A good night's sleep, but I woke up with muscle pain in the middle of my back above the pelvis, stiff neck and shoulders. I must have slept for some time in an awkward position. I had to move slowly, carefully and in a balanced way to avoid putting my vertebrae and pelvis out of alignment. I had a phone call while I was in the shower about an appointment at St David's hospital, following up on a GP referral. Clare brought the phone to me, but the line dropped as the phone was too far from the base station. I called the hospital and was given a date for triage at an incontinence clinic. I wasn't sure why and enquired of the appointments secretary what this was all about.
It's been six weeks since the boil on my buttock burst and I asked to be referred for wound dressing to the district nurse team, aware of the daily demand for care this would place on Clare. No pasa nada. Thanks to Clare the wound has healed nicely. Given that the initial infection broke out in scar tissue as a result of a violent diarrhea side effect from clot busting medication, I thought it might be worth asking for a scan of the affected muscle tissue to check how stable it now is.
Step one is a consultation with Dr Morse, whom I saw back in March as part of the general health check I received six months after the stroke. At that time the medication was having a bad effect on me. I asked how long I'd have to continue taking it, and was told it's 'a life sentence'. Well, I've been given a reprieve. My digestive tract works as God intends it to. No incontinence to deal with, but I shall press for a scan to find out if there's any hidden risk remaining.
Sorting out the appointment lost me the time needed to get to St Catherine's for the Eucharist. I went to the church hall half an hour later to say hello to people and buy a bag of church garden tomatoes. I called at the pharmacy for a prescription renewal while I was in the vicinity and was told it would be ready in a week's time. Just as well I have two week's medication left.
When I got back home I lay on my back with a book under my head and worked on relaxing muscles and warming them up gently while Clare cooked pasta for lunch. I needed to sleep for half an hour afterwards then I went into town to get the the book I ordered from Waterstones' for Clare birthday - a new translation of the Epic of Gilgamesh by Poet Laureate Andrew Motion. After this I felt ready for a brisk walk up and down Llandaff Fields as the muscle pain was easing. After supper, I spent the evening writing.
Russia has stepped up its bombardment of Ukrainian energy infrastructure and residential areas of Kyiv. Trump's 'energy ceasefire' is a figment of his imagination. He is coercing Ukraine into complying with his wishes, influencing Elon Musk, to throttle Musk's Starlink satellite network, making it much harder to detect incoming missile strikes and defend against them. Political commentators ask if Trump has become a Russian ally. He seems willing to appease rather than confront Putin. For years Trump has cultivated business relationships in Russia. Who knows what compromising information Russia has on him?
The head of MI5 warns against increasing threats from Russian cyber attacks and the dangers of AI being used to develop new threats by 'hostile actors', as individuals, organisations or nation states are referred to in security jargon. Sanctioned Russian oil tankers and naval vessels sail through seas close to Britain and our air space is probed by Russian drones and military aircraft, risking an incident but just avoiding one. We hear of criminals hired to commit crimes on behalf of anti-semitic extremists, and on behalf of Iran or Russia. It's disturbing to think that war could break out in Western Europe accidentally and Britain would not be exempt from the consequences.
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