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.
No comments:
Post a Comment