Ending a conflict is harder than starting one

A bright sunny morning. It's slightly warmer today, fifteen degrees. I didn't take a statin last night. Today's Blood Pressure pill certainly made me feel light headed. Despite insufficient sleep, I had a fair amount of energy for a change. I hoovered the carpets after breakfast, then went to Tesco's for a heavy rucksack full of groceries, and cooked a lentil and mushroom dish with rice for lunch. 

I received a letter for an appointment with Dr Tom Hughes in response to my request for a second opinion several weeks ago. It's at the end of April. I could be much better or dead by then!

I exchanged messages with my nephew Julian, now living in the south of Ireland, after an avionics career living in Dubai. His son's family still lives there. He shared a phone video of an Iranian drone intercepted by an anti-aircraft rocket high above Dubai City. The United Arab Emirates are among several states under bombardment, including Saudi Arabia. Iran seems to be inviting heavy retaliation from well armed Arab oil producing countries as well as from America and Israel. The Iranian government is in the throes of choosing a new supreme leader, while the country is under bombardment against a background of muted population unrest. Trump's call for regime change may not turn out in a way that suits his ambitions. If the Iranian government falls and the country descends into factional fighting or anarchy, how will a return to stability be achieved if America is involved, given the strength of anti-American feeling? It's not clear what Trump's hopes for a post-war Iran look like in an ever changing situation.

American presidential decisions made by George Bush to invade Iraq in 2003 and topple Saddam Hussein, justified partly by false intelligence, proved very costly with the loss of nearly four and a half thousand American lives. Iraqi insurgent groups evolved into Al Qaeda. It wasn't just an anti-American resistance militia but a Salafi Islamist militant movement determined to bring an Islamic state into being, with tragic consequences for the world. How to end that conflict wasn't thought through adequately from the outset. Will Trump learn the lessons of history? He's more of a tactical thinker than he is a strategist. 

Sir Keir Starmer is a Prime Minister who does think things through, considers the evidence and may well lead to him changing his mind. Good for him. His reservations about the legality of Trump's war-making, and caution about allowing the deployment of British military bases in this conflict have been openly criticised by Trump. It's encouraging to think we have a leader who stands his ground without feeling compelled to please such an unreliable leader capable of switching from ally to adversary on a whim.

When I set out for an afternoon walk in Llandaff Fields I found I could walk at a brisker pace for three quarters of an hour without flagging or becoming breathless. An agreeable surprise. Clare went to choir practice after an early supper. Rachel called and we chatted for so long that Clare returned and continued the conversation for even longer. Then another effort to get to bed early to compensate for last night's sleep loss. It's a battle I lose more often than not.

Uncertainty after an assassination

Fine weather doesn't last long. It's a return to low cloud with the prospect of drizzle again today. Last night the death of Iran's supreme leader Khamenei, along with several other key regime figures in an air strike  was reported. In Iran while some crowds are mourning, other crowds are rejoicing. Retaliatory air strikes on Israel and on Arab cities in the Gulf continue relentlessly. Iranian military targets are being bombarded with the aim of countering the aggression. Trump is calling for regime change now that the supreme leader's cruel dictatorship has ended, but a dictatorship is more than one man. 

Iranian religious and political leaders rely on resistance against common enemies. It's in their interests to maintain a brutal authoritarian status quo. Regime opponents are far from united - patriotic monarchists, secular, democrats, pro and anti-America, Islamist extremists. What kind of reforming regime can succeed in guiding the country post-war towards a consensus about the nation's future? Meanwhile the corrupt elite of the revolutionary guard will do everything it can to maintain control in the face of chaos. If eliminated, who knows what kind of violent internal power struggle will be unleashed? 

Attacks on neighbouring Arab states and their response produces another measure of uncertainty. Iran has closed the Straits of Hormuz to traffic. One tanker has already been attacked. Twenty per cent of the global oil supply passes through the straits. This will have far reaching negative impact on the world economy. Has Trump waged war without thinking through the consequences, both immediate and long term?

I slept fairly well despite the usual bladder disruptions. I was fairly clear headed and sharp when I got up and took my blood pressure tablet. Inevitably it made me light headed, but without the toxic impact or drowsiness that has plagued me for so long. This made it easier for me to get ready for church and get there on time for a Lenten celebration of St David's Day. Some of the little girls in Sunday Club came dressed in traditional Welsh hats. One of the younger teenage girls read a lesson beautifully. We defied liturgical tradition by singing the Gloria in Lent. I don't know what Dewi Sant would make of this. Celtic liturgical practice may have been varied locally in any case.

We sang several traditional roof-raising Welsh hymns. Calon Lan proved to be difficult if you didn't know it by heart, as the text on the bilingual hymn sheet was tiny and laid out in a way that was confusing to read. This was reflected in subdued singing from those who, like me, had never memorised it. In contrast, the English rendition of 'Cwm Rhondda' was loud and lusty. I got back home before Clare after the service and prepared the veggies and Salmon for cooking. 

I didn't feel I needed a snooze after lunch and wrote for a while before walking in Llandaff Fields for an hour and a quarter. Daffodils are blossoming in abundance, and the first Celandines are catching up. I took a few pictures to send to cousin Dianne in memory of my Godmother, Auntie Celandine.

 I felt quite tired towards the end of the walk, maybe because I didn't have a rest earlier. I can put up with the blood pressure medication making me feel light headed and even tired when I don't experience the intoxication that seems to be produced by the statins. 

After an early supper, Clare went to a concert given by the Welsh language band 'Brigyn' at St John's. I didn't fancy an evening of amplified music. Apart from the loudness, it's not my kind of music and my Welsh isn't good enough to follow. Clare returned half an hour later, disappointed because she got the date of the concert wrong. It was yesterday. We then sat side by side listening to different programmes through headphones on laptops. A weird opera in Welsh for Clare, and a second series of 'Casi de Teresa Battaglia', set in Udine for me. It's the first time we did that, I think.

War in the Middle East

I woke up to hear news of air attacks on Iran by Israeli and American forces. From the war of words and Trumpian theatrical gunboat diplomacy to full conflict overnight, Retaliatory air strikes on neighbouring Arab states in the Gulf and on Israel followed soon after, as the Iranian regime threatened would happen. Iran has been weakened by economic crisis and mass protests at home murderously suppressed in recent weeks, but its armed forces are capable of inflicting damage on its neighbours, and on the global economy by closing the Straits of Hormuz, an essential oil trade route. Russia and China will be taking an interest in the way this war is waged, learning from its successes and failures.

Another broken night's sleep, my intestines irritated by the effect of the clot dispersing meds. I didn't take the statin, following advice given by the medic who called on Tuesday, to reduce their frequency by half. My head was fairly clear when I woke up in bright sunshine. After taking my usual blood pressure reducing pill at eight thirty, I began to feel light headed, but this morning, the most striking difference was the absence of the toxic fog sensation in my head. The drug is still in my system, its concentration fading, but any fallout from interacting with other medications is minimal. I'm tired, yes, but not sleepy and my concentration is sharp. What a relief!

I walked for an hour in Thompson's Park after our Saturday pancake breakfast and a half hour top-up snooze. The west facing slopes are carpeted with daffodils. Bushes and other vegetation surrounding the pond have been harshly cut back. There are fewer mallards in occupation at the moment, and no sign of the resident moorhens. They are shy birds that spend more time hiding in the muddy undergrowth foraging for food than they do in open water. They make nests in a reed bed on a raft of twigs and other material including scraps of plastic sheet if they find any. I wonder where the birds are hiding at the moment? 

Baked potatoes and fish for lunch, then another hour's walk, this time in Llandaff Fields with a stop at the Co-op on the way back to buy walnuts. I enjoyed the stimulus of cold fresh air and sunshine, with my head much clearer than usual, and I felt less stressed from the effort of coping with toxins in my head  My legs were tired and stiff, but not in the same way as they are after taking a statin. I didn't push myself too hard, and relaxed when I got home watching this week's episode of 'Astrid - Murder in Paris' until it was time for supper. After we'd eaten, I recorded Morning Prayer audio for the week after next, and started getting ready for bed and taking the day's dreaded statin, wondering about its impact on me tomorrow.

Birdsong audit

We seem to alternate this winter between overcast rainy days and blue sky sunny days with afternoon showers. Today is one of the latter. I had just under six hours sleep, waking at seven, having got to bed just before midnight and losing an hour awake in the night. The impact of the meds was less pronounced and my head was clear once they took effect after breakfast and. No pins and needles sensation in my head today but sleepy enough after lunch to need an hour in bed to recover. The variability in my reaction is unpredictable. It's hard to know what I'm going to be capable of tackling as the day goes on.

The Green Party won a substantial parliamentary by-election victory in the Greater Manchester area yesterday. Andy Burnham, the popular and effective Mayor of Manchester offered himself as a candidate for a traditional Labour seat but was not selected, when it could have been won against right and left wing opponents. Losing this winning opportunity is an embarrassing own-goal for the Labour Party. Perceived as a rival leader to Keir Starmer, the excuse given for Burnham's non selection as a candidate was that he was doing too good a job as Mayor, and a mayoral by-election couldn't be afforded by the party. Methinks Starmer and his camp followers may live to regret this.

I went out to enjoy the sunshine walking in Llandaff Fields and heard the eerie cry of a Green Woodpecker in the coppice opposite Howells School. The Merlin bird app, identified this along with the song of a robin a wren, a blackcap, a blackbird, a redwing, a song thrush, a mistle thrush, a wood pigeon and a magpie. Ten different birds in the same patch of bushes and trees. I listened to the recording later in the day, but sadly forgot to save it. Such biodiversity in our parks, more than in our street's back gardens. These are dominated by crows, magpies, gulls, wood pigeons and starlings roosting in the roof eaves, and sometimes passing sparrows and tits. There's not enough vegetation cover for smaller birds where there's decking or paved patios. 

I went for another circuit of Llandaff fields after my post lunch siesta. It started to drizzle before sunset and more rain is forecast for later tonight. The roar of the Taff over the weir at Blackweir bridge was audible from the Spine Road five hundred metres away. The water level must be high at the moment.

I watched another fine episode of 'Lolita Lobosco' after supper, to take my mind off doing things I don't have energy to tackle at the moment with my 'toxic head' impeding my ability to tackle them. It's not a good place to be. I feel as if I'm not fully in control of my senses. I want to avoid slipping into panic mode and raising my blood pressure even more. Time to take refuge in sleep as best I can.

Head fog

Dull and overcast this morning. I slept until nine and felt sleepy when I woke up, before taking my usual meds. By the time I went shopping to Tesco's mid morning I felt much worse. I chatted with Ashley on my way there and outside the store, but when I went into the store the 'toxic head' sensation was so bad that I had difficulty identifying and obtaining things on my shopping list. My memory map of the store layout was working. I didn't feel faint, physically speaking, nor was I dizzy, just light headed with a sensation akin to pins and needles was so strong it interfered with my ability make decisions, like signal noise on a radio degrading the sound output, brain processes were slow. Disturbingly, the sensation reminded me of the way I felt on the day of the stroke. What on earth is going on?

Clare cooked sausages for my lunch and a veggie burger for herself. Unfortunately I didn't notice her text message asking me to buy veggie sausages until I returned home. I slept for an hour after we'd eaten, and it was raining when I started on my afternoon walk with brolly and added rain trousers. My head began to clear slowly, thanks to exercise. I'm reluctant to go walking in the park if there's rain and wind and have to push myself to go out. If I don't my head takes longer to clear.

We've now secured our Tenby fortnight's holiday booking in May. It's good to have this to look forward to, plus the train trips to take us there and back. Such a delightful journey, especially from Carmarthen down to Towy valley.

After supper my head cleared enough for me to work on another biblical reflection for Morning Prayer on another difficult passage from Hebrews, and then it was time for bed, wondering if tomorrow my head will be any better than today.

Holiday plans

A fair night's sleep. Nine hours in bed, two hours awake. I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to the Parish WhatsApp prayer thread as 'Thought for the Day' was running on the Today programme. I was Clear headed and sharp waking up in sunshine with no threat of rain, but the sky clouded over anyway and so did my head after taking my morning meds. I went to the Eucharist at Saint Catherine's. We were seven this morning. Ann and Paul were there, giving an opportunity to ask if we could hire their place in Tenby for a couple of weeks self catering holiday in May. Our Ann is going to join us 

Clare was out shopping when I got home, so I cooked and ate lunch, with a deadline to arrive at Parkwood Clinic for an acupuncture session with Peter Butcher. Despite the negative impact of the meds on my brain and muscle stiffness requiring an effort to maintain a decent pace, my general energy levels remain high. Even if I get tired, I'm not being debilitated by the toxic effect. When I got back home I slept soundly in my armchair for an hour. Two things to give thanks for. I walked for another half hour at sunset, but thick cloud made it seem as if it was already dusk.

I treated myself to another episode of 'Lolita Lobosco' this evening. An enjoyable mixture of serious crime drama, romantic and domestic comedy with superb acting and laugh out loud dialogue set in Bari, modern  Italian movie story telling at its best.

Medication - a useful conversation

I got to sleep a bit earlier, but woke up earlier as the sky was bright with sunshine breaking through the cloud layer. Clare's study group arrived after breakfast for their meeting, confining me to vegetate in the lounge. Two hours sleep lost, and the meds amplifying morning drowsiness and releasing little energy to drive me out of the house for a walk. It's daunting. Daffodils in bud bought a week ago are now blossoming in a vase opposite where I sit. A welcome element of good cheer.

I had a useful follow up call from the medic dealing with the medication problem outlining several options to be considered. He suggests taking the statin every other day, which seems to be the least complicated option. In effect, this is a half dose. The pills are too small to cut in half. The aim is to see if the impact on me is less toxic. This is to be monitored with a couple of blood tests while fasting to establish the effect on my cholesterol. Sounds like a sensible plan to me. Finally I'll get the blood test I asked for five weeks ago. A morale boost for a change.

I had a surprise email from Dr Richard Johnson re-establishing contact. He's just coming up to seventy and may be about to retire. I'm not sure if he and Sue have moved house. I sent them a Christmas card and news to an address where I assumed they still live, but they may have moved from. They are coming with their caravan to stay in the Pontcanna Fields campsite in early April. He and I have birthdays close together. The last time we got together in the flesh was when they camped in Cardiff nine years ago, so quite a lot of catching up to do when we meet.

I cooked lunch after Clare's study group left, then recorded and edited together Morning Prayer and Reflection for next week. My afternoon walk in Llandaff Fields was cut short by soreness from a tiny anal blood leak due to the blood thinners. After supper, I made a video slideshow to go with the audio and posted it to YouTube. Then I went out again in the dark for a walk around the block to clear my head and complete my daily exercise quota, annoyed with myself for the earlier disruption as well as tired and ready for bed.

Registration sorted

A sunny start to the day, then the sky clouded over and it drizzled for the rest of the day. I slept badly, losing three hour's sleep out of nine in bed. I woke up at one stage wondering if I'd switched off the oven, after slow cooking some chicken yesterday afternoon. I had to get up and go down to check in order to settle my mind. I'm no stranger to anxious wakefulness in the night, prompted by unquiet intestines. I felt better for having a shower and washing my hair after breakfast, but the effect of the meds, slowing down my brain and making me feel light headed made it difficult to function normally. 

A walk in the drizzle to try and clear my head, was unfruitful. Clare called me with a request to buy veg pronto from the 'Fruit Bowl' greengrocer's as she'd started cooking and was short of supplies. We've relied on a weekly bag of organic veggies from Coed Organic for nearly twenty years, but after such bad weather in the past year, the cooperative market garden in St Hilary is currently unable to supply produce for veg bag customers. We rely on supermarkets now, and on Jason at 'The Fruit Bowl', where we get bitter oranges for marmalade. The stock is fresh and very varied. His veg labels are neatly hand written.They declare the provenance of the veg he sells. He opens early but closes at four, so a modicum of forethought and planning is needed before cooking in the evening.

Fatigue hit me hard after eating lunch and I slept in my armchair for nearly an hour. Then I checked the Council's postal vote website, and was pleased to see that the downloadable application form I complained about yesterday has been corrected. I set about finding the required identity details and filling in forms for Clare and myself to email .pdf copies of them to the Council's Electoral Services office. Then I went out for another walk to recover from the mental effort of concentrating and checking details were correct. When I was looking for the right email address to send the forms, I noticed we're both on the electoral register, marked as requiring a postal vote. It also says 'If the information is correct you do not have to do anything'. This is in a letter addressed to 'The Occupiers'. It contains both our names, abbreviated as the NHS does using the first forename in full with the second forename initialised. There may have been no need to fill in the forms at all, but I dislike the ambiguity in the way this invitation to register is presented. Registration is valid for all elections over the next three years. I don't recall seeing this box to tick last time we filled in one of these, so maybe it's just as well. Electoral database managers or AI should flag up any duplication in any case. We'll see.

Clare went to choir practice after supper. I recorded next week's biblical reflection while the house was quiet. I was almost finished when she tapped on the front door, having misplaced her door key. only the last minute needed recording separately and adding to what was already recorded. Then, to relax I watched this week's episode of 'Astrid - Murder in Paris' before going to bed early in an attempt to catch up on lost sleep. I've been wondering if this is somehow linked to the seemingly toxic effect the combination of meds have on my brain.

 

Fond memories of Switzerland

Overcast again but no rain. It's Rhiannon's 22nd birthday today. I sent her the photo video I made of pictures taken over the course of her life so far, with Stevie Wonder singing 'Happy Birthday to you' as the sound track. It was hard work with a fuzzy head going through the family photo archive to select photos and build a timeline, but fun to make.

The clot dispersal drugs provoked diarrhea without warning as I was washing and shaving. What a mess. The usual sleepy light headedness followed from taking the blood pressure meds, but a brisk walk to St Catherine's to get to the Eucharist just on time did clear the toxic fog to a degree. Clare didn't come with me as there's a Welsh Eucharist to attend this afternoon. No children in church as it's the second weekend of half term. There were about forty of us. Mother Sue celebrated and preached, Fr Sion is away this weekend.

After lunch and an armchair siesta, I walked in Llandaff Fields for two hours. I was aware of being mildly breathless. My pulse wasn't racing and I didn't need to stop to recover. If I stopped to take a photo or sit for a moment to view an incoming phone message my breathing settled down quickly and naturally. When I reflected for a few moments, fond memories of cross country skiing at 1,200 metres in the Swiss Jura returned to me, and the healthy breathlessness brought on by aerobic exercise. I remembered ascending Mont Blanc by cable car and mild breathlessness at 3,000 metres waiting for the gondola to arrive. Then I remembered the ten minute ascent to from Le Chable (820+ metres) and Verbier (1,500 metres) and the same sensation on arrival. Llandaff Fields is hardly 50 metres above sea level! I've never had this before when out walking in the park, except after increasing my pace for aerobic exercise, going up the slope up to the main road. I'll mention this to the medication specialist when he calls me on Tuesday.

After supper I prepared the text for Wednesday's Morning Prayer next week and wrote a reflection to go with it. As I can't be sure of how well I'll feel, it's important to make the effort in advance, rather than post a last minute apology if I can't make it. I was certainly ready for bed by the time I was satisfied with what I had written.

Welsh Electoral application form shambles

Another overcast drizzly day. Another day of waking with a clear head, soon clouded by the toxic impact of the meds, slowing my thinking, leaving me feeling poorly. I feel like a prisoner. I wonder if this is how people with mental health conditions feel when drugged by antidepressants? 

After our usual Saturday pancake breakfast I made an effort to concentrate on next Wednesday's Morning Prayer video slideshow for uploading to YouTube. It took me  a couple of hours, until Clare called me for lunch. I'm not doing much in the kitchen apart from clearing the table and washing up at the moment. 

I lost my SD card reader, kept in a small box of digital accessories on a side table in between armchairs in the lounge. I've hunted high and low for it with no result. I dug out an old one from the back of a drawer in my study. It has multiple card slots, but is unreliable with a full size SD card, perhaps that's where the fault lies. Thankfully its micro SD card slot works, and these are what I use nowadays. They run faster and have a much larger capacity than the older cards, now relegated to being a very small portable archive. 

The lost card reader hadn't left the house for sure, but being small and black, it had to be somewhere in the shadows where I find it hard to see. Later in the day, I moved an armchair I had moved before and looked beneath and saw nothing. This time, light fell behind a chair leg and there it was!

Rain kept me indoors until mid afternoon. I walked under the brolly for an hour, braving gusts of wind and drizzle to try and clear my head without success, and went out again to the Coop for bananas after supper. 

In today's mail a notification to confirm we are on the electoral register, and can apply on-line for a postal vote. When I downloaded the application form I discovered that the layout formatting of the English language version and that of the Welsh language are not identical. Separate boxes aren't provided for the applicant's forenames and address in the English version, only in the Welsh. If applicants' forms are scanned and data extracted from them automatically, there is a risk that information will be incorrectly processed or corrupted. For a human reader this is confusing and misleading to say the least. The difference between English and Welsh layout format on the form in effect discriminates against non Welsh speakers. I emailed a report to Electoral Services, and a local city councillor. It'll be interesting to see how long it takes to sort out this little admin embarrassment.

No telly this evening. Too tired to maintain concentration or interest. Even getting to bed early is a time consuming effort.

Digital weeding, mental fatigue

Overcast, cold and damp today. Nine hours in bed, two hours sleep lost. I felt refreshed and clear headed when I got up. The unavoidable soporific light headed impact from taking the meds took longer to affect me however. When the toxic effect did arrive, it stayed for much longer, eight hours despite having plenty of physical energy. I wonder what's different from usual?

After breakfast, I habitually look at my Google news feed scanning for items of interest worth reading. There are ads to ignore, reputable news and opinion sources to check out. In recent months I've noticed an increase in the number of attention grabbing headlines on a range of issues, including science, technology, history and archaeology. The content is a rehash of stuff from other news sites. 

These websites often have odd and lengthy names and links to single issue stories with eye-catching titles based on what Google algorithms decide from your search history you're interested in. Many of them are irrelevant to the home page headline, often the articles are about how celebrities look and behave. 

These are click-bait stories, generating revenue for the site owner, even if you don't continue reading the content once you realise what they are. Several of these attention grabbing sites appear during the week, and I remove them immediately on finding them to hinder sites from loading that are AI generated. An algorithm which spots you've visited one of these sites, will soon start pitching additional links to similar 'interest' stories. These build up and clog your news feed, consuming more time, scanning for articles from credible sources. I make a habit of spotting these dubious website titles and dismiss them as suggestions I'm not interested in. It's like clearing weeds from a pond. Or should I say toxic algae? 

Malware can so easily hide itself in this complex maze of links to sneak on to your computer or phone. Google already makes money by trawling through your search history to build a personal profile for bombarding you with profitable marketing ads. 'Data mining' as it's being called, acquires information of every kind, true or false, honest or deceitful, which AI applications process and come up with 'digital slop' to confuse, waste time and energy, adding to the world's carbon footprint. All this as we reach a tipping point in environmental stability due to global heating.

With my brain working slowly due to the meds, it was an effort to prepare next Wednesday's Morning Prayer text, ready to record and edit, which I eventually did after lunch. Many routine tasks I will do automatically and then forget what I've done. Distracted by other things I lose track, and have to check if I really did them. 

I put tomorrow's twice a day pills in a special box. One at breakfast and one at supper. Checking is easy unless routine meal times are disrupted. I wear my fitbit smart watch on my right wrist but the strap is unpleasant and makes my skin sore if worn too tight or for longer than a day. Perspiration can dry on the strap and irritate the skin if I forget to clean it and sweat a lot. Then I swap the strap to my left wrist to allow the skin to recover, and forget I've done so. I habitually look for the watch on my right wrist, and when I don't see it, I'm surprised and wonder what happened to it before checking my left wrist. My brain  simply doesn't work fast enough to close the gap between noticing and realising what I look at or look for. It's worse when I'm tired and feeling drugged.

It was only drizzling when I set out for a walk at three. Bright light from the sun shining through a gap in the cloud as it neared the horizon illuminated a patch of crocuses in the grass - purple, white and yellow, with a few snowdrops an exquisite sight. My photo didn't do justice to it. Drizzle turned into rain and got heavier driven by violent gusts of wind, making the trees roar unnervingly loud. I got soaked, and had to return home to change trousers shoes and socks. Rain stopped so I went out again as the crescent moon appeared above the horizon, not long after sunset. I walked for another forty minutes until it was completely dark. 

I spent the evening thinking about workarounds for slow memory. It's not as if I completely forget things past or recent like Clare, it just means remembering is a fragmented process. As I've said before, it's like piecing together a jigsaw. That's why I make the effort to write up the day before heading for bed. Tonight, mental fatigue is slowing me down even more. Time to turn in for the night.

Nobody is above the law

Thank heavens, a dry but cold day. Not enough sleep, but I woke up feeling fresh and clear. News of the arrest of ex-prince Andrew on suspicion of 'misconduct in public office' came in at breakfast time. Fallout from his dealings with financier Epstein when he was a UK trade envoy. This follows the recent disgrace of ex-Lord Peter Mandelson following revelations about his dodgy business relations with Epstein. King Charles has made it unequivocally clear that nobody is above the law, not even his own brother.

Trump has launched his self appointed Gaza reconstruction 'Board of Peace' with notable leaders absent from the table, including Britain the EU, France, Germany, Norway and Sweden. Pope Leo was significantly outspoken, stating that reconstruction should be managed by the United Nations, which has been excluded by the Netanyahu government from humanitarian involvement in Palestine. 

After taking the meds, my head clouded over, The usual toxic mist. I had a decent amount of energy to walk for nearly two hours around Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields before lunch. I took a few photos of the glorious array of daffodils in roadside grass verges, but the exercise didn't clear my head. I felt sleepy enough after eating to doze in my arm chair for nearly an hour. 

I went out again to Tesco's to buy plant milk and oils for cooking. I recorded the Caribbean Lord's Prayer and sent it to Lucinda. When she got in touch at Christmas, she fondly remembered learning and singing it, at Communion services in Gingins and in the Confirmation class I held for teenagers nearly thirty years ago. 

Losing things

It was overcast when I woke up. I listened to 'Thought for the Day', then posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp. Last night I dropped a pair of specs causing a lens to pop out. As I don't wear them all the time, taking them on and off during the day loosens one of the screws binding the frame. If a tiny screw pops out altogether it's often lost. On this occasion the screw hadn't detached. All I needed was a fine screwdriver to reassemble the frame and tighten it up generally. I have a box of small ones with an assortment of heads bought for DIY work on computer hardware in the last century. They have lived in the same place on a shelf in my study ever since, noticeable in their blue plastic box. I had no idea where they could be in the house. Eventually I found the blue box inside a compartment of a big heavy tool box. 

How they ended up there I have no idea, but after thinking about it for a while, I remembered using one of the tiny screwdrivers to open a voltage testing device to replace its internal battery. I don't completely forget things, but remembering is slow, piecemeal and not infrequently the timeline is jumbled.

Remembering for me nowadays is like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle. I mislaid the repaired specs at breakfast time and had no recollection of taking them off when I don't need them, and putting them down by the side of the bread bin. When I hunted for them, I didn't recognise what my eyes must have seen when I searched. Clare spotted them fortunately, rescuing me from a long panic stricken house search.

We went to the Ash Wednesday Eucharist at St Catherine's, and had our foreheads daubed with the sign of the cross using the traditional paste of palm cross ash, water and oil, rather too much oil, which dribbled a bit. The Gospel reading warned against conspicuous piety. I guess we came out feeling more embarrassed than penitent. Those with receding hairlines or long hair tied back were spared messy black fingers from attempting to brush strands of hair out of their fields of vision. Me included. I would be a lot happier if we could make a little ritual after the Blessing and Dismissal where members of the congregation wiped each other's brows clean of ash with a few words about forgiveness and reconciliation. That would express the sacred mystery of being 'members of one another' in sharing God's mercy and compassion.

After coffee in the church hall, I called at the pharmacy to collect the clot dispersal meds ordered on Monday, and then went to the Coop for some yoghurt before heading for home. Jorja our house cleaner is poorly today, so Clare and I did necessary housework after taking a siesta. Meanwhile it rained, spoiling the prospect of a decent afternoon walk. Rather than get soaked, I settled for doing less today. To hell with step targets, sometimes, especially when the meds are giving my brain a hard time and slowing me up. It's when rotten weather with blustery wind makes me feel vulnerable even though I'm steady on my feet. The toxic mist in addition to low light mild visual impairment that cause me to question how keen my senses are. Thankfully no accidents so far.

By supper time my light headedness had cleared enough for me to spend the evening writing a Lenten Ember Day reflection on a difficult passage from Galatians for next Wednesday's Morning Prayer, combining it with a brief summary of the content of the second chapter of the Lent Book 'Receiving Jesus'. I wasn't sure it'd all hang together until I completed it and was pleased with the outcome. 

The passing of a prophet for our age

The air temperature dropped in the night. I had to get up and find a hat to wear in bed to stay warm but I didn't lose much sleep fortunately. It was zero degrees when I got up but no frost just a dry day. Although my head was clear, the morning meds had an unusually strong impact on me, lasting into the afternoon. I  don't know why, but it slowed me down and made concentration hard work to turn an album of photos into a video slideshow of Rhiannon's 21 years. It's her 22nd birthday today. I made her a digital birthday card and recorded a sung greeting from Clare and I as well. 

After lunch I had a call from a medic working with Dr Tom Hughes, asking me questions about the nasty effect the statins are having on me. A lengthy interview, challenging me to describe accurately what I have noticed recently and back in 2007 when I first renounced them because of ill effects. The stroke has made my reaction much more sensitive. The real concern is the combined effect of taking the Losartan as well. After a twenty five minute conversation, I was promised another call next Tuesday to report his findings and propose an alternative statin. Progress!

In the mail, a final account statement from TalkTalk. I was mentally drained to deal with it after talking on the phone for so long, so I put it on one side without opening it. I have yet to deal with Owain's draft letter of complaint about this to OFCOM.

In the news headlines today, the death at 84 was announced of the Reverend Jesse Jackson, one America's great civil rights advocates, and successor of Martin Luther King. An outstanding preacher and evangelist for social justice. His inspirational exhortation "Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive!" was the call of a twentieth century prophet. He worked tirelessly on the economic front to open career paths for poor and downtrodden black people. May he rest in peace and rise in glory. 

It's also the anniversary of the martyrdom of Archbishop Janani Luwum today as well, a prophet and a moral and spiritual giant of our age, who in 1977 met a violent end for speaking truth to power under the tyrannical regime in Uganda of Idi Amin

I went out for a walk in Llandaff Fields at three when the after effect of the meds and a lengthy telephone conversation started to wear off. After supper, I found two new crimmies to watch on 'Walter Presents'. A puzzling episode of 'Astrid - Murder in Paris' which I hadn't seen, and a whole new series of 'Indagini de Lolita Lobosco', mixing romantic comedy with arms trafficking and the murder of a secret agent tracking the organised crime gang. All worries set aside for a couple of hours before bed time.

Windy Monday

So good to wake up to sunshine and blue sky, after a night disturbed by worries about making a complaint to OFCOM about TalkTalk's incompetent handling of closing our broadband account. It's hard to focus if the meds are messing with your ability to think. I had a message from Sara to say she'd arrived home after travelling for twenty four hours.

I went to the GP surgery after breakfast with my prescription renewal form, conscious that it can take 48 hours to process the request, I'll have run out of meds before then. I think the staff were aware of the email I sent about the surgery website glitch. I was relieved of the paper renewal forms, and told the prescription would be ready at two this afternoon. It seems a new electronic system is being put into place with the pharmacy across the Kings Road, so that it will be possible for patients to renew prescriptions directly. I'm not sure how this will work. Another phone app probably.

As I approached the surgery entrance, I stopped to allow a woman to pass in front of me. On the whole I'm steady on my feet. I feel less agile at the moment due to the impact of the meds so I'm extra cautious when moving around outdoors. A violent blast of wind nearly blew me over. I just avoided a collision that would have toppled both of us. Quite unnerving. On the way home, empty rubbish bins that had been blown over obstructed the pavement. Pedestrians were walking past them with prams, on the edge of the pavement with traffic approaching them from behind, too close for comfort given the random gusts of wind. Weather warning phone apps cannot protect anyone on foot if they disregard potential hazards in their environment.

After the surgery, I went to Tesco's for a few groceries. I bought a packet of rye flour, as Clare was half way through preparing a batch of mixed grain bread when she realised she'd run out. I bought slices of turkey breast from the fresh meat chiller compartment. I haven't seen turkey meat on sale post Christmas for many years. I popped them in the oven to slow roast when I got home.

After a veggie pasta lunch, I returned to the GP surgery to collect my prescription, and was told that the meds request had been emailed to the pharmacy and would be ready for collection. I received three out of the four items prescribed and must return for the fourth tomorrow afternoon. I was given Clare's Cal-cd prescription to take home with me as well. I picked up a leaflet from the counter announcing the switch to electronic prescription ordering, with information about the phone app, and relevant website. One less piece of paper to lose at the eleventh hour. I just have to be sure not to misplace my phone!

By this afternoon the ill effect of my meds was less pronounced than usual, interfering less with thinking, and I was less sleepy than before despite losing an hour's sleep last night. Does it have anything to do with switching to chamomile tea I wonder? It is regarded for its mild anti-hypertensive and diuretic properties and as a soporific. I've noticed that I don't pee quite such a large volume in the night. I guess I'll find out in the course of time.

I went out for a teatime walk and forgot to put on my smart watch which had been on charge. I used my phone's pedometer to make a guesstimate of my walk in Llandaff Fields, to make sure I spent enough time exercising, even if it won't be on record - a bit obsessive I know, but I know that discipline keeps me fit. That's what counts.

After supper, I got to work on collecting digital photos of Rhiannon since birth, from several albums, to use for a 21st birthday slideshow video. A fiddly job to say the least. Tomorrow I'll enlist Clare's help to record a sound track. Talyaan has requested a selection of video material to turn into a birthday compilation. Heavens - how 21 years just slips by!

Under the weather

Another cold day interspersed with showers and gusts of wind. I woke up to a series of brief WhatsApp messages charting Sara's progress through the night and all day in terrible wet weather - Cardiff, Bristol, Schipol Paris, Gothenburg, with cancellations, delays and long waits  A miserable ending to a delightful weekend. And for Sara, a new job to start tomorrow, exhausted.

Last night I couldn't find the GP's prescription renewal document for meds I will need next week. I don't know where it went after unpacking the parcel containing it two weeks ago. I visited the GP website to request a new prescription, an was greeted by a security alert, as the secure page authorisation had not been updated. I took a screenshot and emailed it to the surgery, but will need to visit the surgery on Monday and ask that a new prescription request be dealt with urgently 

I had quite a good night's sleep, but the poisonous effect of the meds has left me feeling tired and unwell for most of the day. It's so daunting. We walked in the rain to St Catherine's for the Eucharist after breakfast. There were about thirty of us in church. As it's half term, there were no children attending Sunday Club this week.

After lunch I found myself falling asleep at the table, and went to bed for an hour before going out for a walk. I told Kath that I had still not received a bill from TalkTalk. She persuaded Owain to call and help me with an outline draft of a complaint letter for OFCOM, but I couldn't deal with it with a drug dulled brain.

When my mind did clear sufficiently to think and work without making mistakes, I had to focus on next Wednesday's Morning Prayer in case I become too poorly to get any work done. It's Ash Wednesday this week. I recorded and edited the audio I needed, and after supper made the video slideshow for uploading to YouTube. It was a slow process, taking up much of the evening. 

When tidying books and papers on a lounge side table, the missing prescription turned up, in an unexpected pile of stuff. Prescription panic over now, thank heavens! 

I was glad to take refuge in bed early before report of Sara's arrival home made my phone buzz. Peace of mind now. 

Fight cancellation equals travel chaos

Sara arrived from Elgano's to have breakfast with us at nine this morning. Thankfully she had a good night's sleep in her hotel.. I had just got up and taken my meds, after a night's sleep with less wakefulness than usual. I woke up refreshed, but the benefit was soon lost due to the impact of the meds. Sara went to town after  we'd eaten, to hunt for a Cardiff souvenir for Ebba. 

Clare and I met her at the Halfway pub on her return and went for a walk, talking about many things non-stop. So many things to share face to face rather than write to each other about. It was cold and dry. We went to Llandaff Cathedral where Sara took a photo of the nave which is now her phone's home screen wallpaper. We had coffee and cake in Jasper's tea room. 

Sara took a moment to check in for tomorrow's KLM flight home to Gothenberg, and was shocked to find it had been cancelled. She was re-routed from Bristol to Schipol, Schipol to Paris and then Paris to Gothenberg. To get to Bristol in time for an early flight means taking a very early 04.25 coach to Bristol, leaving Elgano's at 4.00, thankfully five minutes walk away. What a horror!

I cooked lunch when we got back, then we sat and talked all afternoon and had an early supper. She left us for the hotel at seven to catch as much sleep as possible, to be ready for a home journey as long as a transatlantic flight, starting so early in the day, so we parted company tonight, not midday tomorrow as planned. 

Sara starts a new job on Monday. She had to call her new boss to inform him about her predicament, just in case anything else happens to delay her on the first day of classes after half-term. Then calls with each of her parents and her husband, to tell them what had happened. A lot of Swedish was spoken at home this afternoon!

It was wonderful to spend quality time together after all these years. Sara and I met in Geneva just before Clare and I moved to Monte Carlo 25 years ago, so it's a special anniversary year in a friendship sustained by correspondence. This was her third visit in all that time. I've never visited Sweden and may never do so sadly. 

We talked so much during this reunion filled with insight for me, I didn't realise how tired I was until she'd left and the house descended into quiet. She just messaged me to say good night God bless. I must now finish the day and get to bed.

Sensitivity

Good to see blue sky this morning, despite a population of smaller clouds. More wet weather warnings, but a dry start to the day. Sara slept well in Elgano's hotel and turned up for breakfast at nine. She needed a little navigational help by phone, having walked here in the dark last night. It's the same problem as I had last night finding the access road to the Coach station in the dark. 

Still deeply tired from yesterday with insufficient sleep to recover well, the morning meds made me feel terrible. I went out and walked for an hour to clear my head and met Clare with Sara on their way into town for souvenir shopping. I fell asleep in my armchair for another hour before lunch, then cooked tomatoes and mushrooms to eat with a couple of slices of toast. Sara and Clare returned from town and we spent time chatting and drinking tea. 

We went early to Stefano's for supper. The food was good, but the noise of guests arriving, and table talk against a background of Italian pop ballads made conversation difficult. It wasn't so much being unable to hear, but hearing too much of an assortment of sounds, unable to distinguish and concentrate on listening to soft spoken Sara across the table. There were too many distractions to filter out and process quickly enough to maintain the conversation thread adequately. It's worse with a tired slow acting brain. Dining out is something I don't look forward to these days. We were back home by seven, and Sara returned to her hotel, tired after a stimulating, active day. I spent the rest of the evening reflecting on the day, starting to acknowledge the way the stroke has made me realise just how sensitive I am. It's something I hid from myself behind behaviour learned to cope with overwhelming and painful stimulus. Brain slowdown sabotaged my ability to cope and unmasked the extent of my sensitivity and how I haven't lived with it as well as I could by fully acknowledging it.

The world we inhabit is toxic to sensitive people. It's geared to over stimulation, aimed at retaining attention to promote ideas or products, not allowing enough space to feel free in, and think things through quietly. The struggle is exhausting from the mental effort to make sense of and comply with a plethora of demands and stimuli life throws at them. The problem is that people get stigmatised for being 'different' The culture and environment they inhabit and react to makes them turn in on themselves and disengage or hyper-react defending sensitivity they are socialised to ignore and repress. It's less difficult to look after yourself well, as you learn what kind of person you are, and accept you are not only a child of God, but also a gift and blessing to others, just as you are and were meant to be. That's a lot to take in and sleep on.

No answers

 Up at seven thirty getting ready to walk to an appointment for medical tests at St David's Hospital. I was five minutes late, but worse than that had been given an eight thirty appointment which was incorrectly communicated to me. The nurse was looking for me in the lobby, a familiar face and voice. Catherine the acupuncturist who worked on me a decade ago, whose daughter Clare taught in the Steiner school. Quite a surprise! She steered me through a series of procedures to assess mobility, general fitness, cognition, an electro cardio graph, blood pressure tested standing, sitting and lying down. What with the conversations between tests, my blood pressure as usual was scarily high. I got to see an expert geriatric consultant, to go through the results. The conversation was intense and I was able to vent my frustration at being given medication that makes me feel ill every day, not better. I learned that I needed a blood test while fasting to assess my cholesterol, so I will get an appointment for that. I need to know if the statins I am obliged to take are justified by my actual cholesterol levels. The surgery didn't propose this. 

I will have to wear a blood pressure monitor 24/7 for a week to assess how 'normal' are the spikes and troughs in my blood pressure readings. I did this ten years ago and that delivered no useful information. I just hope newer kit will work more consistently. My night's sleep is broken enough already without the disturbance of being strapped to an uncomfortable machine. Blood tests were taken. No change in medication for now until the data provides an overall picture of my health condition to work from. I was told the clot dispersal meds are a life sentence, despite the havoc they wreak on my intestines, and the leaky wounds that are the result of taking them. Diet and exercise are what's needed to promote health. The impact of the meds deprives me of two to three hours' sleep a night and that is doing me no good whatsoever. No answers that would improve my quality of life. No wonder I still feel angry and resentful. The medics seem unconcerned that sleep loss is impeding my recovery, and affecting my mental health and well being. 

It was after two when I got home. Clare had already eaten after her morning eye appointment, so I cooked a veggie pasta dish for myself, then slept for a couple of hours. While waiting for her afternoon flight Sara and I started exchanging messages,  worried about the transfer to the Cardiff coach. It worked perfectly, and I went to meet her at Sophia Gardens at seven fifteen. The coach station has bad lighting and signage. I know the location well, but it was so dark, that with my visual impairment and fatigue, I had trouble identifying and reaching the arrival area. Sara was off the coach and I had to call her in order to make contact. Once we'd found each other drizzle turned into proper light rain. Then we walked to the Elgano Guest House where she is staying to check in, then home for supper. For her it was an hour later, so she left us by taxi at nine, and will be back for breakfast at nine tomorrow. I'm exhausted after a demanding day both physically and mentally, so tired my typo count is high, like my blood pressure. I need sleep, lots of it.

Kath on the case

Another damp and overcast day, but not much rain. I slept badly, losing sleep rehearsing things I needed to take care of today, but eventually woke up clear headed and sharp to start with. I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to the Parish WhatsApp prayer thread when I got up for breakfast at eight. 

The toxic impact of the meds was not as pronounced as has been before until I started to tire in the afternoon. i made a start on writing a Reflection for next week when it's Ash Wednesday and completed it late in the day. I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. Eleven of us at today's service. I cooked lunch while Clare was out shopping, then went for a walk in the park after eating. I asked Kath's help in contacting TalkTalk to ask for a copy of our final account bill, which I think may need challenging. She certainly succeeded in getting results I despaired of getting. While I was walking in the park at sunset. She tracked the TalkTalk equipment return parcel to its destination from the Post Office receipt. I'd been unable to figure out how to extract this info. 

She obtained screenshot evidence that parcel delivery had been fulfilled. She then set about contacting TalkTalk accounts, logging into their website and using their default direct messaging app to pursue her request for a final account closing bill. The login process using my personal credentials established on their system, rejected my password to hinder the process of gaining access. Exactly the same frustration I had with it that led me to close my user unfriendly TalkTalk account.

Kath did get through and accessed the Direct Messaging app. She was able to download the record of exchanges which I was unable to do. I'm promised a paper bill in a week or so, but am unsure I'll receive a .pdf version as well. I'm promised a phone call from their accounts office about the final account bill.  Kath has found the necessary evidence to support our demand for an explanation of the large direct debit. There's a strong likelihood this call will happen before I have a copy of the bill to scrutinise.

Ashley and I had a long conversation about this affair and he said there were several breaches of consumer legislation in the way this issue has been dealt with by TalkTalk giving grounds for legal action against the company, and these would support a complaint made to OFCOM. Processing all this information, given  how tired I am today, was overwhelming. I need a respite from thinking in order to recover and prepare for whatever comes next.

After supper I watched a couple of undemanding episodes of 'Patience' to relax before bed. All round medical examination first thing in the morning. Stayed up too late again.