and personal histories. An interesting take on a divided Ireland post Good Friday Agreement and post Brexit.

And now to bed, to find out how I can organise myself to pass the night wired up.

Improvements

Thankfully, a better night's sleep with fewer interruptions less time awake, even a spell of deeper sleep. I dozed until nine when the medication notification on my phone went off. When I went down for breakfast, I saw blue sky between the clouds for the first time in many days. An intense migraine aura developed. It persisted for about ten minutes and disappeared as suddenly as it arrived. No painful aftermath! Normally the aura comes if I've been gritting my teeth and my jaw muscles tighten. This time my jaw was relaxed and so was the rest of me. Is this to do with the clot on my occipital lobe dispersing? Tingling in my left hand seems to be diminishing. Admittedly its intensity varies during the day. Heaven knows why.

I believe my distance vision is now sharper than it has been since the stroke. I won't know yet about the field of vision in my left eye until I go out for a walk. I think the brain fog is lifting a bit more. Mucous has cleared away the remnants of soluble packing from my repaired left nostril, so I have clear airflow in both again. That'll make a difference to sleep without my mouth falling open to breathe, leaving me with a horrible dry mouth. Small changes, but they make a difference, above all to well-being.

I phoned the surgery to re-schedule my GP blood pressure test, due later today, since I'm due to have one at UHW tomorrow morning. Kath called me on her way to work, sharing her frustrations with the Arts Council's on-line grants application process which is still hardly fit for purpose despite a disastrous system crash last year.

In the morning mail, confirmation of our car insurance cancellation and notification of a refund. The next letter I opened was from the DVLA, containing a car tax refund cheque - how old fashioned! Together with the scrap value cash, I'm about £400 better off for getting rid of the car, plus whatever I save on fuel.

Clare's study group arrived for their session confining me to the lounge for the duration. After lunch I  snoozed for a while, then went to the Post Office to deposit the DVLA refund cheque. On my way back I bought tomatoes and grapes in Tesco's. Ir's cloudy but the sun is shining through. I think we might get away with a few light showers today in Cardiff, despite dire warnings of heavy rain tonight and tomorrow. After tea I walked around Llandaff Fields for an hour carrying my brolly. Only in the last ten minutes did I need to use it.

After supper I watched a French Canadian mystery crime series set in rural Quebec, set in the vicinity of a Benedictine abbey. Not sure what to make of it yet.

Adding handles to the home

Waking up to another grey overcast day, after a fairly good night's sleep. The meds I'm on cause me to pee and I have to drink a lot of water before and during breakfast to avoid dehydration. I had breakfast and meds, then needed to go back to bed as I felt unusually sleepy. Another side effect? I must enquire.

We had an hour long visit from Peter who works for 'Care and Repair' to fit grab handles in the shower, bathroom and bedroom. This will help keep us stable and safe in a few places where we might be at risk of slipping or falling. It's something you don't imagine you need until vulnerability strikes you. I think I'm  stable on my feet for the most part, except perhaps at night when I'm sleepy, relaxed and less vigilant. Better to be safe than sorry. 

I phoned MSDEC before lunch with my queries about symptoms and side effects and had a call back from a medic this afternoon while I was out walking. I'm now booked for a blood pressure check and a blood test at UHW on Wednesday morning before a heart monitor is fitted in the afternoon to investigate what's going on. I'm not sure where all this is leading, but the heart consultant will be in touch for a briefing on what the EEG and ECG have revealed thus far.

A walk in Llandaff Fields after lunch. The cloud broke up and the sun shone, but there was still a ten minute rain shower to shelter from. I went up to the bus stop near the Met University to find out about buses to UHW. The service isn't good and takes a long time. It looks like I'll need to take a taxi. I don't think I have enough energy yet for the hour's walk.

Clare went out to a choir practice after supper. I watched an episode of the Scottish detective series 'Karen Pirie', but think I may have watched it or part of it before I had the stroke, as the story line seemed familiar in places. 

Side effects?

I woke up from a good night's sleep to a morning of rain, and walked under my brolly to St Catherine's for the Eucharist. We were about three dozen adults and a dozen bubbly children. Getting there was an effort with stiff legs. I felt sleepy as well as foggy brained, aftermath of the covid vaccine I reckon. Sebastian, now a toddler of 18 months, was there with Rachel his mother. He came to the end of the pew where I was sitting at the end of the service, gave me a big smile of recognition, approached me and placed the grass seed he'd been clutching on the pew beside me. A moment of delight on a drab morning.

After lunch, Kath returned to Kenilworth having done a grocery stock-up trip to Tesco's for us. Keeping a variety of bread flours is important for us, as we prefer to eat what we bake for ourselves. Normally I buy several kilos worth at one time, but routine shopping has been disrupted for the past couple of weeks. 

I went out for a walk and soon had to return for a brolly as it started to rain again and continued for the next two hours. I returned with wet feet and trousers, much annoyed and frustrated. I can't just stay in. I need to keep moving to prevent my legs from stiffening and making it even harder to walk. I don't know what impact the various meds I'm taking on my musculature. I must ask next time I see a consultant.

A quiet evening. I didn't fancy watching anything, and had a long chat with Rachel instead. She's waiting for her American passport. It will enable her to travel to and from the UK without needing a re-entry visa. On our own again tonight, but not feeling as fragile as a fortnight ago 

Weekend recovery

Another overcast day, another good night's sleep, getting up for meds and a pancake breakfast, then back to bed, still sleepy. It could be the impact of yesterday's covid jab I suppose. I can certainly feel the bruise in the injection site today. Chris popped by briefly mid-morning to sign Clare's LPA document. 

Jasmine sent us photos from Tokyo. She's a confident solo traveller at eighteen! She's had a part time job for the past year or so and saved up enough money to pay for the trip herself. Japanese culture has been a fascination of hers for some time. She loves making sushi and has treated us to sushi which she made with Clare in our kitchen.

I went to Tesco's for a few items of food shopping. The streets were busy with people walking to Leckwith Stadium for this afternoon's football match. Kath arrived after lunch and we three went for a walk in Llandaff Fields together. My limbs and joints ached and occasionally my head hurt as if I had 'flu, side effects of the Moderna vaccine. Along with tiredness and the foggy head, my routine walk was more an exercise in endurance than a pleasure. I completed my daily step goal indoors.

Sarah from next door came in to witness our signatures on Clare's LPA document. It'll be my turn to draw one up next. Kath is going to help me. We had mackerel fillets with roast potatoes and kale for supper. We had a quiet evening chatting, watching 'The Repair Shop' before surrendering to sleep.

Covid jab day

To my surprise, a good night's sleep, more relaxed, benefiting from getting to bed earlier. I remembered to drink more water at breakfast time, to replace the amount I pee out at night. Though the cloud cover broke up yesterday afternoon to give us a beautiful mackerel sky for a while before sunset, it was overcast again and grey this morning. As my medication regime is now less complex than it was a couple of weeks ago I set about editing my daily medication tick sheet file, made for me by Owain. It was in pdf format. It took a while to remember what I had to do with the version stored in Google Docs, which was uncooperative to say the least. I had to convert the pdf to docx using an online conversion app in Adobe Acrobat, and edit it using Open Office and then upload it to Google Docs ready to print off later. 

After an early lunch, I did a circuit of Llandaff Fields before taking a taxi with Clare to arrive at the Bay Scout Den, Grangetown's vaccination centre, for our covid jabs at two thirty. It didn't seem very busy, mostly people in our age group. Fifteen minutes later we were on our way to a bus stop nearby for a number 7 bus that toured around parts of Grangetown I didn't know, taking half an hour to return to the City Centre. When we got on, Clare took  out her expired bus card, causing the ticket machine to issue an embarrassing loud noise, but the driver issued her a ticket anyway. Meanwhile she retrieved the renewed card, but the driver didn't ask to see it. Drivers are probably used to old people muddling up cards.

At the City Centre bus Hub a number 61 was waiting to leave and we were back home again eating choc ices by four. A couple of teenagers got on. One of them said he'd lost his phone and travel card and didn't have the means to pay, or convince the driver he was genuine. He and his mate started to get belligerent so the driver pressed a panic button which emitted a loud alarm call. The boys got off and made themselves scarce. No benefit of the doubt for them. Did they not appear to be of school age in the driver's eyes? Was the story he was told true or not? Will it teach the lads a lesson about being careful with your bus pass and your phone, maybe keeping them separate, however inconvenient? An hour's walk home won't do the lad any harm and may reinforce the lesson learnt. I'll never know.

After returning home and taking my tea time meds, I did another circuit of Llandaff Fields to complete my current daily step goal of 10,500 around 8km. I may do more but I'm not going to increase the goal to 10km as it has been for several years, until I can do so comfortably. My legs and joints are stiffer and take longer to warm up, so the walk is taking me longer but I'm not in a hurry and must avoid tiring myself out. Fitness will return as long as I keep going at a steady modest pace every day.

After supper I watched a couple of episodes of Rocco Schiavone. He's with his Roman childhood mates in Latin America, searching for one of their number who betrayed Rocco and got the love of his life murdered. His mates are out for revenge on the traitor. They follow a trail which goes from Buenos Aires to Mexico City and then to Costa Rica across two episodes in which Italian and Spanish exchanges of dialogue take place, making this an interesting exercise in comprehension, not over reliant on subtitles as I'm familiar enough with both languages to enjoy following. It turned out to be a moving finale with the discovery that the traitor had a wife and two teenage children none of his Roman mates knew about. The desire to express anger and the hunt for revenge dissipated. They left the traitor alone with an indication that his old friends had found him. There would be no question of punishing his family for his betrayal. Enough suffering had come from his failure to protect his childhood friends, and he was forever separated from them as a result. A sad ending, but in many ways a noble spirited one. Time for bed already.

Hospital checkup

Overcast again this morning. I woke up with my head feeling overcast too.  Chris came by at ten thirty to take Clare for a hairdo. He took me to UHW for a MSDEC appointment for a blood pressure check - OK it seems today. I asked if it was OK to have a covid jab and was reassured it was. I had cancelled mine out of caution, but was able to ring up and re-book for tomorrow when Clare also has an appointment, so we'll go together by taxi.

Whike I was there I was given a prescription for meds I'm running out of. I walked home for exercise. Although I've walked it before, I found it difficult to navigate my way from the hospital precinct through the Gabalfa interchange subways to Western Avenue, my recall was fragmented, but at least I went in the right direction. Chris called to ask if I could do with a lift home as he was returning from his salon with Clare. By this time I was near Tesco Extra and we arranged to meet by the filling station there.

I had the rest of my stewed pork steaks for lunch. They were slow to digest. Disappointing. Then I went to the Pharmacy to get my prescription meds and walked in Llandaff Fields to reach my modest daily step goal. Rachel called while I was walking and we chatted for half an hour. Owain also called from Bristol airport's departure lounge, while he was waiting for his flight to Berlin. My leg muscles are unusually stiff today. I can't think why. 

Solo Dios basta

Overcast again today, and cold. I slept fairly well, nearly seven hours, but still felt tired. I got up to take my pills at nine, had breakfast and then went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. There were half a dozen of us there. It's St Teresa of Avila's day - happy reminiscences for me of the Fiesta and Romeria at La Cala de Mijas on locum duty in Fuengirola a decade ago. Teresa's saying 'Nada te turbe, nada t'espante, quien a Dios tiene nada le falta. Solo Dios basta' comes to mind, and the Taize musical setting, equally charged with beautiful pilgrimage memories. Those words mean a lot to me after when I've experienced this past fortnight. Coffee and chat in the hall afterwards, then home to collect the veg bag and take it to Chapter to exchange for this week's delivery from Coed Organics.

Jorja came to clean the house after lunch. Martin and Chris called in to see us as well. They didn't stop for long as Chris had to go to an eye appointment. I snoozed for an hour after they left us, then walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour. I've re-set my daily step goal at 10,500 and reached it for a second day without pushing myself hard. I feel sure that regular moderate exercise is what I need to benefit my circulation. 

Israel is limiting aid into Gaza to force Hamas to release all the bodies of dead hostages. Identification is far from an easy task. Some were buried under buildings destroyed by fighting. Some are decomposed beyond recognition. DNA tests will be necessary if no proper record of hostage identity was kept. Among the Israeli dead are Palestinian victims. It's going to take time and Netanyahu is impatient to see this through quickly. The cease fire is fragile and there are groups of Hamas armed insurgents at large taking revenge on collaborators. It's such a mess. On top of this it's not yet clear there's a viable plan to achieve a durable staged ending to the war with the disarming of Hamas, and restoration of the civilian rule of law and government. 

After supper I watched more of 'Rocco Schiavone'. a tense story of child abuse leading to murder associated with a paedophile ring on the dark web communicating with each other in code investigators must decipher to track the evil perpetrators. It's all the better dramatically speaking for being understated with passing hints of the disgust and rage detectives are living with on the job. Going to be early tonight to see if I can shake off the tiredness.

Good bye Polo

Another eight hours in bed but only five hours sleep. Another overcast day. I had a shower and washed my hair after breakfast. I think that's the first time since the stroke put me in hospital I've had the energy to shower as well as shave. Peter called from NG Motors to arrange the collection of the Polo with its JKK number plate. So sad to part with it, as it entails such a change of lifestyle for us. It's been happening piece by piece anyway with Clare using taxis when I've been unable to take her to an appointment that can't be reached easily by public transport or walking. 

We've had the Polo for seven years, and paid only £1,600 for it. It'll be driveable until legislation or taxation make it unusable on public roads. Being 19 years old despite low mileage it's worth only its scrap value now, £50. At least I don't have to pay to get rid of it. We'll save £600+ a year on tax and insurance, between £500 and 1,000 on MOT, servicing and spares, £700 on fuel based on current usage, roughly £2,000 a year. It's been really cheap motoring with such a reliable car.

It'll be interesting to see how much we spend between us on taxis. I can't see myself returning to driving no matter how well my vision recovers. Even if I obtain a medical certificate that qualifies me to be a license holder after recovery, I don't see the need to drive if an affordable change of lifestyle is possible.

Peter arrived at lunchtime. I signed the Poko over to him and took a photos of the farewell moment when it was driven away. Then I cancelled the insurance policy. Nearly half of the insurance premium refunded will be refunded. I went to the DVLA website to report the sale of the car, but was required to submit to a lengthy procedure to set up a new secure account login to government sites. It took ages, and involved a face recognition scan to compare with a scan of my driving license. It was straightforward, thorough, step by step, but I was tired and already stressed out because my mobile phone reception is flaky, with the line dropping, or user i/d not displaying, phone ringing with no means to answer the call being displayed. This is a real problem when some of those calls may come from MSDEC medics or the GP surgery. I don't know what I can do about it. I don't know if it's my equipment or an EE network outage. Owain says this new secure login procedure is a precursor to a bigger digital i/d and card regime being implemented.

I didn't know what to do about the car tax and DVLA so I called Peter at NG Motors and then found his email and sent him a message. I had a helpful reassuring reply within the hour to say that his completion of ownership transfer on-line would complete the process and I'll get the car tax refunded.

No longer a car owner or user after fifty eight years is a unique experience. A whole set of responsibilities and material worries set aside, but wondering about how I'll adjust to a car free lifestyle. We won't be hiring or leasing at our age, having a driver's license is useful as a form of photo i/d, but visual impairment deters me from driving again, even if I did get through the new mandatory eye test. Clare's glaucoma puts a stop to her driving again.

Following the stroke, it's another significant milestone day in the journey through old age to life's end.

Gaza cease-fire becomes a reality

I didn't sleep well, due to half a dozen interruptions to empty my bladder, but woke up just before nine. Ten hours in bed, six hours sleep. At least my thinking not so foggy. It's still overcast today. I wish it was brighter. One of the consequences of the stroke is that in low light I can't distinguish dark objects in a shady place as well as I normally can, but I think my distance vision is a little sharper today. 

The cease fire in Gaza is holding. Hostages taken by Hamas are being exchanged for Palestinian prisoners and detainees held since Gaza was invaded. There's great joy and celebration in Israel today as families are reunited after two years of captivity.

Trump is convening a conference in Egypt of international political leaders and stakeholders to discuss the future of Palestine and the rebuilding of Gaza. The way ahead is not yet clear. There are many problems to solve - feeding and rehousing a starving and destitute population of two million, establishing the rule of law and civil government without Hamas, disarming insurgent groups and militias. The involvement of the Palestinian Authority in running Gaza. 

There's a lot of good will and desire to bring the suffering to an end and establish reliable security from which all can benefit, but it's such a complex set of problems to solve with new challenges emerging as time goes on. The Israeli military may well withdraw and be replaced by an international Stabilisation Force to counter the threat of anarchy that could hinder the withdrawal of Israeli forces.  

As I write, I notice my hand-eye co-ordination is better, Not so many typos to correct! Another thing I've noticed in past weeks is the persistence of a small class of typos that may relate to left handedness or the way the eyes glance ahead in the direction of the text, so I'll swap the order of vowels between consonants  when writing a word. 'Paece' instead of 'Peace' for example. Arnor's word processor back in the '90s had a key press combination you could use to correct a word under the cursor. A manual version of auto-correct!

I noticed today's use-by date on a pack of pork steaks in the fridge that Owain bought for me, and resolved to stew them slowly with apple juice in the pressure cooker. This meant a trip to Tesco's for juice, and a few other food items. It's getting easier to navigate the noise and the rush of the streets without distraction or confusion. My head is clearer but not perfectly clear. I don't push myself, but need to recover after any spell of activity, physical or mental. 

Clare cooked a stir fry with smoked mackerel and rice for lunch when I got home. I pressure cooked the pork for future consumption, a protein alternative to chicken for a change.

I called the MSDEC virtual ward team before going to the shops, to query repeat prescriptions, as a couple of meds I'm being treated with are running out in a few days time. I had a reassuring call back from a doctor after lunch and have arranged to pick up repeat prescriptions when I go to UHW on Thursday. It's a relief to have got this sorted out.

After a rest, I walked in Llandaff Fields. I'm walking further each day without pushing myself. My legs are stiff, they take time to warm up. When I was in hospital I went down to just a few hundred steps a day, but have added more each day during the past few weeks of recovery. Ten thousand steps for the first time today since the stroke on 14th September. I'm thanking God for the gift of walking in the fresh autumn air!

Clare went out to a community choir practice in Conway Road Methodist Church after supper. I wrote a few update messages and then watched a couple of episodes of 'Rocco Schiavone' before bed.

Eucharistic homecoming

I think I must have slept rather well. My phone notification to take my first round of pills surprised me into wakefulness at nine. I resolved last night to walk to church this morning. I know I can do the distance, especially if I'm refreshed by sleep and breakfast. Clare, Kath and I walked together to St Catherine's for the Harvest Festival Family Eucharist. The sky, autumnal overcast again, noisy leaf blowers at work clearing leaves in Severn Grove. Thankfully I'm a little more resilient to noise and flurries of movement now than a few days ago, but conscious of constraints in my field of vision when I'm not in bright light and I'm slower to recognise objects and people as a result. 

I received a loving welcome from several congregation members. It was so fulfilling just being there in our usual pew near the altar, with children in front and around us, engaging with Fr Sion as he started some yeast to show the children how it works, as part of his address. Participating in the routine normality of Sunday Mass in a familiar reconnected me to the life of the Spirit at the beating heart of the church in a way that's healing, as it is reassuring. An oasis after a sojourn in a 'dry weary land where no water is ..' It's the same experience of connectedness as I had when receiving the Sacraments from clergy colleagues in A&E

The last time I sat there a month ago, the clot on my brain's occipital lobe was making its impact felt. Today I could see the altar and the eucharistic action clearly, and stand with Clare and Kath to receive Communion without stumbling and clinging to furniture. I was apprehensive about my emotional reaction on top of the stimulus of being in a lively group of people but wasn't overwhelmed, rather I felt uplifted, overjoyed, at home again in God's house, among friends.

Last night Clare prepared the foraged crab apples, cooked them and hung up the boiled mass in a bag to strain out the juice. Alongside making lunch, Clare added the soft brown sugar to the juice which I bought when out for a walk yesterday evening, ready for the transformation of the mixture into crab apple jelly. It's not a huge amount, two small jars, but it brings home a special taste of autumn fruit, subtly spicy and aromatic.

When we'd eaten Kath helped me to open savings accounts with on-line banking, to decant some of my unspent pension into. Santander's current account interest rate has dropped recently, so there's an incentive to take a fruitful initiative. Then she returned to Kenilworth. She has work tomorrow. I walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour before sunset. Owain called to check me out when I was walking. After supper, a new episode of 'Ice Cold Murders' with Inspector Rocco Schiavone in the Val d'Aosta. He investigates a rich young addict's death during Mardi Gras spent in a remote alpine winter chalet with a few friends and relatives. Much of the episode consists of Rocco questioning three other young people staying at the chalet about what led to the disappearance of their friend, exposing the weakness of their story ending with a crime and cover-up being admitted. Meanwhile the CSI and forensic team work in the background to inform him. It's a splendid example of interview cum interrogation, full of subtle tension. It reminded me of dialogues in the 'Line of Duty' interrogation scenes. And now bed.

Getting some stuff done

A light supper of fruit and bread last night resulted in less disturbed sleep. I woke up feeling  refreshed with a clearer head. A pity it's such an overcast dull day outside. Clare went out early and bought fresh crispy croissants for breakfast - a change from Saturday pancakes, too much effort today. Anto sent photos from Ciudad Rodrigo on the Spanish-Portuguese border, where we visited in August. No doubt he will be able to tell us more about the history of the place when we next meet. It was too much to take in when we were having a guided tour of the village.

Kath is being marvellously helpful ordering me a new lazer printer cartridge on-line for me. My hand- eye coordination is improving, but I'm still slow at taking in visually complex sets of information on shopping websites. 

Kath and Owain have been preparing the way to register Lasting Power of Attorney on behalf of Clare and I, to help us manage our affairs as we become less capable of doing so for ourselves, and need trusted help to keep our lives in order. It's a clear and straightforward process, but it seems more complex through the brain fog. It must be done however to prevent the slide into chaos that follows from a stroke.

Garlic prawns with brown rice, broccoli and carrots for lunch, then a siesta. At four, Clare Kath and I went for a walk around Llandaff Fields. The park's two crab apple trees are full of red fruit that look like giant cherries. We stopped and picked half a kilo to make jelly with. Then we inspected the newly opened Padel Court and its cafe, branded the 'Square and Fair Lounge'. A bit odd really. I don't see what makes it into a lounge. I don't see any sumptuous sink-into arm chairs to relax into. 

Kath met her friend Emma as we were making our way out of the park. We left them to chat over a coffee and returned home as it was medication time. A light supper and a few quiet hours doing very little before heading for bed, apart from an episode of 'Inspector Gerri' on Channel Four Walter Presents. 

I want to go to church tomorrow, even if it is more stimulating and stressful than being a spectator on-line. I so miss that sense of being part of the real live every day worshipping community, the Body of Christ.

Remedy for recovery

The fish pie I had for supper last night went down well and digested properly but left me getting up and down all night to empty my bladder, irritated by potato starch and a full bowel not ready to discharge. The old adage about eating like a pauper before sleep rings true for me. I still get caught out however. The cocktail of medications no doubt, also plays its part. I found it tiring just eating breakfast when I got up eventually. My stomach was labouring a little while I ate which quickened my pulse, but calmed down once a few spoonfuls of kefir yoghourt came into effect. Interesting! I recovered by dozing in my armchair through the morning. Meanwhile, Clare went out for her physio session. 

Good people around me tell me to relax and take it easy, perhaps my desire (or is it anxiety?) to sustain order in the present chaos of my life is obvious to them. It's more a matter of coping with overwhelming stimuli  keeping an orderly head and not giving in to panic when things seem to be running out of control. Restoring inner order is an essential condition for relaxation as far as I'm concerned. Not letting myself get over tired or stressed out is part of this. I can't / won't push myself through this. Calmness and sleep when I need them are part of the remedy for recovery.

The Israeli government has approved the first stage of the Trump team brokered deal and a cease-fire has come into effect. Gazans driven south by the IDF offensive are returning to where they belong. Exchange of hostages and prisoners is now being prepared and emergency aid is being poured into the Gaza Strip. It's such a relief to know that compassionate action is beginning to flow. Trump's style of confrontatory populist politics has reminded me of a loud mouthed street bully in the past. Together with his diplomatic team, this time it has led to pressure on the Netanyahu government to close a cease fire deal with Hamas, with Arab and Western leaders around them. Will it be a genuine breakthrough this time? I hope and pray it will be.

We had fish, sweet potato and kale for lunch. A huge beetroot defeated me. Maybe later on with mayo. I shaved three weeks  beard growth off my cheeks after lunch, and look more like I prefer to be seen now. Good for the morale! 

After a siesta, I walked for an hour around Llandaff Fields. The sun shone, trees are turning colour. It's cool, without wind, a lovely autumn evening. I returned in time to take my tea-time pills, a diminishing number now the post op medication phase has been completed without incident. My head isn't as foggy now, my vision is OK-ish but not as sharp as I'm used to in the left eye. The right has the cataract to contend with. Earlier I called Llandough eye surgery hub to check that the message about my op being cancelled had been received and acted on when it was sent by from the emergency stroke unit. The eye surgery appointment letter was still in my folder. I wanted to be sure so someone else could benefit in ten days time.

Kath arrived for the weekend in time for supper. So good to have her with us again. Anto is touring sites of historical interest with his sister Viv in Zafra, Badajoz Province in Spain at the moment. A quiet evening together for the three of us here in Cardiff. Thankfully my head is clearer, slowly becoming more resilient to loud noises. We spent the evening chatting quietly. Clare and Kath shared a glass of Californian Malbec but I chose to abstain. I don't want to make my head feel any cloudier.

Giving up the car after 55 years

A cool and cloudy day. Woke up just after eight. Weeping from my repaired nostril has dried up. This is reassuring, in the light of the clot busting meds I'm taking! I just have to be very careful not to avoid any anxiety or effort that will cause blood to go to my head. Not easy for me. I've been driven with a tendency to be over active for many years, taking advantage of good health and fitness. All is now up for review.

Listened to an excellent 'Thought for the Day' about how our legal system works, and how it reflects the diverse cultural origins of our language, then got up for pills and breakfast. While I was eating I had a briefing call from Callum at Occupational Therapy where we talked about what I can and can't do, and need help with, to facilitate rehab. My recourse to past learning from Chi Gung and Alexander technique when I was admitted to the stroke emergency ward enabled me to walk steadily and safely, aware of co-ordination blips, I understand how important Tai Chi is going to be to regaining full confident movement, so I'll soon be engaged in a class with a group of other stroke patients. I also had a clarifying email from King's Road surgery, setting my mind at rest about Blood Pressure checks.

Trump and his team have exerted enough pressure on Israel and Hamas to agree a cease fire and follow up plan which will secure the release of hostages and hostage bodies and the release of 250 Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails and 1,700 detainees from the Gaza offensive. Further negotiations are pending in the disarmament of Hamas and withdrawal of Israeli troops from Gaza. A surge of humanitarian aid is now expected into Gaza where a state of famine has existed for several weeks. Will this cruel nightmare now come to an end at last? I hope and pray it will.

We've discussed getting rid of the car for the past year. Even slight visual impairment is enough for me to give up driving after 55 years as a motorist. I no longer enjoy driving, it's too demanding and stressful, and Clare's glaucoma prevents her from seeing well enough to drive. We must let go of our dear VW Polo which has my initials in its registration plate. Given that it's nineteen years old, and would no longer be acceptable as a legal road vehicle a few years from now, despite being sound and reliable, its scrap value is only £50. I phoned NG motors who sold it to us and they have agreed to take it away and hopefully find a new owner for it, perhaps a learner driver, who will be able to get a few more years of use from it before it is no longer legally usable on the road. One of the team will collect it and do the admin in a few days from now.

I needed a snooze after lunch to clear my head. Then I got dressed and went out with Clare for a walk. We got separated when I stopped to send a message from Owain and chat to Nick from church who stopped to ask me how I was recovering, and I couldn't spot her anywhere. She was OK and walked home separately from me, but I found it distressing to lose track of her. I went to the top of Llandaff Fields and back. Joints are a bit stiff but warmed up as long as I kept a steady pace and didn't push myself. It wasn't exhausting. The fresh air and exercise did me good. I feel walking benefits my blood circulation. It reduces tingling in my left hand, which is I think a tell-tale stroke symptom in my case.

Owain called MSDEC and got some information about what it means to be a 'virtual ward' patient. I have an appointment there in a week's time at UHW to measure blood pressure and a meeting with the cardio consultant for a briefing and a heart monitor fitting. Heaven knows what this is all about and where it leads. Owain left us at tea time. We won't see him for a while as he's off for a week's respite in Berlin's techno community. It's been marvellous having him here for a few days. Clare and I are back on our own this evening. We're both holding our own, not getting worse, maybe improving a little, conscious there are friends and family close at hand whom we can phone if we need to.

Appointment booking snafu

Woke up early to call the surgery at eight to fix a GP appointment. The phone  queuing system led to a dead end, not shutting down but hanging unresponsive. After five minutes, I redialled and after another ten minutes wait, I got through to the surgery, but by then there were no more 'book on the day' appointments left. At this,  I broke down in tears of frustration, and at the end of the call was left not knowing what, if anything, is going to happen next. 

After breakfast and meds, I sat in an armchair and read the office and liturgy of the Word for Mass, then fell asleep for an hour or so, exhausted emotionally. Then I woke up chilled despite a warm blanket cover. I need to wear a hat indoors to avoid cooling down when I'm inactive for any length of time. Intermittent sleep isn't enough so I'm waking up tired and dozing off.

Owain found the GP receptionists' email for me and I wrote to them after lunch seeking clarification about what is meant to happen next and when. Some of my medications are expiring now, having done their job. I am still on the clot busting medication which precipitated the nose bleed crisis, but the one which has helped clotting of the nasal lesions has now expired, which leaves me feeling uncertain. I have to rest a lot, but stress makes my blood pressure rise and affects nostril blood vessels. I can't write for too long either. I feel like I am on a tightrope. I was given a date for a blood pressure check in two weeks time over the phone, but then received an email reply saying a check must be done within the next week. What on earth is going on?

After lunch, we had a visit from Jorja, our new home help who's going to clean for us, and Michael of 'Care and Repair', a charitable community organisation which helps infirm and disabled people adapt their home to support their needs, and helps them engage with necessary utilities and service providers. We'll get new grab handles installed and a raised bank of power sockets for easier access in the lounge.

Owain and I walked to the Co-op at tea time for food shopping and cash withdrawal. The exercise did me good, and I coped with the noise and added stimulus of the street. Walking carefully, slow and tall is vital to avoid stumbling. A sense of being exposed and vulnerable with a foggy head and impaired vision keeps me alert and out of trouble. Owain cooked us a delicious spinach with pasta dish for supper and after we'd eaten he went out for a drink with friends at Chapter. After a few message exchanges and the last round of medications of the day, bed time, feeling I'm a bit more stable than I was yesterday. Hopefully I'll get clarity about BP checkup in tomorrow's email.

MSDEC check up visit

Slept in deep dives between interruptions to empty bladder. An overcast and cool day. Morning meds taken on time, then breakfast.  The effort was tiring, and I slept in my armchair after eating. Clare went off to her Tuesday study group leaving me on my own in the house, too sleepy to get around to feeling anxious. Woke up at noon. 

Gaza cease fire talks continue pressurised by Trump and his team to respond to an outline plan proposed by them. 67,000 deaths in Gaza on this second anniversary of the evil outrageous Hamas attack which started this war. 

This day also marks the announcement of an environmental landmark with the generation of energy from wind and solar sources overtaking the use of coal globally. It's thanks to production of solar panels at such a scale that the prices have dropped and become affordable, especially in third world countries, revolutionising their social and economic development. An added bonus is greening of scorched land shaded by horizontally mounted panels enabling it to be productive. A truly virtuous cycle. 

I decided to try wearing my denture again. It' a tight fit, but not painfully tight as it was a few days ago when my palate was a little swollen. It makes it easier to speak clearly and smile. My lip doesn't snag on a front tooth when wearing it. I hope I can keep this up without it adding stressful discomfort.

Clare made lunch when she returned home. I was too sleep fogged to contribute. Then I changed into outdoor clothes, ready for a trip to  UHW appointment at 3.00pm. It took me ages to get ready as I had to assemble a 'go bag' of essentials plus medications, just in case I am detained unexpectedly. Ann came at 2.15, drove me there and escorted me up to the MSDEC ward. The noise and movement sensations were overwhelming and distracting. Not least because of continued foggy perception. I would have found it distressing to get there on my own. She is such a steady calming presence. What a lovely gift! 

My previous outing MSDEC for checks was aborted by the nose bleed crisis. The nurse who took blood, and did BP and ECG readings teased about me being 'trouble' in a kindly way. We laughed together. Then I moved on to a radiologist for an echo cardiogram, with a young Sudanese medic called Hibba, which means special gift, she told me. Like Grace in English. A consultant popped in and said he would be in touch by phone and letter about the treatment plan, which will presumably involve the heart as well as the nose and stroke aftermath.

 

I was there for over an hour then released to wait in Concourse reception for Ann to pick up and take me home. Mission accomplished. So far so good. I just missed a call from King's Road surgery unable to reach my phone as I didn't take it to the toilet with me. I called back and was asked to book a call tomorrow with Dr Mullaney about medications. I also have to book a blood pressure monitoring session in the surgery. Another of those agonisingly boring 8.00am waits in the phone on-hold queue for a book on the day appointment when you're half asleep. 

Owain arrived at supper time to spend a few work-from-home days with us. So good to have him around again. After we'd eaten, both of us sat side by side in arm chairs writing on our Chromebooks while Clare immersed herself in a novel on her Kindle. Despite brain fog and afternoon busyness, I feel I'm starting on the road to recovery and am not yet overtired. Just hope I can cope with the next avalanche of medical info and dates to come. Having to walk in hospital, though not much, did me good. Hopefully I'll sleep tonight

On Virtual Ward and in range of GP surgery again

I slept quite well apart from needing to empty bowels and bladder in the early hours. No added impact this time, speedy heart rate settled down as sleep returned. Got up and took meds at nine before breakfast. 

Checked in with MSDEC at UHW. Booked in there for a cardio scan and bloods tomorrow afternoon. Ivana, one of our GP's medication nurses called to brief me about expiring and new medication dosages. I have arranged to visit surgery for blood pressure checks. I found from previous experience this is stressful and worrying, which puts up the pressure even higher. The nurse was kindly sympathetic. Good to have some sense of order after the nose surgery. The nostril wounds seem to be behaving now, a little leaky but nothing to worry about. 

Minced lamb stew again for lunch with mashed potatoes and chard. Comfort food. Reassuring. Routine. 

After a siesta, Marc came around to check us out, then so did Ann. It was very timely as She was able to help us out with lifts to and from UHW tomorrow. And she's doing some food shopping for u, bless her. 

After they both left, Clare and I went out for a walk to Thompson's Park. I found the noise and movement of traffic hard to deal with getting there, but the quietness of the park was soothing. A large tree branch has blown down and smashed through the iron railings. It's already been stripped to the bare trunk, pending a decision, I guess, about what to do with it next. It's quite a while since I had the impulse to take a photo.

I'm walking slowly and tentatively to avoid stumbles. I don't get short of breath, but feel the need to breathe a bit deeper as the effort of walking is slightly tiring. I sense my weakness and need to pay attention to movement and balance to retain control. No room for distraction here! 

I took a selfie of us on a park bench. 

There's congealed blood in my moustache but l'm still leaking and don't want to deal with it properly until it stops. I feel self conscious without my dentures, as I did before a camera at ten years old, my weak lips covering broken front teeth. 

Back home then for five o'clock pills, and catch-up, ordering the recollections of the day, realising how much better recovering out of hospital, close to nature and the everyday rhythm of life. After supper we sat quietly together in the lounge, had a cheery call from Rachel, took all the necessary pills at ten and went to bed.

Home in peace

A long night's undisturbed sleep, waking up feeling very grateful to be home and alive on the Lord's Day. Sunday Worship on Radio 4 celebrated St Francis and his eco-Canticle of the Sun. Sunshine and medication routine on getting up, then a normal muesli and fruit breakfast with added peace and quiet in Clare's company. What a luxury! 

I started early after breakfast looking for the live link to Llandaff Cathedral Sung Mass, via You Tube. The Cathedral Channel is a mess of confusing options, many of them irrelevant or misleading. We had a visit from Sheila on her way to church. She's tech savvy enough to find the Llandaff live stream, but she failed too. So it's not just me. 

Yet again, I ended up calling the Cardiff Metropolitan Cathedral website eleven o'clock Sung Mass live stream in a couple of clicks and followed the service from the opening hymn to the distribution of Communion, The 4th century Roman Canon was used in a very acceptable revised translation, and the homily was gently challenging. During the Communion silence, a call from Kath came in.  It was good to hear from her about Rhiannon's first homecoming from University and share the joy of the moment.

We had pasta for lunch with a portion of Marc's delicious lamb sugo. Then I had a visit from Ruth, one of the St Catherine's members, bearing gifts and cards. A bottle of Merlot for me, chocolates from Clare. Not ready for vino yet, but it's nice to have it to look forward to post post-op medication.

It's a bit difficult to shave at the moment so I'm having to let my semi goatee beard grow out into a full set of white whiskers which I hate, having trimmed the existing growth into shape. When it came to hoovering up the hairs the broken lid of the device detachable vacuum chamber swung open and deposited its hairy load elsewhere. The gaffer tape holding it together had dried out, and needed replacement pronto. In each possible direction a little chaos swirls, and requires patience to restore order.

Siôn visited and celebrated a short Communion service at four and gave me a copy of the readings and his homily. His life is pretty busy at the moment. His daughter Mali, and Bishop Mary were running a local half marathon today. Mali's sponsored run is for the Air Ambulance service which took a doctor to her mother when her leg was crushed in a street accident. A life saving call out.

A few messages written to friends, pills taken, settling down for the evening now, as sunset draws near. 

Nose repair op

Emergency surgery to repair nose damage meant waiting prepped fasting in what turned out to be a 24 hour queue. A very busy hospital. Went to theatre around eight thirty this morning and emerged again at lunchtime, watched over by a cheerful charming nurse.

I could feel the ease of pressure in my left nostril. The surgeon came by on return to ward and explained he was successful in cauterising offending lesions and that the remaining nose packing would melt away slowly as healing proceeded. Runny nose time! It will then be possible to resume blood thinners plus a congealing agent to minimise blood leaks while the lesions stabilise. Also doses of post op antibiotics, to prevent infection.

I had a lovely visit from Owain and Marc, which did me good.

Vital signs stable now under medication with BP very high still, but no longer under noisy stress of busy A&E, as I was released at teatime to return home. Ann came and took Owain, Clare and I  home. Even waiting for a ride in UHS Concourse I could feel my body tension drop like a balloon deflating. 

Owain did a thorough job of scheduling my meds on big tick sheets. Our Meadow Street home is a paradise of peace and quiet. I will sleep well, anxiety free. Praise God 

  

Despite everything still here thank God!

Failed to publish a diary of the worldwind of events this last few days of stabilising, shifting around from one emergency ward to another. 

It has not been easy to take notes and the timeline of upheaval. But I have got this far thank God.

Speech to text is too inaccurate, made worse by AI. Detail editing and correcting is impossible with brain fog.. Timeline is in message threads. I propose to reconstruct narrative once fog clears and am less distracted by events with me in them.

Stable vital signs now and a bit more functional. Now waiting for emergency surgery after botched attempt to remove nose packing. Traumatic in its own right. Happier waiting as the pressure on staff is immense. I hope I survive. And remember the tale to tell. So many lessons to learn. 

Pray for Christ's protection from intruding pessimistic thoughts. Diabolic subtle initiatives contaminating sense of judgement.

Dark Angel masquerading as Arcangel on the latter's Feast

Well and in enough control to blog this before going to sleep. Delayed surgery under anaesthetic to stem bleeding on for tomorrow morning.

Owain's broccoli pasta for supper as the all day nil by mouth ban caused me to miss the microwaved vegan  supper tray . He and Clare cut my nails and helped sort my clothes and remove the dirty ones. A second room shift but one with toilet nearby. I can settle now. It will help vital signs stabilise. 

A difficult few days in the valley of the Shadow, but still held by God's mercy and care undergirding the hard pressed staff.

To God be glory forever!