28 July 2012

Shortly before we went to bed last night there was a knock on the door, which turned out to be some local schoolchildren delivering the local paper. The reason for knocking was then wondered whether we knew we had a hedgehog in the garden. They had spotted a tiny baby hedgehog on the garden path between the gate and the house. Well, we’ve always known that we had at least one adult hedgehog and now we must assume there were at least two-and you tell one hedgehog from another?-As this baby was probably conceived and born in our garage where they have made a nest. Alice, went out and retrieved the little thing, and after feeding it released it in familiar territory in the hope that it found its way home.

As I sat waiting for Alice to return which seemed an age after 10 to 15 min, my imagination took flight and I wonder what on earth are you here for some reason she did not come back. (She had had an accident or a heart attack). This is rarely anxiety is beginning to kick in. I realise more and more are terribly vulnerable I am. I cannot move and therefore get to the telephone and have no way of attracting attention to anyone outside the house. Of course, these sort of fears are generally unfounded as the likelihood of anything happening Alice during a 10/15 min absence is extremely slight. However, does not stop one from worrying and getting very edgy over the smallest thing – a serious itchy nose, or a lump of food stuck in your teeth. Being ugly unable to do anything about this sort of irritation, in itself requires the patient to exercise calm and logic. In the meantime I have been given some’ anxiety’ pills which I could take three times a day but today can only succumbed to one pill late in the evening. Fortunately, I have the OT from the Arthur Rank Hospice in Cambridge, coming to see me on Tuesday to discuss anxiety and other issues.

Alice has taken to reading to me extracts from The Times, or the parish magazine, of items which she thinks might interest me. This morning she found an obituary for Billy Griffiths, who was described as an RAF lorry driver who was blinded and lost both hands while a Japanese prisoner of war, but went on to found his own haulage company. There were two things to be said about this obituary. Firstly, it made me feel very foolish to get anxious over incredibly small things. Compared with Billy’s pain and suffering and ultimate disability, mine shade into insignificance. The second fascinating thing about this obituary was that whilst in the Japanese prisoner of war camp. He was operated on by Lieutenant-Colonel (later Sir Edward) “Weary.” Dunlop of the Australian Auxiliary Medical Corps , who operated on him and immediately. “Weary.” Dunlop, some time later, became good friends with the good Doctor Michael and was responsible for establishing the Flying Doctor Service in Australia. To this day, Michael is a trustee of the Flying Doctor Service.

Returning to Billy Griffiths, one could not but be immensely impressed with his courage and fortitude. “Weary.” Dunlop had operated on him for a couple of hours. “During which the remove the remains of Griffiths’ eyes and tidied the stumps of his arms, he gave his leg only a 30-70% chance of being saved” After the months of rehabilitation, Billy Griffiths was taught business management by a member of St Dunstan’s with a view to setting up a new haulage contracting business of his own.

Billy learn to type using fittings to his stumps and dial the telephone with his tongue. Compared with Billy, then, what on earth am I anxious about! of grievances

Yesterday, as I said, was the grand Opening Ceremony for the Olympiad 2012 Games, which, did not finished much before 1.00 a.m. so it brings it into today. ‘My lovely’ and I could not stay up until the early hours so we decided to watch it this afternoon, at our leisure. As a result of’ Paul ‘computer’s skill I was able to access it through my laptop and play it on the television.

There seems to be universal acclaim for the outcome, which we are told cost £23 million. I shall not attempt to describe what was going on in one part of the arena or other I should need a prodigious memory or a complete set of notes. As I have neither, this will just be my general impression, 24 hours after the event.

The opening scene showed that the Arena had been turned into a complete corner of rural England with a small orchestra on one edge playing Elgar, all around were scenes that one might expected to have seen at an indeterminate stage in our history. Basically they were rural pursuits. Farmers with flocks of sheep; local people playing cricket; others dancing round the Maypole, and so.

This led us to the Industrial Revolution, when Great Britain’s power was at its zenith, five enormous factory chimneys emerged from the ground. Some 100/150 feet high with smoke billowing out at the top. There’s no way, to my mind, that these iconic symbols of the Industrial Revolution, were what they appeared to be. The hydraulic equipment required underground to raise such a mass, would have been prodigious, so I can only believe that they were made from some sort of paper or canvas, which, at the right moment, collapsed and disappeared. As this was one continuing pageant, events and activities came and went‘ but in all instances there were matters almost uniquely British.

Our poor Queen certainly had to sit through at least a couple of hours before officially opening the games and then, I suspect, she was discreetly whisked away. In presenting this tableau of snippets of what the producers thought were ‘essentially British’, there were inevitably some part of the presentation, which did not appeal to everyone. For example, a session of’ ‘rap’ music. I can think of other forms of music which I believe would have been more appropriate. However, to pick out any individual event in this vast singular tableau could give the wrong impression; it was throbbing, alive and continuous build up to the main event, the lighting of the massive torch (or cauldron). Who was to have unique honour of lighting this torch.? It was a heavily guarded secret that had not leaked out and was therefore a great surprise and delight to the estimated 1 billion viewers around the world. This ‘torch’ turned out to be a huge cauldron, from the resembling, from a South African protea. Six or eight of our young athletes, who carried a torch around the arena, who had been selected by some of the big names in world sport, simultaneously lit a huge copper petal, forming part of the cauldron on a very long is stalk. Once the flame had completed its circle all of the petals swung up from the ground to form another circle of fire around the torch.

The torch seemed to grow in size and thus accompanied by a short but grand firework display, was the climate of the Opening Ceremony.

For some reason the artistic director, for this event, allowed the show to go on with a personal appearance from Sir Paul McCartney – one of the iconic Beatles of the 60s’. I suppose following the ‘the typical British’ approach, for what was more British than the Beatles, at the time? and I think on that point, the whole thing fizzled out and the 80,000 or so people in the Arena, wondered how long it would take them to get home.

My personal overall feeling was one of relief. We had not let ourselves down and yet we had not made the mistake of attempting to match the magnificent opening ceremony
for the last Olympic Games by the Chinese, in Beijing. The artistic director had done what I, and no doubt thousands of others wished on him, keep it simple and keep it British. In that respect, I must say it was 100% success. As to it being the best ever opening ceremony, as one commentator, opined, I have my doubts but then we are all entitled to our opinion and it was clear that the overall majority thought it was a great success. So thank you to the thousands of people participated in this uniquely entertaining event. Now, on with the show.

Over the next two weeks we will be smothered with a surfeit of Olympic events. I can only possibly comment at random on some of the more important or interesting events and, at the end of the day, where we stand in the overall medal table, although I must stress that I do not believe that the number of medals necessarily reflects the true Olympic spirit, which to my mind, and many others, is not merely who wins but how you took part.

27 July 2012

The big day has arrived. The opening ceremony for the 2012 Olympic Games. Then our case it was a little bit of anti-climax as it did not start until nine o’clock and went on until midnight. As a result we saw nothing of the today but my good friend Paul’ the computer’ downloaded for me and will produce the tape in a day or two. So, as I write in the early morning of 27^th., I have no idea how successful was this opening ceremony. Hopefully I will be in a position to comment, tomorrow.

On the personal front, following Doctor Margaret Saunders visit, things are already on the move. One only matters. I discussed with Margaret when she was here was the AG South must now arranged days towards the evening, an hour or two before bedtime. Margaret was quite familiar with other patients suffering from anxiety and could certainly be described medication to relieve the symptoms. However, he did not particularly want prescribed standard medication. Lorazepam,, until I had undergone more assessments. As it happened I have used one of these tablets the last two evenings. In both instances the agitation becoming energy seem to have manifested itself around 6.30 an eternity in the relieved this symptom before going to bed,

In any event, the hospice’s OT (occupational therapist), Mara, is on the case, to pick up on the anxiety issue, which Doctor Margaret believes maybe resolved without medication and the problem with the commode, which is described as nausea in this blog. We have already received a letter from Mara and arranged an appointment for next Tuesday. Mara has apparently already spoken to Avana – the private OT, introduced on the scene two or three weeks ago, I Harriet, the head of Ross nursing, who promised the earth but in the end she became tangled in the red tape and was unable to make progress. However, I have much more confidence in Mara, as the hospice carries more weight, certainly, than a private OT.

We had an unexpected visit from Harriet, last evening, as I was being put to bed. Apparently Sally’s problem with the new hoist had come to Harriet year and so she turned up to watch Sally, and as a result, apparently, decided that some more training is necessary. I have already agreed with Craig, my key worker carer, also myself to assist in this training.

Griggsy and wife, Jill, dropped in, around 11.00, for coffee. Their visit was constrained by the arrival of the 12 O’clock carer but it was nice to see them. Tony has been off regular golf now some months due to his medical condition (the name of which I cannot recall) but seeing him today he appears to be his old self. All of my visitors seem to feel they must bring some sort of gift. As a result I feel rather like a hermit sitting cross-legged in some remote cave in Burma or Tibet. Jill’s offering to the gods was a delicious lemon cake which she had specially baked this morning.

Paul’ the computer’ is on duty at 1.30 until 4.00 so we were be able to get some more work done on the laptop. Still no zoom camera for the Camera Mouse so who are unable to progress that particular development. While Paul was here I was alerted, by one of my readers, that my site was ‘down’ in other words, hackers and being into it. When we contacted Richard (Morris) he was already on the case changing the codification. In acknowledging with thanks Richard’s work in getting the site up and running again. I have asked them if there is no way we can permanently change the codification to prevent this happening in the future. Otherwise it seems at least once a week job, which can take some hours and it must be very trying for Richard. However, he set up the site in the first place, so must be the best person to try to resolve this irritating intervention by others.

I had noticed an increase in the number of sites wishing to ‘register’ with my site; on average two or three a day. Apparently these scam artists latch onto popular sites so that when people are trying to access my blog site their own product advertising will appear. How to stop it; only Richard knows. So far as my own readers are concerned. If you ever see a site warning you that my site is down DO NOT open this site but mark it as Junk.

Although today is the day of the opening ceremony for the Olympic Games as they do not start until 9.00p.m. and lasts until midnight – presumably because the ceremony relies on it being dark – as my bedtime is 8.30, I shall just have to hope that I can pick it up ‘on demand’ tomorrow.

26 July 2012

What are the burning issues of the day, just 24 hours or so before the grand opening ceremony for the 2012 Olympic Games, held in London?

The first raspberry is awarded to the official, within the Olympic development team, responsible for the flags of all competing nations, who managed to show the northern Korean flag instead of the southern one (or vice versa, the boo boo is just as bad).’.

‘My lovely’ wishes to join her voice to the millions who are clamouring to get the price of milk increased so that a farmer can at least make a decent profit. It is totally ridiculous that milk should be sold for less than a bottle of mineral water and she supports farmers in their fight for a modest increase to make it worthwhile to continue to produce this basic food.

There is talk about loosening checks at airports to speed up the immigration control, at least, this is what ‘my lovely’ tells me, which I suppose, she read in some newspaper or other.

Of course, she is right to point out that these terrorists will stop at nothing not even setting up a child as a suicide bomber. This has become even more topical following the 10-year-old who managed to board a flight from the USA to Rome going through all the so-called security checks unchallenged. The last check, surely, that should be been carried out, is a physical head count of the seated passengers. As the airline concerned failed to do this simple check the additional passenger was not discovered. (Having flown thousands of miles and sat through the safety routine prior to takeoff-which usually includes a passenger head count -knowing the number of seats available for passengers,. why not simply count the empty seats. then and take this from the known total. Surely this would be a lot easier than the present system which sometimes takes different stewards three or four attempts before they can agree the number of seated passengers.

Then there is the biggest worry of all, the state of the economy. Today. our Chancellor of the Exchequer, informed Parliament that our GDP for the last quarter, was – 0 .078% . In other words , higher negative growth then was forecast. This, the Chancellor explained was the result of the appalling financial mess left by the Labour Party coupled with the uncertainty within the Eurozone, which has already bailed out Greece and Spain but which, in this latter case, appears not to have been sufficient to rescue the Spanish economy, which is leaving an air of uncertainty over the whole Eurozone. I fear that we have not heard the end of this particular problem and the financial markets are beginning to reflect it. For examples the FTSE index fell 2%, in one day, on this pronouncement from the Chancellor. This, despite what my stockbroker had been telling me, that most of the problems within the Eurozone were already factored into the market, which I took to mean that bad news and already being anticipated and should not have caused a dramatic drop in the FTSE index. It seems that I was misled!

25 July 2012

The third of a run of fine summer’s days. The irony is that having waited all winter for a day warm enough for me to get out into the garden, it is now too hot (28°C/29°C). I find that after half an hour or so and in the garden in that heat, that I am beginning to gasp for air. That and the problem of having to arrange carers to hoist me out of my wheelchair into my study chair (unless, I was prepared to spend some hours in the wheelchair, which I’m not) means, that even on these beautiful sunny days, I stay in my study. What a change to all those years that I took advantage of being in the sun in Australia, Cyprus, China, Thailand and Dubai (all of these every year for around 10 years) and then going back in time to Aden, (Southern Republic of the Yemen, previously a British Protectorate) I would happily sleep in the afternoon sun at around 100°C rather than in my air-conditioned bedroom.

Anyone who reads right through this blog will see from time to time visits naturist beaches, in various parts of the world or less romantically, working behind a hiigh windshield in my garden , completely starkers. The point being that all of the last 50 odd years I have used every opportunity to swim naked in the sea or to be where the sun warms every part of my body giving me the feeling of complete freedom. There are naturist’s, like myself, who, who will understand, whereas those more cautious souls who might think the whole thing was disgusting, have, to my mind, missed out on one of the most enjoyable state of being one with nature. Thank heavens, Skype had not taken off in those days!

However, finding myself a prisoner inside the house, rather than in our beautiful garden,
‘my lovely’, using her normal ingenuity, has swept away the pile of books that ran all along the study window sill, which has meant an increase in daylight into this room as well as allowing the opportunity of opening the windows to let in fresh air.

A totally uneventful day, with no visitors. So, I was able to complete my blog and dealing with my e-mails in record time, which meant I was able to lie back and listen to some beautiful music before resuming reading my current book.

.My stock of media from which I draw to amuse my readers is getting very low. So, if any reader has something amusing or beautiful they would like to share with the rest of us please feel free to send it to me. Just click on the icon at the beginning of this entry, and you will be offered a comment box. Take it from there. In the meantime, click here, for something every retiree should do once!

24 July 2012

What a day of comings and goings!. After the two morning carers had left and I had got stuck into my blog then a friend of Alice’s, from early childhood in Wales, Mark York, dropped in (invited!) for lunch. Then, shortly after, the midday carer arrive. At three o’clock, Richard Walker, the area manager for the company, who provide the Roho cushions called to inspect my cushion. He agreed that it had deflated somewhat, which it should not do, and guessed that there was either a slow puncture or a faulty valve.

These cushions might seem extortionately expensive (£695), apart from the blessing of a comfortable seat all day, the service provided by the company, certainly in my experience, is excellent. Richard arrived, as I say only one day after calling the head office and decided that the cushion needed to go back to the works to be tested. So I should not have two or three uncomfortable weeks, on a basic sponge cushion, Richard, very kindly set up a brand-new Roho cushion, he had in his car, which was almost identical to mine, and left it until my was returned. When I say set up, he inflated it roughly 2 the pressure he felt was right, then having arranged it with the Ross Nursing office, Christine, one of my regular carers, dropped everything and came to assist in hoisting me up and down on the temporary cushion, which was adjusted by Richard, to account for the precise areas on which my seat was exerting pressure. That’s service for you.

Whilst all this was going on. Jane ‘the sheep’ came with her partner John, to remove all but three of her rare breed to take them back home and have them sheared. Then, to cap it all, there were various telephone calls chasing people who had promised to provide various things- a new alarm system for the reclining chair that I could just flail at rather than pressing a small; button a new reclining chair which was more versatile than my present one; to let Neil know that one of the alarms on the bed wasn’t working and the perennial problem of a new functioning commode that we could get through the wet room door. All petty matters in themselves but with one thing and another, it turned into a fairly exhausting day. One thing I was particularly pleased to discover was that the Roho people make special cushions for commodes. I imagine that they are quite expensive but if the commode that is eventually produced, in satisfactory in every other way, it will be worth investing in one of these cushions,

That’s all about my small world. In the larger real-world two things are now occupying the media. The first, is the Olympic Games. The opening ceremony is in a couple of days time, the culmination of seven years work, so we, together with millions of other people around the world, will be glued to our television sets for the next couple of weeks, watching the various events. The other problem, about which I have written on a number of occasions, concerns the parlous financial state of the Eurozone, Spain, which is the fourth largest member financially has slipped down the ratings, so much so that were other countries, who are in trouble can borrow money at 7%-which is just sustainable- while Spain. apparently is forced to pay 7.6%, which means that it would be permanently in debt. As a result the business of Greece, leaving the Eurozone has cropped up again, as has Germany’s objection to having to bail out the weaker countries. Sooner or later the German people will force the government to call a halt on this which may well be the beginning of the end of the Eurozone.

23 July 2012

The first task I had to sort out today was the muddle. I managed to get myself into over the 14-17 July entries to this blog. It is all to do with trying to respect the wishes of my reader, Penny de Quincey, in publishing details of her husband’s last days, an immensely personal but frank comment that deserved more exposure than a mere comment attached to an entry. It was for this reason I had to revise the editorial of those 4 entries and then found that they were out of date order, so I sent an SOS to the blog administrator, Richard Morris, who, as usual, responded virtually straightaway and sorted out the mess for me. Thanks Richard, as always, I am eternally grateful when you stepping to rescue me from some nonsense or other I have got myself into in this blog.

I had also left a message on ‘Paul the computer’s’ cellphone and Paul dropped in, late afternoon, after a very busy day in his Works and did some final fine tuning on the recently corrected entries.

I don’t care how often I thank my lucky stars for having such good friends as Richard and Paul, who, when my weakened state makes mountains out of molehills, calm me down and smooth my way -better than any medication.

Three quarters of an hour before my midday carer was due we were visited by Doctor Margaret Saunders (head of the Arthur Rank Hospice in Cambridge).. Regular readers will know about Margaret and her role as one of my key advisers on palliative care. We had little enough time to discuss my present concerns. but in terms of priority, one was to source a comfortable male commode, which would fit into the shower room and secondly, assuming we cannot get the Roho cushion to work properly, then produce for me a slightly more comfortable cushion, then the Roho one which I think must have slow puncture. Margaret knows that we have been battling to get a decent commode, over the past two or three months, which is quite ridiculous. Recognising the difference between male and female someone must’ve designed a suitable male version which is all we want, it was not really asking too much. As to the Roho cushion – about which I have written much in previous entries – I just need Richard, the local representative, to check it out for me. The point is that the last two or three hours of each day, sitting on two bones (as my backside seems to have disappeared) is very uncomfortable and puts me into a miserable state. Margaret has always said that there is no need for any of her patients to be uncomfortable, or in pain, so she will research the cushion situation and revert. She has also undertaken to review my medication in the light of the agitation from which I am beginning to suffer. We have Lorazepam -medication to calm down anxious patients. Margaret is quite happy for us to use this medication ad hoc but not as part of my daily input. As a result of our conversation today, Margaret will review my situation and arrange a further consultation.

I have been advised, for sometime now, by the doctors at Papworth, to have a rest in the afternoon, for half an hour to an hour, using the respirator, which should have the effect of calming down any anxiety and preserving my energy. I tried this this afternoon, whilst ‘my lovely’ was out and Jane ‘the sheep’ was babysitting me, Jane competently dealt with the respirator and I must admit, after an hour so, when I returned to my laptop, I did feel stronger and more able to face up to the work I had to do.

Talking of feeling impotent. Click here and imagine yourself having the task of felling these massive trees and then cutting them into reasonable handling lengths, all without the help of a chainsaw!

22 July 2012

When I woke up this morning the nausea had passed, thank heavens, and I was able to resume eating normally. Dear Chloe was of enormous help in assisting me to print up to date the hardcopy of this blog before she left mid-afternoon.

There was a certainly a surfeit of sport on the television, apart from the Grand Prix, there was a test match against the West Indies and The Open golf tournament at Royal Lytham St. Annes, near Blackpool, an incredible golf course sandwiched between intensive urban development, but certainly one of the finest links courses in the world.

So far as the test match against the West Indies is concerned, the least said, the better, from the English point of view. At the end of play today the West Indies having scored 600 odd before England. lost this first of the series of five test match by an innings and 12 runs. A miserable performance by the world champions.

The Open golf tournament was another thing. Absolutely compulsive viewing. The home Australian, Scott Adams, led the field with a handsome cushion of four shots right up to the last four holes, which he managed to bogey (last shot on each hole) which allowed the old master Ernie Ells to snatch the title by virtue of Scott missing a 20 foot putt on the last hole.

Over the last three or four days I have quoted verbatim from the special supplement brought out by The Times for the 1948 Olympics. So soon after the end of the Second World War it was a miracle of organisation, but what a contrast to today’s highly organised and immensely expensive events. To complete the comparison with today’s Olympics. I shall, in keeping with my earlier efforts, quote freely from the editorial of that 1948 Times supplement.

The editorial, in this instance was written by Bob Stanley. The supplement, in keeping with all of the others, was mainly photographs, which spoke for themselves, but the journalist decided to draw attention to what was known as the Austerity Games, which used any existing building that was capable of hosting an event.

‘ For example the 1924 British Empire Exhibition, which is only still standing because it was (at the time) the world’s largest reinforced concrete building, which would have cost a fortune to demolish. The swimming events took place in the Empire Pool Built for the 1934 Games which had its name changed to Wembley Arena in 1978. It was used for all aquatic events in 1948, as well as boxing. In those days this was the the largest pool in the world. The architect brief for it was to design a flexible building which could be used for ice skating, ice hockey, and music events too. Darts and snooker have been regulars at the Arena in recent years, though it is mostly used as a music venue The 2012 basketball events will be in a temporary stadium. There was a plan to ship it to Rio for the 2016 games, although this is currently on hold. In 1948 basketball was based at the Harringay Arena, adjacent to the Harringay Stadium dog track and had its own railway station. The 1948 venue wasn’t that much more permanent than the 2012 version-built in1936, it closed in 1958.

In 1948 this multipurpose venue also hosted boxing, the Moscow State Circus, and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. The Arena and the Greyhound Stadium have both gone, replaced by the Arena shopping centre. The photographs in this supplement showed that football was as unpopular an Olympic event in 1948, as it has proved to be this year.

Still, surviving is the Herne Hill velodrome which was founded…. In 1891. Until the new Velopark opened last year, it was London’s only velodrome.

Bomb damage had caused Herne Hill to close in 1942 and by 1948 it was heavily overgrown. Cleaned up, in time for the Olympics, it wasn’t given much of a fanfare. “What a strange nation, we British are! The greatest cycling festival of this century might well have been an ordinary track promotion.” moaned Cyclist magazine. It’s good to know that Britain was already the Olympic champion at tutting and complaining 64 years ago.

Well there you. A fascinating insight into the Austerity Games. I think Bob Stanley, the author of most of the italicised comments about is a little hard to focus on those few people who, in common with the rest of the population, had just emerged from the nightmare of the second world war. For every one tut all complain. there were probably happen and recorded comments of support.

These Games
, which were miraculously mounted three years after the end of the Second World War at a cost, I suspect, of no more than 1% or 2% of the cost of coming Games, the last estimate, of which I saw, was £9.3 billion. These Games, were, in respect, a make do and mend affair. Even the participants themselves had to sew on their own badges and, no doubt, another 101 things to which today’s athletes would certainly object. Having said that, although I was almost 14 at the time, and have no recollection of the event, but I suspect that the true spirit of these Olympic Games was as strong then-if not stronger-than it is today.

21 July 2012

Another dramatic incident. Last night I woke up in the early hours and reached out from my alarm-there was nothing there- and after working my arm free, which seemed to take forever, although flailing around in the world did not make contact with the alarm button. I therefore relied on my voice yelling for the carer and under the respirator. This is not terribly loud. I suppose it was the best part of yelling and thrashing around that I eventually had the welcome voice of the carer. She said that the alarm button is had not been set in the right place and I can only have her word for it. Nevertheless, it is the same old problem; panic at being totally immobilised and with no one listening to come and release you.

Well, the weather was perfect. Miles and Kimberly arrived about on1.00 for lunch, which we took in the garden. Unfortunately, I was feeling nauseous again and could eat nothing, however, I took advantage to get out into the fresh air, but although there have been very few days so far this year when I can venture out, I found that I had had quite enough after a couple of hours. Fortunately, one of my carers, Craig, said he would be passing by at around 2.00 pm. and would happily hoist me from the wheelchair to get me into the study . Otherwise I would have to sit in my wheelchair into the six o’clock carer came and this is too long. even in that reasonably comfortable wheelchair. Miles and Kimberly left after tea and then shortly afterwards. Chloe arrived , around 5.00 p.m. to spend the night with us. She just overlapped with Miles and Kimberly, which was fortunate as their busy lives , prevented them from seeing as much of each other as they would like.

20 July 2012

Here we are with seven days to go until the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olympic Games and the saboteurs are at work! There is a threat of a strike from some civil servants workers. I am not quite sure which branch, but something to do with immigration which will certainly disrupt the flow of people in and out of the country. The second problem seems to be over security. The company, who won this £57 million contract, heaven knows how many years ago, have suddenly announced that they are 3500 personnel short. So it now looks as though we are going to have to rely on supplementing the security staff by our police and armed services. What a shambles, it must be Lord Coe’s greatest nightmare as, in these troubled times, security has to be very much near the top of the priority list. Finally, we have the farmers who are striking over the cost of a pint of milk, which, as they point out, is cheaper than mineral water. In this case, in common with millions of others, we are sympathetic. It is only due to the greed of the supermarket chains, selling milk as a loss leader, that these farmers are forced to take action in an attempt to save our dairy business.

I had another of my nausea bouts around 6.30. When it came in my supper, which was very light, the quantity of which was scarcely sufficient to satisfy the local stray cat, I just couldn’t face it. I ate two small spoons of some delicious prawn concoction and then called it a day. The problem is I’m scarcely eating enough to stay alive. This is one of a number of issues we will take up with Doctor Margaret Saunders, from the Arthur Rank Hospice, in Cambridge, when she comes to speak to us next Monday

Continuing the commentary on the 1948 Olympics, today I quote from the third of The Times special supplement at the time, now reproduced. These supplements very largely comprise, contemporary photographs which prove the old saying’ a picture is worth 1000 words’. However, this time the comments on these photographs, from which I freely quote, are written by Matthew Syed. He says:

‘ Modern sport is predicated upon the concept of marginal gains, the idea that a competitor attempts to squeeze a small but measurable advantage in everything from psychology to diet and from accommodation to transport. The premise is that if you control every variable, however trivial, the cumulative effect maybe decisive.

The photographs reveal not merely a different sporting age, but the different sporting philosophy. We see athletes mingling with fans, and handing out autographs. We see a sportsman in his lodgings swatting up on university work will. We see one athlete having a blister attended to by a bespectacled Doctor. It evokes a gentler and altogether more temperate sporting ethos.

There was no Olympic village…. So athletes stay in RAF camps. They also put up in schools and… Colleges.

Sports science is not absent from the 1948 games. Masseurs…. work on the quads of athletes and there is also what looks like a cooling machine. But the intrusion of technology is nothing like in the modern Olympics…. where Psychologists, physiologists and data specialists will be roaming alongside the athletes in Stratford this month.

….. Professionalism transformed the moral basis of sport…. Winning was, of course a cherished objective, but it was not the be all and end all. Competitors might cite a gold medal at the top of their ambitions. But with value the joys of meeting other competitors and learning about their cultures. These cultural differences were particularly visible when it came to clothing…. a consequence of the contractual obligations laid down by sponsors… It is noticeable by its absence. Many athletes wear tracksuits to chill out, but many others are decked out in national dress.

The athletes village was first introduced into the Olympics… in 1932. In the London Games athletes stay in multiple locations, each requiring its own transport to the venues. Many travel to events by Tube. No modern Games will be complete without a purpose-built village. It is an integral part of the Games, not only for reasons of security and logistics but as the location for the world’s biggest party. Once the rigours of competition are out of the way, and months of monastic abstinence can be put to one side, sports people have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to cut loose. When there are 10,000 young, virile athletes with the same mindset… the cocktail is explosive. More than 150,000 condoms will be handed out at the village in London but one imagines that even this would be insufficient to cater for demand…. Fraternising was doubtless part of the Games of 1948 too, although rather more hidden. But it is probably fair to say that, both in terms of sport and sex, the modern Games has taken performance to new, and sometimes breathtaking, extremes.’

Today we were blessed with a beautiful sunny, but mild, summers day, so welcome after the drab chilly excuses we have had for summer weather so far this year. I did not manage to get out into the garden today, but as Miles and Kimberly come down to lunch tomorrow, I hope that the weather is good enough for us all lunch in the garden.

For a little light relief, click here to see what some consider to be the worst age.