Medical meetings

Yesterday morning, I walked to the GP surgery for a blood test, then to Riverside Health Surgery for a dressing change. The nurse recognised my name as the former Vicar of St John's City Parish Church, and quickly I realised I knew her mother, from midweek Communions at St John's Canton, and her daughter who was a leading young member of St John Ambulance when I was there. A remarkably brave and resilient teenager who caught meningitis, had both legs amputated and needed a kidney transplant to save her life, she's now married with a child and living a full and active life out in New Zealand. It was one of those delightful unexpected encounters enlivening my otherwise limited life at the moment.

In the afternoon, I had an acupuncture appointment, my first in more than three years. Unfortunately my previous acupuncturist stopped work, and it's only lately that I have felt the need to find another. Clare found the name of Peter Butcher, practitioner at the Natural Health Clinic in Cathedral Road. I wrote to him yesterday evening, outlined my circumstances and explained that I understood how I might benefit from a few treatments to counteract the impact of successive painful shocks to the system from this ailment, and was pleased to receive a response this morning.

I had an hour and a half session with Peter, some good conversation and a treatment which certainly put the spring back in my step and cleared my head of the sensation of being mildly stunned, which seems to come and go with pain and shock. A really good ChiGung workout achieves the same for me, but what I can do is a bit limited at the moment, and I was confident a treatment would boost my Chi energy levels, and it helps ward off infection. I don't know how this works, only that it does work and that's what counts. A couple more sessions are planned before the operation takes place.

All in all, this meant that I had a pretty good day, two days in a row, with little pain or discomfort. Gratefully received.

This morning, however, despite a good night's sleep, I had a setback, with some acute wound pain. It didn't escalate into another attach of inflamed vagus nerve, which makes a change. While I was dealing with this I had a phone call from UHW surgical pre-op unit to book an appointment for an information session - this is about me giving them information on my medical history and present state of health, to assess my readiness for the operation. Apparently every medical department you visit for treatment takes a full medical history and none of this record is shared with other units. I suppose they have their reasons for this, but to me it seems antiquated and unnecessary. As there was an afternoon slot available we agreed to take it although I was still in pain and finding it hard to sit.

Clare drove me to the Heath Hospital, where I was interrogated for over and hour, and had another blood test, plus an ECG. Information is needed for the anaesthetist's risk assessment before the operation can take place. It seems I may also be required to have an ultrasound scan of my heart, as it's two years since I last had one. I wait to hear when.

By the time this process was concluded, the pain had subsided and I was able to sit down again with much less discomfort. The rest of the day was much the same as the two previous ones.

In the tracks of the Johannesritter

After two intensive days of sightseeing we both felt the need to do something more relaxed. First we went back into Herford for minor shopping and a look at the local Roman Catholic Church of St John the Baptist, built in 1715 on a site owned by the old Knights Hospitallers Order of St John of Jerusalem, the Johannesritter, with which St John Cymru-Wales has links. The presbytery is apparently the oldest stone building in Herford.

On an adjacent exterior wall there was a plaque commemorating the stay in Herford of several communities of people displaced by war from further East in Europe, erected by them thirty years later in appreciation of hospitality received. Connie remarked that it was uncommon when it came to the treatment of ausländer. On reflection, it occurred to me that her Catholic schooling may not have extended to learning about the practical values espoused by Johannesritter spiritual traditon. The same would be true here in Britain.

On our way back for lunch, we called into a very well stocked local Bio supermarket located in a mid nineteenth century farm building, selling every imaginable kind of organic product, including beers. We had a coffee, and then while Clare and Connie treated themselves to a half hour's organic retail therapy, I sat outside and savoured an organic Pils in the shade and watched the Hausfrauen come and go with their shopping baskets.

Connie spent the afternoon baking, and her mother came around for tea and waffles topped with raspberries in yoghourt enhanced by whipped cream. Delicious. It didn't seem long before we were eating supper, blessed by the fruits of the shopping expedition earlier, then drinking and talking until after dark. Time flies when you're in good company.