It has been an interesting past seven days. Some of my more regular readers may have been wondering what has become of me! Quite a lot of time has been spent exploring parts of my local hospital – St Thomas’s in London - where I had the opportunity to observe some bits in closer action than I would have wished!
I was recently put on some new medication in order to try to maintain what little residual sight I have. The hospital warned me that I might experience some side effects, the most common being chronic fatigue and sickness and very loose bowels.
The fatigue soon became apparent - and is still with me - but nothing prepared me for the horrors that were to come. After a couple of days, I began to feel rather strange. Then, one afternoon, I suddenly became semi-comatose and then felt as though I was on a trip induced by LSD – or what I imagine that to be like!
First of all, I felt very light headed and then very heavy and confused. Suddenly, it became very dark followed quickly by as though I was viewing everything through rose-tinted spectacles: everything was red! I began to panic - thinking that I was having some sort of bleed in my eyes! Wondering what I should do, I decided to have a short rest.
When I woke up, I was having wild hallucinations with lots of flashing lights and scenes from fairgrounds and a feeling as though I was going up and down in some form of roller coaster. And then there were the children … I found myself surrounded by a small group of children: all white, aged between about three to five years of age, all jumping up and down in the room with me, holding knifes and waving them at me. I phoned the hospital and was told to come around immediately to A&E to get myself checked out!
Anyone who has ever attended an A&E department - especially as a non-emergency case - will know there is an awful lot of sitting around to go through; that the surroundings will be less than inspiring and that your company will include a rich variety of citizens drawn from the modern day equivalent of Hogarth and Dickens. The mad and sad and the hard and bad were all there in abundance, along with assortments of relatives, drunks, homeless, and security staff.
Fortunately, the place was relatively quiet and after taking my numbered ticket I was seen by a triage nurse within the statutory 15 minutes. My blood pressure was exceptionally high (230/190) and my eyes appeared very bloodshot, although heart and temperature readings seemed normal. And thus it was that I waited for several hours to be seen by a doctor - whilst still experiencing psychedelic visions - and putting up with the strange people around me in a very hot environment.
After a long delay, I asked one of the nurses what was happening. He investigated and found that I had been put in the queue for major incidents rather than minor incidents. He was able to fish me out of one system and into another, which meant that after another twenty minutes or so I was taken to a cubicle and made to undress for a full physical examination. A lovely doctor soon appeared and did a full examination. It turned out that I was one of the one in 1,000 who experienced some of these bad side effects and that they would go away, but I should immediately stop taking any more of that medication and return to the clinic the following day to be seen as an urgent case for review.
I was also given some drugs to help lower my blood pressure and reduce hypertension and advised to see my GP about this as soon as possible.
So, some five hours after arriving at the hospital I was home and had something to eat. And I have to say that a bit of food and something to drink made an enormous difference! I spent a disturbed night experiencing minor hallucinations but things had improved by the following day so I was able to present myself at the clinic where they listened with great interest, care and concern and immediately switched me to an alternative drug regime … which I am happy to report has few side effects and hopefully will be effective.
But as for A & E! How I would just love to get my organisational hands on them as the whole process seems so slow and disorganized … but then it is a busy London hospital and I know that away from major cities the systems are very much better.
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
Monday, 5 January 2009
Monday 5 January
Thank heavens! Normality has returned! That odd period of offices and businesses being shut for two weeks has come to an end. Never did I think that I would love the traffic jams outside my front door or the crowding on the buses and tubes as much as I do today! Many parts of London have become like a ghost town for the past few weeks. My local small supermarkets, for example, have been stocked with shelves of small simple items rather than the more normal produce. I really don’t know where this two-week shutdown originated from but it is serious enough for Capital Radio to be running competitions where listeners could nominate any friends or family who were working to win a big prize! It’s all becoming rather like the French closure during August, which equally seems to be affecting much of the UK.
One of the benefits of people returning to normality is that you get to hear about the wretched times they had over Christmas and the New Year. All the arguments and disputes with family members, all the cases where intoxicated relatives - particularly elderly ones - severely embarrass both themselves and all the guests, and gruesome tales of inedible food or over-indulgence. A friend returning from a festive sojourn with in-laws in Cardiff, tells me that they tried to go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve night only to discover that the parish priest had dropped dead of a heart attack that morning, and how on Christmas Day oysters had been served up as a special Welsh delicacy, only to result in all of the party being admitted to hospital on Christmas night with severe food poisoning!
Another friend recounts the ghastly experience of visiting parents in Nottinghamshire, where a motley selection of aunties have been assembled. At present-exchanging time on Christmas morning, it seems that one aunt recycled a gift from another aunt in a previous year, presenting it to another aunt, also present. Seemingly, a very frosty atmosphere lingered for the duration of the holiday.
And another returning friend tells of the tragedy of her best friend’s brother - who very drunkenly took a short cut home across some railway lines in the early hours of New Year’s Day - and was killed by the express train that he failed to either see or hear.
It makes you realise that however bad your own Christmas and New Year was, it was worse for some other people.
Now is that time of year when we celebrate the coming of the Kings, the Wise Men, to see the baby in Bethlehem. I wonder what we would do today if we had those gifts of fold, frankincense and myrrh to offer and to share?
One of the benefits of people returning to normality is that you get to hear about the wretched times they had over Christmas and the New Year. All the arguments and disputes with family members, all the cases where intoxicated relatives - particularly elderly ones - severely embarrass both themselves and all the guests, and gruesome tales of inedible food or over-indulgence. A friend returning from a festive sojourn with in-laws in Cardiff, tells me that they tried to go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve night only to discover that the parish priest had dropped dead of a heart attack that morning, and how on Christmas Day oysters had been served up as a special Welsh delicacy, only to result in all of the party being admitted to hospital on Christmas night with severe food poisoning!
Another friend recounts the ghastly experience of visiting parents in Nottinghamshire, where a motley selection of aunties have been assembled. At present-exchanging time on Christmas morning, it seems that one aunt recycled a gift from another aunt in a previous year, presenting it to another aunt, also present. Seemingly, a very frosty atmosphere lingered for the duration of the holiday.
And another returning friend tells of the tragedy of her best friend’s brother - who very drunkenly took a short cut home across some railway lines in the early hours of New Year’s Day - and was killed by the express train that he failed to either see or hear.
It makes you realise that however bad your own Christmas and New Year was, it was worse for some other people.
Now is that time of year when we celebrate the coming of the Kings, the Wise Men, to see the baby in Bethlehem. I wonder what we would do today if we had those gifts of fold, frankincense and myrrh to offer and to share?
New Year's Day 2009
It would be nice to report that was all was well, but in truth I’m not the happiest of chappies at the moment! True, some friends came round last night and dragged me out for some celebrations and we very much enjoyed the fireworks on the River Thames … along with several hundred thousand other people! Living a few minutes away from the river means that it’s incredibly convenient to get - literally round the corner - to the London Eye but not quite so good when you have to share it! Matters not helped by the Police closing off all the local roads and the whole area becoming a pedestrian only zone – complete with vast numbers of drunken revellers all seeming to pass by my front door in the early hours of this morning. But at least I should be glad that I was able to get out and appreciate the free entertainment. Several people I know seem to have been laid low with nasty viruses over the past few days and one person has been ill in bed with food poisoning ever since Christmas when their host’s cooking obviously was a bit of a disaster!
The friend that I had expected to spend Christmas with texted me on Boxing Day to wish me a happy Christmas and to say that he had tried to get through on the phone but had experienced major difficulties. He had been invited round to his bosses home for the day; he had called round to see my on the way home but obviously I had not been there. I phoned him and we arranged to meet up. I explained that I was more than a bit upset but then at the last minute that meeting got cancelled too. By a curious coincidence this was the only person not to reciprocate my “Happy New Year” text so it looks like that friendship/relationship is a thing of the past.
On top of that, I had a big falling-out with another friend over a simple misunderstanding. She’d been ill with flu, which seemed to be dragging on and on, and we were talking quite a lot on the phone. After leaving a message as well as sending a text and not hearing anything back for some 36 hours, I had become a bit worried. I then sent another text to ask if anything was the matter. This seemed to provoke a whole tirade of stuff about me not giving people enough space and that it was unrealistic to expect every call and message to be answered. So it looks like it’s time to give that one a rest - no doubt things will sort themselves out in time!
On top of that, I had a big falling-out with another friend over a simple misunderstanding. She’d been ill with flu, which seemed to be dragging on and on, and we were talking quite a lot on the phone. After leaving a message as well as sending a text and not hearing anything back for some 36 hours, I had become a bit worried. I then sent another text to ask if anything was the matter. This seemed to provoke a whole tirade of stuff about me not giving people enough space and that it was unrealistic to expect every call and message to be answered. So it looks like it’s time to give that one a rest - no doubt things will sort themselves out in time!
I managed to get a few days away in Brighton seeing step-family in those lull days between Christmas and the New Year - the period of indolence when few people are working but there’s a vestige of normality with trains and public transport back in operation. It is SO annoying: why do the train companies not realise that many people want to travel on Boxing Day and that there should be some sort of basic service. Certainly, other European countries seem to appreciate that people want and need to travel - but then there is a long history of different attitudes towards public service and investment in public transport!
One of the delights of Brighton is its slightly decadent and maverick reputation, including the opportunity to revel in the sheer sleaziness of parts of the city nestling alongside quaint Regency houses. Where else, for example, could you find neighbouring shops offering antiques and giant pink inflatable plastic penises?
But the true joy was the introduction to Poundland, where, yes, every item costs £1! What a sheer delight to find such an abundance of bargains and so many things you never knew you wanted until you found them on the shelves! What am I to do with those six fridge magnet clips, or the bumper pack of pens, or the amazing value wine glasses? A friend tells me that there is a similar shop a short bus ride away from my flat, so my New Year’s resolution must be to save my £1 coins ready for those shopping trips!
One of the delights of Brighton is its slightly decadent and maverick reputation, including the opportunity to revel in the sheer sleaziness of parts of the city nestling alongside quaint Regency houses. Where else, for example, could you find neighbouring shops offering antiques and giant pink inflatable plastic penises?
But the true joy was the introduction to Poundland, where, yes, every item costs £1! What a sheer delight to find such an abundance of bargains and so many things you never knew you wanted until you found them on the shelves! What am I to do with those six fridge magnet clips, or the bumper pack of pens, or the amazing value wine glasses? A friend tells me that there is a similar shop a short bus ride away from my flat, so my New Year’s resolution must be to save my £1 coins ready for those shopping trips!
Christmas Day 2008
There’s an impending sense of gloom hanging over me today. Various Christmas plans have gone awry; I either have to make some alternative plans pretty quick, or bury my head under the duvet and hope things will get better.
Yesterday - Christmas Eve - was a long day. There were bits of last minute shopping to do, mostly stocking up on a few essentials for the days that the shops are closed, as well as delivering presents to various friends. One friend took pity on me and gave me a lift in his car, as I have to get to the local Royal Mail Sorting Office by 1pm to collect a parcel that the postman had been unable to deliver. Mysteriously, I had been “out” when he attempted to deliver it. I swear that they prepare those little cards in advance and don’t bother to ring the bell to save the trouble of carrying things round with them! The friend also took me on a detour so that I could deliver a couple of presents to the “special friend” where I was supposed to be going on Christmas Day. I struggle with the letter box thee to do my Santa bit, squeezing a couple of gift-wrapped books and some cologne through the fearsome letterbox!
Yesterday - Christmas Eve - was a long day. There were bits of last minute shopping to do, mostly stocking up on a few essentials for the days that the shops are closed, as well as delivering presents to various friends. One friend took pity on me and gave me a lift in his car, as I have to get to the local Royal Mail Sorting Office by 1pm to collect a parcel that the postman had been unable to deliver. Mysteriously, I had been “out” when he attempted to deliver it. I swear that they prepare those little cards in advance and don’t bother to ring the bell to save the trouble of carrying things round with them! The friend also took me on a detour so that I could deliver a couple of presents to the “special friend” where I was supposed to be going on Christmas Day. I struggle with the letter box thee to do my Santa bit, squeezing a couple of gift-wrapped books and some cologne through the fearsome letterbox!
In the evening and morning it’s off to religious celebrations. It is good to see large congregations swelling the ranks at both Midnight Mass and also on Christmas morning. Increasingly, it seems that people are going away for Christmas and so some familiar faces are not around. Perhaps the secularisation of society means that people who might have turned out at Christmas and Easter are now taking a raincheck on these things – although it was very cold!
All contact with the friend I was expecting to spend Christmas afternoon and evening with seems to fail. The phone keeps going to voicemail and I get no reply to text messages. So, at lunchtime I have to make the decision about what to do and having reassured other friends that I was taken care of, I phone up my Muslim friend, Baz, who I know is having a quiet day as he doesn’t celebrate Christmas. He tells me to come on round if I can find my way up to Stoke Newington! It was an expensive taxi up there, which included a quick visit to my friendly local Afghanistani shop where they know that customers want things 365 days of the year!
All contact with the friend I was expecting to spend Christmas afternoon and evening with seems to fail. The phone keeps going to voicemail and I get no reply to text messages. So, at lunchtime I have to make the decision about what to do and having reassured other friends that I was taken care of, I phone up my Muslim friend, Baz, who I know is having a quiet day as he doesn’t celebrate Christmas. He tells me to come on round if I can find my way up to Stoke Newington! It was an expensive taxi up there, which included a quick visit to my friendly local Afghanistani shop where they know that customers want things 365 days of the year!
It turns out that Baz has a heavy cold; however, not being a particularly strict Muslim he soon perks up when he sees the bottle of whisky that I’ve brought with me! We end up getting very drunk, eating a lot of chocolate and nuts, and devouring various strange vegetarian concoctions that make a pleasant change from Turkey and other meat-based traditional fare. I end up staying the night, and actually getting to know a guy who was originally just a casual acquaintance much better.
Just goes to show that it’s always good to have a standby plan ready - just in case! Oh, and that sometimes people who you thought were friends will let you down!
Just goes to show that it’s always good to have a standby plan ready - just in case! Oh, and that sometimes people who you thought were friends will let you down!
Monday 22 December
Well, there are only a few days to go now until the big day, when, to quote the carol: “Christmas comes once more”. I’m looking forward to a few days of normality before the hectic days of Christmas kick in; unbelievably I seem to have done most of my preparations! It also seems good that after more than my fair share of Christmas Carol Services I can have a wee rest, until the time comes to celebrate rather than anticipate the birth of the Saviour.
Last night an old friend of mine congratulated me on my excellent memory, when we were at a service of Nine Lessons and Carols. Fortunately, having been a chorister as a small boy, the words of many carols are firmly engrained in my mind. I can sing them all from memory – somewhat helpful when you can no longer read the words in the booklets handed out at most places. For some reason, churches tend to forget that the Disability Discrimination Act covers things like service booklets, and very rarely have I come across large print versions being made available. Anyway, I had a good sing - along with some old friends - and it was only occasionally that unfamiliar modern carols, or the more obscure that I only knew vaguely, caught me out!
The final Carol Service before Christmas coincided with birthday celebrations for one of my oldest friends. December 21st is not a good time of year to be expecting much on the present front for gifts that are not Christmassy or linked with the festive season! However, clearly all of us had worked hard to find gifts that would be acceptable and distinct. As we drank festive champagne and tucked into some rather delicious Spanish nibbles - thoughtfully provided by a friend who was visiting from Madrid - two separately themed piles (a birthday pile and a Christmas pile) grew mysteriously throughout the evening. My choice of present - a model of Margaret Thatcher that turned into a nutcracker (to be broken between her legs) - seemed to be in slightly poor taste compared to the books and DVDs that were preferred by my companions. Fortunately, my choice of Christmas present – a Nigella Lawson cookery book and a device for charging mobile phones in an emergency – seemed more on the tasteful side!
It felt somewhat strange as a group of 40 and 50-somethings all gathering together before the great Christmas getaway. We laughed and joked and had learned discussions about Christmas food all over Europe (other countries are so lucky to be free of the tyranny of the turkey). We also discovered a delicious way of eating Brussels sprouts – oven baked with cheese over them. And there was the bizarre revelation by a senior BBC journalist that she had recently been taught to pole dance when attending a hen party!
Last night an old friend of mine congratulated me on my excellent memory, when we were at a service of Nine Lessons and Carols. Fortunately, having been a chorister as a small boy, the words of many carols are firmly engrained in my mind. I can sing them all from memory – somewhat helpful when you can no longer read the words in the booklets handed out at most places. For some reason, churches tend to forget that the Disability Discrimination Act covers things like service booklets, and very rarely have I come across large print versions being made available. Anyway, I had a good sing - along with some old friends - and it was only occasionally that unfamiliar modern carols, or the more obscure that I only knew vaguely, caught me out!
The final Carol Service before Christmas coincided with birthday celebrations for one of my oldest friends. December 21st is not a good time of year to be expecting much on the present front for gifts that are not Christmassy or linked with the festive season! However, clearly all of us had worked hard to find gifts that would be acceptable and distinct. As we drank festive champagne and tucked into some rather delicious Spanish nibbles - thoughtfully provided by a friend who was visiting from Madrid - two separately themed piles (a birthday pile and a Christmas pile) grew mysteriously throughout the evening. My choice of present - a model of Margaret Thatcher that turned into a nutcracker (to be broken between her legs) - seemed to be in slightly poor taste compared to the books and DVDs that were preferred by my companions. Fortunately, my choice of Christmas present – a Nigella Lawson cookery book and a device for charging mobile phones in an emergency – seemed more on the tasteful side!
It felt somewhat strange as a group of 40 and 50-somethings all gathering together before the great Christmas getaway. We laughed and joked and had learned discussions about Christmas food all over Europe (other countries are so lucky to be free of the tyranny of the turkey). We also discovered a delicious way of eating Brussels sprouts – oven baked with cheese over them. And there was the bizarre revelation by a senior BBC journalist that she had recently been taught to pole dance when attending a hen party!
Time now to start wrapping those final presents and preparing to spend some time with “loved ones”.
Monday, 15 December 2008
Monday 15 December
They say that crime is going down. Based on recent evidence, I strongly doubt those statistics. Maybe it is “reported” crime that is going down; anyone who has ever had to report a crime to their local police will testify that you nearly give up the will to live whilst you wait on the phone to get through to someone, or queue for hours at a Police Station surrounded by various misfits, victims, and criminals.
A few nights ago, I was an audio witness to a vicious attack. I was chatting on the phone to one of my best friends as he walked home from Stratford Station after a long day of hard work, where he’d put in a 14-hour day. We were laughing and joking about nothing much in particular when I suddenly heard a commotion and a scuffle. A strange voice in the background said: “Hand it over” and then the phone went dead. I tried calling back but it went straight to voicemail. I then phoned the Police on 999 and explained what had happened. The only location for my friend’s whereabouts that I could give was somewhere between Stratford Station and my friend’s address. They took my number and said they would call back with any news.
Minutes ticked by and I became more and more anxious. Fearing the worst, my head filled with bizarre thoughts about hospitals, having to pretend to be a close relative, contacting family, and even the awfulness of having to identify a body. Just before midnight the phone rang; it was the police who had my friend in the police car with them. It turned out that he was safe and well - if a bit shaken up.
A few hundred metres from his front door a man had suddenly come up behind him, held a knife to his throat and demanded that he hand over his phone, all his cash and for some reason, his keys. Not surprisingly, my friend obeyed the instructions. Although he’s young and fit, you don’t argue when a knife is being held to your throat! The thief then did a runner. Two minutes later the police arrived by car and asked my friend if he was the one who had been attacked. As the attacker had come from behind and had remained behind at all times, it was not even possible to give a description. All the Police could do was take a short statement, issue a crime number, and then get my friend back to the station so he could catch the late tube to Waterloo to collect the spare set of keys to his flat that I had.
At about 1am my poor friend turned up at my flat looking very miserable. We went through the process of reporting the phone stolen and getting it blocked. My poor friend then had to head out into the night again to take the night bus home. He needed a change of clothing as he had an important meeting to attend at 9am. Seemingly, there’s no chance for a rest or flagging if you’re a young entrepreneur with a growing business to run!
The following morning I acted as secretary contacting the insurance people and phone company. I have to say that apart from the irritation of having to call an 0845 number, T-Mobile turned up trumps as a replacement phone and SIM card arrived by lunchtime the following day. My friend was soon back in action - apart from the inconvenience of having lost his entire address book - which he had lovingly recreated after his previous phone was stolen some months before from his locker at the gym he attended. So, the moral of this story is to always back-up your mobile phone address book!
The thief got away with £30, and a mobile phone that was blocked within an hour of the incident with the handset rendered useless by its IMEU number being blacklisted. But the thief’s actions caused massive emotional trauma - both to my friend and myself - excess charges on the insurance premium for the phone and replacement SIM card, as well as the cost of having the locks replaced at his home. A stupid, senseless crime - probably to fuel a drug habit - caused massive inconvenience and stress.
It’s at times like this that even liberal-minded people like myself think that there is something very wrong with society, that people should be able to safely walk the streets of our capital city at any time of day or night, and that the criminal justice system needs to be a little more punitive, and a little less forgiving!
A few nights ago, I was an audio witness to a vicious attack. I was chatting on the phone to one of my best friends as he walked home from Stratford Station after a long day of hard work, where he’d put in a 14-hour day. We were laughing and joking about nothing much in particular when I suddenly heard a commotion and a scuffle. A strange voice in the background said: “Hand it over” and then the phone went dead. I tried calling back but it went straight to voicemail. I then phoned the Police on 999 and explained what had happened. The only location for my friend’s whereabouts that I could give was somewhere between Stratford Station and my friend’s address. They took my number and said they would call back with any news.
Minutes ticked by and I became more and more anxious. Fearing the worst, my head filled with bizarre thoughts about hospitals, having to pretend to be a close relative, contacting family, and even the awfulness of having to identify a body. Just before midnight the phone rang; it was the police who had my friend in the police car with them. It turned out that he was safe and well - if a bit shaken up.
A few hundred metres from his front door a man had suddenly come up behind him, held a knife to his throat and demanded that he hand over his phone, all his cash and for some reason, his keys. Not surprisingly, my friend obeyed the instructions. Although he’s young and fit, you don’t argue when a knife is being held to your throat! The thief then did a runner. Two minutes later the police arrived by car and asked my friend if he was the one who had been attacked. As the attacker had come from behind and had remained behind at all times, it was not even possible to give a description. All the Police could do was take a short statement, issue a crime number, and then get my friend back to the station so he could catch the late tube to Waterloo to collect the spare set of keys to his flat that I had.
At about 1am my poor friend turned up at my flat looking very miserable. We went through the process of reporting the phone stolen and getting it blocked. My poor friend then had to head out into the night again to take the night bus home. He needed a change of clothing as he had an important meeting to attend at 9am. Seemingly, there’s no chance for a rest or flagging if you’re a young entrepreneur with a growing business to run!
The following morning I acted as secretary contacting the insurance people and phone company. I have to say that apart from the irritation of having to call an 0845 number, T-Mobile turned up trumps as a replacement phone and SIM card arrived by lunchtime the following day. My friend was soon back in action - apart from the inconvenience of having lost his entire address book - which he had lovingly recreated after his previous phone was stolen some months before from his locker at the gym he attended. So, the moral of this story is to always back-up your mobile phone address book!
The thief got away with £30, and a mobile phone that was blocked within an hour of the incident with the handset rendered useless by its IMEU number being blacklisted. But the thief’s actions caused massive emotional trauma - both to my friend and myself - excess charges on the insurance premium for the phone and replacement SIM card, as well as the cost of having the locks replaced at his home. A stupid, senseless crime - probably to fuel a drug habit - caused massive inconvenience and stress.
It’s at times like this that even liberal-minded people like myself think that there is something very wrong with society, that people should be able to safely walk the streets of our capital city at any time of day or night, and that the criminal justice system needs to be a little more punitive, and a little less forgiving!
Monday, 8 December 2008
Monday 8 December
It’s been a very chilly few days recently in London with icy winds and low temperatures. And because things never happen at opportune times, it was last Wednesday that my neighbours noticed a smell of gas and called out the gas board to check. So on Wednesday evening, I arrived home to find much of the pavement outside my street front door dug up, a team of British Gas workmen digging more holes, and the gas cut off! On Thursday morning they came and turned off the supply in my flat for safety reasons, gave me a telephone number where I could ask for a temporary electric hotplate to cook on, and cheerfully said that it could be some days before the gas supply could be restored!
That night a friend of mine who had just arrived in the UK from Saudi Arabia came round to see me. Having been used to nighttime temperatures in the mid 20s, he found London distinctly cold and my flat like a fridge. He’d intended staying with me for a couple of days but stayed for an only hour before apologising and finding some other friends to stay with!
I managed to lay my hands on an electric radiator and a fan heater the following day. While these improved things no end, I could almost feel the electricity bill notching up every time I turned the fan heater on. Fortunately, on Sunday the workmen returned and announced with pride that they had isolated the leak and that it was safe to turn the gas back on. Never has that reassuring whoosh of the boiler coming on been such a sweet sound and the ease of turning on the hot water tap and hot, rather than tepid, water coming out of it been so welcome!
It’s that time of year when Elizabeth Finn Care beneficiaries receive their Christmas Hampers. After a couple of abortive attempts at delivery whilst I was out, my hamper arrived. As always, there is the excitement of opening the box and digging around in the sea of white polystyrene packing shapes to discover what goodies are lurking deep down inside. The cold weather gives it an extra frissant, and of course there is always the pleasure that getting anything brings.
My delving into the polystyrene-filled box reveals the normal eccentric mix of the really useful, the odd treat, and a selection of the bizarre and useless! The spirit of Marie-Antoinette and Paddington Bear seems to permeate the selection as cake and marmalade and jam seem to dominate. There’s some cheese and dates, a Christmas pudding, mince pies, chocolates and a bottle of wine … but what will I do with a tin of whole red peppers and the royal game soup? Or the pickles and the chutney, and the redcurrant jelly? As I ruminate over these questions whilst contemplating the After Eight cloned chocolates and the chocolate nuts packaged to look like just Brazils, I ponder how difficult it must be to please all those people who receive hampers!
Earlier in the week, I find myself being whisked off to Bedford for a meeting to try and make the Elizabeth Finn Care name better known in Bedfordshire. There’s an illustrious selection of guests from the voluntary sector there - including the High Sheriff - when it comes to talking to the group about how things went wrong for me, I find myself unusually moved by my own story and how I ended up needing help. Several times I find myself becoming tearful and emotional, however, I am reassured to get a sympathetic round of applause. I am told later that I genuinely moved some of the audience … so even the saddest of tales can produce positive results.
That night a friend of mine who had just arrived in the UK from Saudi Arabia came round to see me. Having been used to nighttime temperatures in the mid 20s, he found London distinctly cold and my flat like a fridge. He’d intended staying with me for a couple of days but stayed for an only hour before apologising and finding some other friends to stay with!
I managed to lay my hands on an electric radiator and a fan heater the following day. While these improved things no end, I could almost feel the electricity bill notching up every time I turned the fan heater on. Fortunately, on Sunday the workmen returned and announced with pride that they had isolated the leak and that it was safe to turn the gas back on. Never has that reassuring whoosh of the boiler coming on been such a sweet sound and the ease of turning on the hot water tap and hot, rather than tepid, water coming out of it been so welcome!
It’s that time of year when Elizabeth Finn Care beneficiaries receive their Christmas Hampers. After a couple of abortive attempts at delivery whilst I was out, my hamper arrived. As always, there is the excitement of opening the box and digging around in the sea of white polystyrene packing shapes to discover what goodies are lurking deep down inside. The cold weather gives it an extra frissant, and of course there is always the pleasure that getting anything brings.
My delving into the polystyrene-filled box reveals the normal eccentric mix of the really useful, the odd treat, and a selection of the bizarre and useless! The spirit of Marie-Antoinette and Paddington Bear seems to permeate the selection as cake and marmalade and jam seem to dominate. There’s some cheese and dates, a Christmas pudding, mince pies, chocolates and a bottle of wine … but what will I do with a tin of whole red peppers and the royal game soup? Or the pickles and the chutney, and the redcurrant jelly? As I ruminate over these questions whilst contemplating the After Eight cloned chocolates and the chocolate nuts packaged to look like just Brazils, I ponder how difficult it must be to please all those people who receive hampers!
Earlier in the week, I find myself being whisked off to Bedford for a meeting to try and make the Elizabeth Finn Care name better known in Bedfordshire. There’s an illustrious selection of guests from the voluntary sector there - including the High Sheriff - when it comes to talking to the group about how things went wrong for me, I find myself unusually moved by my own story and how I ended up needing help. Several times I find myself becoming tearful and emotional, however, I am reassured to get a sympathetic round of applause. I am told later that I genuinely moved some of the audience … so even the saddest of tales can produce positive results.
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