9 June 2012

Posted by DMC on 10 June 2012 in Diary |

The doing and froing continued right until my bedtime. First to go was Smiler. He was carrying out his weekly check on me and with the assurance of the good Doctor Michael I hope he went home reasonably satisfied that I was not in imminent danger of snuffing it. It is great seeing them both, Miles and Chloe here almost every week, since my recent setback over the respirator, leaving me weak and feeling extremely ill, whatever the reason. So I would not want to put them off completely, but merely convinced them that, in all honesty, I have had no indication from any of my medical team that I could ‘pop my clogs’ at any time. (To’ pop one’s clogs’ has traditionally meant precisely what it says, to pop means to pawn (raise money from a pawnbroker) on your clogs (wooden shoes) as an absolute extreme resort. After that there was nothing presumably that once and got to the point, of having to possibly pop one’s clogs’ you were pretty well done for.). I notice that I used an earlier the expression to ‘snuff it’ which pretty much as the same meaning accept in this case it was referring to snuffing out the candle, before the days of electricity, the simile to’ public one’s clogs’ being obvious.

Our next caller was Judith William Powlette (a W/P). She came bearing gifts, biscuits which she had baked herself. Husband, Barton, who had made the arrangement, in the event, was too busy hauling up trellises between his house and his neighbour’s. Judith was ushered out at midday when my lunchtime caller arrived. Sadly, I had not managed to complete my blog, before Judith arrived and as a result, found myself struggling, when I was completely exhausted, just before I went to bed, trying to finish it, so at least I would be up to date. Gtting up

the medical meAfter lunch Jill Simpson, who has been a real help in picking up the odd item from the supermarket, called in and shortly after that Barry, our old taxi driver turned up to take the good Doctor to Stansted airport. Readers will remember that it was about this time last year that, following my trip to my niece’s wedding in Cornwall, where I was cared for by Barry and wife Denise, that shortly after his return Barry was rushed into Addenbrookes with a serious back complaint, as then underdiagnosed. It turned out to be a series of cysts under his spine for which, I had not been responsible in any way. as we had feared, due to the extra lifting me in out of the car during this trip. Well, I’m very pleased to report that the Barry, who stood before me yesterday was twice the man I saw six months ago when he was still battling with these cysts. His overall demeanour seemed improved, his colour was good and he was beginning to put on weight again. All good signs. He whisked the Doctor off to the airport, at present, scheduled not to be seen here again until August, but then you know how it is, with the Doctor he could turn up at any time and would be assured of a warm welcome.

The next person to appear was my darling daughter Chloe. She missed brother Miles by a few hours. I had originally wondered whether they were both coming down the same weekend because of Father’s Day, which, in fact, is not until next Sunday, and had made a mistake over the weekend that I was doing was wrong over that. I have never been one for making a fuss about Father’s Day – it really is just a commercial invention with nothing like the pull of Mother’s Day. However, I’m pleased to say that I was entirely wrong in guessing this for the reason for them both appearing at the same weekend; it was a complete coincidence.

So, as I say Miles disappeared back to London to be replaced by Chloe. The dear girl, had brought us some food cooked by supermarket giant Sainsbury’s.. It was spicy and quite delicious and I seem to recall it was a Mexican or Argentinian dish called catalan. The six o’clock girl was soon upon us, dear Christian, full of fun and laughter. I was fading fast by this time. So by the time we finished supper, it was not that long before the pill popping process which preceded my bedtime, came round and I was actually hoisted and wheeled through to my welcoming bed. I never thought I would take to earlier bedtimes but I must confess, there are times, when I welcome it. It had been a lovely day seeing some of my favourite people, but to be honest, I was whacked and look forward to sleep.

For those of my readers who are dog tired and cannot wait to get to bed and then ironically find it difficult to go to sleep, click here for a few stories which may help to send you off.

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