29 June 2012

An early call first thing to my stepfather, Richard wishing him a very happy birthday. Paul Richard hasn’t really got to grips with the video call on Skype, so after two or three attempts we settled for the good old-fashioned telephone! Anyway, good health, happiness and a long life to Richard. He is a star, caring for my 95 year-old mother, who we hope will twinkle for a few years yet.

As important piece of international news. The EU leaders have agreed to use the Eurozone bailout fund to directly support struggling banks. An apparent concession by Germany to Spain and Italy. This decision inevitably raises the question of finding a solution to the economic and financial problems in the Eurozone. I paraphrase from Laurence Knight’s excellent summary-Eurozone’s long reform wish list-in the BBC business news on the Internet. I thoroughly recommend those of you who are interested to read the whole article for yourself. However, the following, summarises the position simply for those of us who are not economists and cannot fully understand the dilemma facing the European leaders.

Knight says that the answer is easy and suggests comparing it with the large, and much better functioning, single currency areas in the United States. Europe’s real problem, is that almost all of the solutions are far from politically palatable.

‘The Eurozone’s root problem is that the southern European economies have become fundamentally uncompetitive – wages rose too quickly during the boom years, which led them to import a lot more than they exported and borrow the difference.

The southern economies excessive debts, persistent un- competitiveness and resulting need to continue borrowing – along with Germany’s reluctance to give them money – is what has driven the financial panic that has made it much harder for southern European governments and banks to borrow from the markets.

What’s more the seizing up of European financial markets – not to mention the collective determination of Europe’s governments to cut spending, and the European Central Banks focus on price stability – is threatening to push the entire continent into a long and deep recession, something that would merely compound the debt problems.

So, if the Eurozone were to look at the US model for inspiration in its hour of need, what sort of changes – economic, financial and, ultimately, political-might need to be considered.?’

The article then goes on to suggest what these changes might need to be but I have only chosen to set out the problem rather than suggested solutions, so those of us who are inevitably bound in to the outcome of this problem have a better understanding of what it is.

I will just give one more quote from Laurence Knight’s article where he says,’ in the long run, a US style federal budget may be needed to cover the cost of recessions, so that individual governments don’t risk going bust when there national economies get into trouble.’

Paul ‘the computer’ came to babysit for three hours after lunch, so Alice could get out and go about business, shopping, going to the bank etc. Paul is very good, having been told by ‘her in-doors’ that he was not to over stress me by letting me talk too much, he was content to sit working on my other laptop whilst I enjoyed watching the one-day cricket match against Australia, which I had desperately wanted to go to myself. England had a great start to this series winning his first ODI (one-day international), over the five, by 15 runs Eoin Morgan was the man of the match with a splendid knock of 89 not out. It was a perfect day at Lord’s after one late morning shower and I could not help envying all my old pals sitting in our own special spot which we have occupied now for over 30 years.

28 June 2012

Sadly, I had no choice today, but to cancel my trip to Lord’s tomorrow for the one-day match against Australia. After the episode following the trip to the golf club on Tuesday it is quite clear that I am considerably weakened and dare not risk being taken ill in London and rushed into some hospital or other. This decision also casts a doubt across the trip I have arranged for 18 August, my 78th birthday. I have invited three or four guests. Of course, I can wait a little while before making a final decision. It might be, for example, that I could take a medical carer with me -I wonder if the good Doctor Michael will be over here and he could take me. That would be perfect- this, together with St John Ambulance, being in attendance at Lord’s, in fact, almost adjacent to where we sit, it might be possible to arrange something. Even if it is only half a day.

Today, I received a copy of the report following my last visit to Papworth hospital. It gave a certain amount medical information which meant nothing to me but did conclude by saying there had been a gradual deterioration in symptoms over the preceding weeks , but there was no evidence of hyperventilation on the overnight study. As a result, no changes are necessary to the settings on my ventilator and I will be reviewed in six weeks time.

Jane and Kit, Orde-Powlette came to coffee this morning. As usual there were invited for 11.00 in the full knowledge that the carers come in at midday and that way I would not be able to talk to a point where my breathing became distressed. I’m sure that Jane and Kit are sensitive to the situation, in any event, and fully understand why we must keep such visits to a short period of time. This is particularly so when the sky is overcast and the air very humid making breathing that much more difficult, as it is today. In fact, our pilot country was the warmest, at around 28°C but was extremely humid and I spent the whole day breathing rapidly, which is a little distressing, wondering whether I shouldn’t relieve this ghastly by utilising the respirator in my study. In the end I stuck it out but it was touch and go.

My famous Roho cushion suddenly became extremely lumpy and uncomfortable. Fortunately, Craig, from Ross nursing, came in for a session last evening and he looked at it and discovered that somebody had opened the valve and all the air had been let out of it. I’m sure that this was not done intentionally and Craig was able to pump it up again so that my comfort was restored.

I had a lovely long newsy e-mail from my darling daughter Chloe, who was travelling back to London from some conference or other up north! She was apologising for not coming down this forthcoming weekend but went on to catalogue the things that she was tied up in. She is an amazing girl and somehow juggles her three-day week job as a consultant clinical psychologist at the Maudsley Hospital with running a home and, in particular, managing the very hectic social life of her three young children. She gave such a lovely description of the social life of the middle one I hope she will forgive me for repeating it. No doubt it will strike a chord with those mothers amongst my readers who have, or had, small children.

… seems to have grown up several years over night recently.  Now that secondary school is in sight he is suddenly all about pop music and mobile phones and he is even noticing who the pretty girls in his class are for the first time!  He schedule is:

– Sports Day on Wednesday

– friends’ banana bike party in Dulwich park on Saturday

– Leavers’ Swimming Party on Sunday (when their year group take over a public swimming pool with slides and wave machines)

– his summer show at beginning of July

– Leaver’s Disco

– Prize Giving

No wonder he came to me last night saying he couldn’t get to sleep because he was thinking about all the exciting things he has coming up!

 Althea ‘ the podiatrist’ came today to do my finger nails – long overdue. With visitors both morning and a afternoon I cannot little you can do it there are asking for you if you want the critical I heard only there fternoon I cannot pretend it was a peaceful day.

However, I did find time to watch a bit of Wimbledon, including our man Andy Murray successfully working hard to get into the next round against the monstrously 6’10” tall Croatian , Karlovic who, at the end of the match, question the integrity of Wimbledon, in view of the number of foot faults which had been called against him.

27 June 2012

My main preoccupation this morning, after I’d finished writing my blog, was centred on the continuing saga of the commode. (See 21st June entry). I know this is pretty basic stuff, but put yourself in my shoes and hopefully you will understand how it assumes such importance. One of my carers from Ross Nursing told me that one of his patients has a male commode which has a larger hole then the one I have, and is therefore specifically designed to accommodate the male anatomy. The same carer very kindly copied down all the information from this commode; who supplied it; what was the model number etc. Armed with this information, having been told quite clearly by my own OT that the only commode that the NHS provided was the one we have already, I had to decide to whom I would make my complaint in order to get a suitable commode in the near future. In the end I decided that the best person to sort this out for me was Harriet, the head of Ross Nursing. She is a no-nonsense person and will know who to go to to get this sorted out quickly. I made a call to the Ross Nursing office and Harriet was around here like a shot and then disappeared with the information, undertaking to sort it out

Quite apart from the drawbacks. I discussed in my earlier entry, each time this commode is used, the insertion and retraction of the bucket bashes my scrotum, which in itself is unpleasant, but I am fearful that it will cause some change in the pump of the artificial urinary sphincter which is located in the scrotum. If that went wrong, as a result of being constantly hit by this bucket, it would change our lives for the worst as I might then have to revert to catheters and leg bags. I will say no more about that at this stage, but having had nine months of this following my radical prostatectomy, I certainly do not want this added complication to our lives.

This evening was a repeat of yesterday evening after my day at the golf club. My eyes and nose started streaming late afternoon and I began to feel unwell. About the time I was due to have my supper. I felt nauseous and could not face it. That’s two days running where my calorie intake has probably be less than 1000; scarce enough to keep one alive. We may have to ask Doctor West if she could be good enough to call in and see if we can get to the bottom of this present problem. Fortunately , once I was in in bed. I’ve fell asleep very quickly, as I usually do, and when I woke up in the morning. I no longer felt sick.

I had a very nice telephone call from an Australian arbitrator asking my permission to use some of the material from my book Arbitration Practice and Procedure, Interlocutory and Hearing Problems in some lectures the was preparing. He was very laudatory about this book and how much he relied on it in his own arbitrations. All very good for the ego. It was good of him to ask permission to reproduce these examples. Most people, throughout the world, just copy and use them without seeking my consent. However, if they are recognised teaching bodies such as universities and colleges then they declare this to the ACI S which connects a few pounds each time this occurs and sends me a small cheque every year.

It is my intention to assign this money plus the royalties all of my books to some sort of educational fund for my grandchildren.

I had a visit today from a speech therapist, Tom, who was not the one dedicated to me through my MND assessment team at Addenbrookes, but somehow had been asked to call and check up on me. I pointed out to him how very important it was that I was able to continue to use my voice activation for my blog; e-mails etc we discussed all the different ways that one could communicate with the computer even down to word or letter recognition by means other than speech. I was aware that these existed, as most people know Professor Hawkins is only able to communicate by eye movement. There are a number of systems using a mouse grid where one could build up some text letter by letter but frankly that would drive me crazy. There is no doubt that my voice has grown a lot weaker and more gravelly lately but thank goodness Dragon still recognises 98% of it. It is that in combination with my splinted finger that enables me to continue to communicate when one or other of those packs up I suppose it will be the end of this blog. It was my intention, when I started this blog, that it would follow me to the end. I had not even considered the possibility of being unable to communicate that long, so this may become a new challenge I have to overcome. September will mark the fifth year when the symptoms of MND first appeared. Beyond that I go into the category of the very few who survived longer than five years. So be it we can only take one day at a time.

Tom also dealt with problems which occur when swallowing becomes difficult, the different forms of food preparation and so on until the patient ends up eating something like baby food. Thank heavens we are not at that stage yet. When we are, that will be yet another cross to bear.

After this incredibly boring entry I have reproduced a rather amusing piece of writing by that well-known comic actor, John Cleese. Click here and enjoy a few amusing moments.

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26 June 2012

At last a dry and reasonably warm summer’s day falling on Tuesday. Alice was adamant that I should not go to the golf club for lunch without my respirator. I was convinced, however, on the other hand, that it was totally unnecessary but went along for the sake of harmony. I had originally thought that I could get one of the boys to slap on the mask if any reason it became necessary but Alice was not at all happy about this arrangement, and insisted that I would have to have a carer with me. I was against taking a stranger to the club as he would feel out of it so far as general conversation sitting outside before lunch and also during lunch. I suspect there were around two telephone calls to my pals about this, to which I was not privy. Alice was, of course right, (isn’t she always!). It would be totally unfair burden my friends to fit the respirator, in case of emergency, thus making them virtually responsible for any accident. Fortunately, this did not arise as my dear son, Smiler volunteered to come down the night before and to accompany me to the golf club.

This is then is what happened. Ollie’s Wheelchair Friendly Taxi Service picked us up at 9.45 and we arrived at the club and I later, when we could expect the first local foursomes to have completed nine holes and be back at the clubhouse. We were fortunate that my good friend John Gray was in the first batch so we latched onto them following them around until midday when Smiler and I headed back to the clubhouse together for a drink and to set up my smoking stick, so then by the time John’s foursome had played the last couple of holes we were well set up and ready to go into lunch when called.

Of course, I knew just about everyone playing there, most of whom came up say hello and I was able to introduce them to Smiler. I must say, he managed extremely well and when called into lunch we sat at the end of our usual table with Smiler on my left to feed me in between eating his own lunch. Being only one course – sausage and mash with some squash and cabbage – we were soon back outside sitting in the sunshine, enjoying finishing my cigar. After another 15 min or so of fresh air and sunshine. I felt I was ready to go home.

Smiler found Ollie and his ambulance, who were in the back car park, and we were soon on away home. I felt it had been a great success, considering I had only been to the club, once earlier this year.

It was really great to see so many of my old pals again but disappointed that Griggsy was not there. Apparently he has been having medical problems of his own which prevented him from joining us. I shall ring him tomorrow to catch up and see how he is.

I was a little tired but nonetheless no worse for the outing, or at least so I thought. When Paula, number one, was here preparing me for bed. I suddenly felt sick. I wretched over a bowl several times but did not actually vomit. In this rather fragile position I forewent my supper and was quite pleased to get to bed of a couple of hours later. It had been a lovely day and I was grateful to Smiler for sacrificing a day in his busy schedule. Hopefully we will certainly repeat the outing but if, as’ my lovely’ is convinced, the effort of the whole thing was too much for me and thus my bout of sickness then I will have to ration these Tuesdays, as much as anything to suit Smiler’s work schedule.

This leads me with a quandary, weather permitting I had every intention of going to see Australia at Lord’s, this coming Saturday, in the one-day match against England. Fortunately I do not have any guests of my own on that day, so I can leave it to the last minute to decide. My regular pals can, in any case, book into the wheelchair enclosure. If Alice is right, and the trip to the golf club had knocked me flat then a whole day at Lord’s, with an hour and a halves journey by ambulance each way, would obviously be more taxing. But then if I do not go does that mean the end of my cricketing days? What about my 78th birthday on 18 August, where I have three or four guests and we were going to have a bit of a celebration, where does that leave that engagement? While I was sitting outside the club well of my pals, Carl Creasey, came up to me and said keep second September free as he and his wife were celebrating their golden wedding anniversary. Of course, I sent I would be delighted to come provided I miss up to it. I wondered afterwards whether I would even make it to September let alone being able to join in a golden wedding celebration.

OnceOnce I was settled in my study chair I was able to deal with one or two outstanding matters. The main one was to telephone the Inland Revenue once again to request a blank tax form. The length of time I spent on this call was slightly less than the one yesterday, where it took 30 min and cost £2 and I abandoned it without getting through. This time I did eventually get through and the good lady, at the other end, promised to send me the Tax Return form ASAP.

I received a very nice e-mail from Doctor Margaret Saunders, from the Arthur Rank Hospice, Cambridge. I had previously explained to her that I seem to get on a lot better with Doctor West then my own Doctor Lort but did not know how to switch without giving offence to Doctor Lort who ostensibly I had been under for a number of years. Margaret wrote to say that she knew both doctors very well and that when she returned from her holiday, she would deal with the issue. Margaret is very diplomatic and I have every confidence she will achieve the switch with the least offence to Doctor Lort, who I have, no doubt, is a first-class Doctor, but one that I found less simpatico than Doctor West.

25 June 2012

The news came through late last night that the Muslim candidate for president of Egypt, Mohammed Murmi had narrowly beaten the incumbent Christian, Mubarak. Is this apocalyptic news that will change the balance in the Middle East? Although this president has resigned from the Black Muslim Brotherhood can we take it that this means he will not attempt to turn Egypt into an Islamic state?. For many years, Egypt, with substantial financial assistance from America, has formed a buffer between the Christians and the Islamic states around it. What will be the effect on the Eurozone, if that buffer is removed and Egypt does turn into an Islamic state? The consequences for Europe could be catastrophic. The next few weeks will tell us which way this country is going under new leadership but one can only hope that the resignation of the president from the Black Muslim brotherhood is an indication that he will support the status quo rather than trying to impose an Islamic government.

With a little help from me my faithful secretary Doreen managed to produce a Profit and Loss account which forms the basis of my tax return. Having done this, I then realised that I had not received the usual brown envelope from the Inland Revenue, containing the blank return, so I gave them a ring. I got an answerphone informing me that the Inland Revenue were taking a possible industrial action’, apparently something to do with the proposed changes in their pension Now if there is one thing that really gets me going it is the public sector striking against the governments attempt to bring them into line with the private sector, a) as the amount they contribute towards their pension and b) the age at which they are entitled to retire. For years the public sector have enjoyed a better deal on pensions than the private sector; contributing less and being allowed to retire on full pension, I believe, at 60, whereas the private sector is heading towards 68.

So when I rang the Inland Revenue this morning in an attempt to get a copy of this year’s return I got the computer message that they were taking industrial action, you imagine I was none too pleased. However, I did hang on for just on half an hour, at a cost of £2, to be told before I gave it up as a bad job stop I will try again tomorrow. The automated response informed callers that the Inland Revenue were taking industrial action, as I understand it against proposed changes in their pension. Similarly, a day or so ago, our GP’s (General Practitioners) were also on strike over proposed changes to their pension. During one of the BBC news programmes. We were told that the average doctor earning £120,000 per annum could retire at 60 (?) on a annual pension of £48,000 a year (for the numerically challenged reader that’s almost £1000 a week) plus a lump sum of £140,000. I am told that many GPs can earn twice as much as that with presumably twice as much pension and twice as much lump sum but I will need to check that. In any event, bearing in mind the basic GPs pension entitlements, you wouldn’t think they had the nerve to go on strike Why you think it is virtually impossible to get a doctor to see you in the evenings or weekends unless it is a locum, flown in from Europe who may or may not speak our language? Quite clearly it does not pay them to work and sociable hours.

As I understand it, and I could be wrong all that these doctors are being asked to do was to come into line with the rest of us. It is that changed their pension entitlements that has prompted them to take industrial action. Having said that we are told that less than , 8% of the doctors voted for industrial action and presumably more than 50% of that 8% were in favour of striking. Hardly an overwhelming majority of practising GPs.

It is about time that those public sector workers, who have for many years enjoyed far better pension and retirement benefits than average worker in the private sector, got realistic and realising how precarious is the present financial position – and apart from the fact that they are lucky enough to have a job from which is very difficult to fire them, even for minor misdemeanours and certainly not for incompetence -for at least the next two or three years, we will all have to tighten our belts, pull our weight, and any other similar metaphor, if we are to survive financially as a nation.

After that diatribe, I think something amusing is required, to show my readers that I had not altogether lost my sense of humour. Click here to find out what it is like retiring in Florida.

24 June 2012

The day after the Clavering Fete is traditionally Rose Day.
‘My lovely” has entered various categories for the last three years and on each occasion has been placed in the first three. This year, the weather has been so foul that the roses are not as advanced as they should be and where they have managed to bloom they had been ruined by the wind and rain. However, undeterred Alice has submitted entries in the single bloom and vase of five blooms categories but without much expectation of a prize this year. So you can imagine her surprise and delight when she entered the village Hall, just-in-time to hear her name called out, having won first prize in the vase of five blooms.. I must admit there were rather splendid – deep pink, old-fashioned rose, Madame Isaac Pereiere (Bourbon) As, in the past, we have always tried to give the modest prize money (£5 this year) to Peter’ the gardener’ he has always refused it.

I always thought they held the horticultural show on the same day but apparently this is scheduled for July. I suppose that would be rather late for roses but is ideal for the largest parsnip; the longest carrot or the largest marrow and all the other range of perfect vegetables.

We are now about one month in with our, night carers, Lillian, Wendy and Sylvia. I want to record what a blessing this has turned out to be. There is no doubt that when I am in pain in bed at night it can become excruciating – it was last night – and had we been under the old regime of me hanging on until I could bear it no longer and then sounding the alarm for ‘my lovely”, I really do not think we would have lasted very long. There is one thing in calling a nurse almost every hour to turn you and make you comfortable and another in waking up your wife at the same hourly intervals. She would very soon sicken of this demand on her sleep. However kindly she was this broken sleep pattern could not be maintained indefinitely. The joy of having these three ladies is that it is their job and they rarely do more than two nights consecutively. Therefore the instant I wake up in pain. I had no compunction in using the alarm button. The night carers seem almost please to have something to do. We usually have a little chat whilst I rest on my back before they turn me to lie on my side. Having said that I cannot thank our lucky stars too much when I say that this new arrangement, has certainly changed our lives for the good and we are extremely grateful.

I gave my mother and Richard a Skype call this morning that we were plagued by the old problem. We could either both see each other and not hear or hear with one or other of us being blanked out. I overcame this by using the telephone for voice and Skype for the pictures but that’s not how it is supposed to work. I tried several combinations and couldn’t seem to overcome the problem, so I will have to rope in assistance of someone more experienced in Skyping.

Today is shown in my diary as Midsummer’s Day. The weather forecast is for a temperature of 18°C, and 60% chance of precipitation (rain!)

At the moment I’m much more interested in the forecast for Tuesday as Smiler is standing by to take me to the golf club. At present the forecast is good, partly cloudy, a high of 22°C and only a 30% chance of precipitation, so the way things are at present, it is all systems go, bearing in mind I have only been to the club once this year and already the days are shortening and before we know where we are we will be in autumn.

 

23 June 2012

I forgot to mention yesterday, that I had visitors both morning and afternoon. Barton W-P came for coffee in the morning. Judith is away in London doing her granny bit, I think with daughter Katherine’s little ones. so Barton was on his own.

‘My lovely’ makes a point of joining into these little sojourns to spare my voice, which seems to be getting weaker as time goes by. Then, in the afternoon Paul ‘the computer’ came for three hours, but had strict instructions that I should not talk too much so I dozed while he messed about with my computer. He has now got a zoom lens camera and is just waiting for some other piece of equipment, which should be delivered in the next day or two, before working on the use of the Camera Mouse.

Today the Annual Clavering Fete was held on the Jubilee field. Inevitably the weather forecast is for strong winds with the occasional showers. This event has been so lucky over the years with the weather. You would think planned for late June the odds of getting a decent day should be pretty high, but, in this case, they seem to have struck unluckily. This fete, which attracts people from miles around, has an unhappy record so far as the weather is concerned.

I have written before about this fete and how disappointed we are over the changes which have occurred over the past 50 years. When we first came here. It was very much a genuine village fete. A small affair but one in which most of the village were involved either as stallholders or attendees. Now, a number of the traditional fete competitions have disappeared (Bowling for the Pig, for example, where if you won, it you would be given a small piglet, (not everyone’s ideal prize so there was the, alternative of £15) to be replaced by far less suitable activities stalls selling anything from garden furniture to homemade jewellery Having said that , maybe this year’s fete committee have taken these comments on board and resurrected a more traditional fete. Certainly from the publicity material for this fete, which lists the following activities, one could be excused for thinking that they have.

Scarecrow competition.

Dog show.

Maggott racing.

Feel-the-veg.

Taste the cake.

Coconut shy.

Hoopla.

Football shoot-out.

Stocks and Sponges.

Pound-in-the-bucket.

Crockery smash.

Wine or water?

‘Gin’ the Pig.

Tiger-of-War.

Pimms…. Beers…. Burgers

Raffle.

Bouncy Castle.

Live music…. and much more!

I could, no doubt, I could get to the Jubilee field myself in my electric wheelchair but have serious doubts as to how it would perform on a wet, muddy surface. This being so I think I’ll give the fete a miss this year.

I think I mentioned the other day that the district nurse called in to check me over, following that bad spell I had, asked if I wanted them to call in every day. I assured them that I had an excellent carer in Alice and we had best leave it that I gave them a ring if we had anything we were concerned about. The reason for the visit of the district nurse was to look at my toes on my swollen feet. Apparently two of them looked as though they might break into an open sore and as a result, the district nurse had ordered some special ointment. I shall a ring tomorrow to ask her to call in and start us off on using of the ointment and at the same time look at a rather nasty soreness that seems to have developed in my groin. The trouble with all such minor ailments is that I can no longer see them for myself and have to rely on others to keep an eye out and let me know if anything occurs that may require some attention.

From the mundane to the magnificent. From the small local village fete to finding yourself at the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris and observing the all-round panoramic view. Click here for this wonderful experience.

22 June 2012

Yesterday, I received a telephone call from a company, which I think call itself Love Films. The caller explained that she was making a film for television (Channel 4) on the assisted suicide controversy which has rumbled on in the media over the past two or three years every now and then a patient, with little or no quality of life, applies to the court to be allowed to die but to date they have not succeeded and anyone who assists them in their endeavour could be liable for imprisonment. The lady from Love Films was telephoning ask if I would be prepared to appear in the programme on assisted suicide. I explained that I last exposure to the media had not been a happy one . (See 22 February 2010 and 24 February 2010 entries) and, in any case, my blog was about living and getting the best out of every day, rather than dying.’ My lovely’ was in the room at the time of the call, which is only speakers, signalled to me, in no uncertain terms, that we should have nothing to do with i

My regular readers will recall when this whole issue came in connection up with Sir Terry Pratchett’s visit to Switzerland (see 7 April 2012 entry) when he was considering how best to end his own life before. his Parkinson’s disease reached the point when he could no longer make a rational decision

Sir Terry Pratchett programme was quite well done except and that I felt the brushed over the option to suicide, the hospices, which I am led to believe allows you to die peacefully painlessly and with dignity.

I had put it to the BBC, through the director of the original programme, that they could consider making a sequel to the original programme, based on Sir Terry Pratchett, exploring the hospice alternative. I would have been happy to have considered taking part in that programme as I knew little or nothing about hospices myself. Had I been asked what I understood a hospice to be, I would have said a place where the terminally ill go to die in peaceful surroundin

Doctor Margaret Saunders, a warm kindly lady, of the Arthur Rank Hospice, Cambridge, had assured me that they were more than that and she would be happy for me to come and see for myself. She also said that she would also he interest to learn more about the BBC’s film, if they agreed to make

Reverting then to the speaker phone telephone call, despite ‘my lovely’s’ frantic signalling to the effect that we should have nothing to do with any further publicity, I agreed at least to meet this lady. I asked her if she would be kind enough to telephone my wife direct to make the appointment.

Alice took the call in the hallway off the kitchen but she reported to me afterwards that she had told this lady that we wanted nothing to do with Channel 4, which was a rubbish channel producing such horrors as Big Brother and so far as she was concerned she wanted neither of us have anything to do with it. Nevertheless, she was faithful to my request to make an appointment.

I shall certainly meet with this lady and find out precisely what this programme is about; how it is structured and who else will be appearing in it. Then, and only then, will I decide whether I wish to participate or allow them to quote from my blog, most of which, this lady caller informed me she had read.

To finish today’s entry I have some wonderful one-liners from Frank Carson. Which reminds me that I was told, some long time ago when I started public speaking, that it was not the joke so much as the way you told it that made it funny. Click here and try for yourself one or two of these one-liners when you next have to speak in public, I think that they admirably illustrate this advice.

21 June 2012

For some weeks now Alice and I had been trying to have our commode replaced. Now, in the normal way of things this would not warrant any comment. However, there is an enigma here that needs resolving. The commode with which we were initially supplied doubles up as a shower chair with a reasonably comfortable padded plastic seat. However, it suffers from one fundamental defect, not to put too fine a point on it, the hole is scarcely large enough to cover both points of evacuation!. This being so, we tried using the plastic bottle in conjunction with it, but despite the narrow break in the seat of the front. It was virtually impossible to put the bottle in such a position as to fulfil its function.

Bearing in mind that the male and female anatomy are different and accepting that this was one of those cases where ‘one size fits all’, I specifically asked for a male model. You can imagine my disappointment then, when the new one arrived and was precisely the same as the earlier version, but had a 2 inch plastic frill, all around the under side of the hole, the purpose of which one can only guess as being some sort of insurance that most, or rather hopefully all, the evacuation from the front and the back hit the bucket and did not find its way through the between the padded seat and the receptacle below.

Apart from there being a break in this frill, which coincided with the break in the padded seat at the front, it was potluck as to whether or of the evacuated material found its way into the bucket. Or, put another way I consider this commode was ‘not fit for purpose’. Not being sufficiently familiar with the female anatomy to know whether this padded seat and frill arrangement would do its job, I can only comment on the shortcomings for male patients. One such shortcoming was that when the bucket was inserted or removed it struck the scrotum, which was not very pleasant.

In my case, I am also fearful that any contact with the right hand side of my scrotum, which accommodates my artificial urinary sphincter could knock the valve, which at present seems to be jammed, half open or half shut, the consequences of which would mean reverting to a catheter and leg bag heaven forbid. (See the 13th March & 14 March 2012 entries).

Bearing in mind that when ordering my replacement commode initially I specifically asked them for one suitable for males, you can imagine my disappointment therefore when the replacement chair arrived except for this 2 inch wide gap in the front of the padded seat and there was also a break in the frill in the same position. These modifications in no way improved using a bottle at the same time as using the commode.

Having said that one of our Ross Nursing carers informed me that one of her patients had a male commode, which had a larger, more accommodating, hole!, but it’s only drawback being that it did not have a padded seat, but could still be used as a shower chair. I would have expected my Occupational Therapist (OT) to be aware of the availability of such an important item of equipment. I telephoned my OT explaining, yet again, the problem I was having with this commode. She was rather sharp with me and said that was only one that the NHS provided. I agreed that had I been endowed with a 12 inch long penis it might well have been possible to use the urine bottle in conjunction with this, but sadly I did not meet this specification, not even before my radical prostatectomy (when my urologist surgeon had pointed out, post operatively, “that there would be some inevitable forshortening!” This might have been a bit strong for some carers that these OT’s were pretty tough lot and had been weaned on ‘Grey’s anatomy’!There was obviously no point in arguing with her without having ascertained some positive facts, so I said fine, I will take the matter up myself.

I telephoned Ross Nursing’s Office and ask them if they would be kind enough to find out which of their patients had this male version with the larger hole, and at the same time ascertain that it was provided by the NHS, and I would take up the matter with the next level up from the OT’s. Frankly, this is a ridiculous state of affairs that no sick patient should have to get involved in and sort out for themselves. The whole point of the OT, as I understood it, is to deal with such problems

Clearly this whole sorry mess occurred through a  failure to communicate , in many cases the true meaninghaving been lost in translation . Click here to see some  instances of this type of failureto communicate .

20 June 2012

As the last few entries of this blog touch on the subject of sleep, I was very interested when’ ‘my lovely’ drew my attention to the’ body and soul health’ section of yesterday’s Times (19 June 2012) which dealt all about sleep.

I have always been, what the experts would probably label as, an insomniac. Basically, I only need about three hours deep sleep each night, although I would tend to doze in bed for around six hours. As a result I have ‘extended’ my life by about 10%. What on earth is the point of spending one third of your life in bed.

How often have you heard someone say that they cannot do with less than eight hours sleep a night? Or, put another way I can’t do less than spend a third of my life in bed. By restricting the amount of time you spend in bed you greatly enhance the probability of succeeding in one or other of your fields of endeavour during waking hours.

Okay, I will admit that with my waking pattern. I would be to be classified as an insomniac but I would refute being labelled as such. For the very reason that I decided, over the years, how much time I need to spend in bed and, as a result, normally sleep very soundly for the first 2 to 3 hours. After that I am drifting just below the level of sleep and it is during these hours that so many good ideas as have come to me, or solutions to problems, which I’ve been struggling with, become as clear as daylight. Thus, for as far back as I can remember, I have kept a neat pile of cut scrap paper on the side table to my bed, then, as and when one of these ideas springs to mind, I would scrawl a note on the top piece of paper before confining it to the floor. Sometimes there would be up to a dozen such notes most, of them , I could decipher and found useful but I must confess that, some were totally incomprehensible!

The Times supplement included an article entitled ‘On the trail of the elusive Big Sleep’ which went onto say,’ We are more tired than ever and seemingly no closer to a good night’s rest.’

It was a long article which I have no intention of trying to précis but would suggest if you are really interested in the subject, particularly if you consider you are an insomniac, then I advise you to obtain a copy of the article and read it for yourself.

One point, however, I found of particular interest, in his days of advanced technology and the ever increasing screen time to which, in particular, our young are exposed. On this point the article had this to say:

‘Researchers at the University of Gothenburg warned last week that computer and mobile phone use had a detrimental impact on sleep and found links with depression. They interviewed hundreds of people, aged 19 to 28, and concluded that we struggle with information overload. Regularly using a computer late at night is associated not only with sleep disorders but also with stress and depressive symptoms.’

Beyond that, I cannot resist listing the headings of the 10 points that the author of the article made under his overall comments of How to Sleep.

1. Take regular breaks during the day.
   
2. Follow a regular bedtime routine.
   
3. Manage the work/home boundaries.
   
4. Exercise
   
5. Minimise stimulates.
   
6. If you wake up during the night avoid looking at your clock.
   
7. Learn how to power nap.
   
8. Keep your sleep environment free of clutter and junk.
   
9. Let go of wanting to sleep well.
   
10. Check your nutrition and try supplements.
    

     

I accept that these 10 points, which are, of course, amplified in the article itself, were written by ‘a sleep and energy therapist’ who can profess an expertise which I cannot, however, I really wonder whether anyone could conscientiously follow this regime. As from me . I have certainly regularly failed to observe most of these rules, without worsening my chances of a good night’s sleep.

 

Many years ago, I did worry about the amount of sleep. I was getting and the more one worried about not sleeping the more likely you are not to be able to sleep. I resolved this dilemma in my own way. As I lay in my very comfortable, warm and cosy bed, unable to sleep, I lectured myself on my good fortune compared, for example, to the troops in the First World War who spent days or weeks, in muddy trenches, in freezing cold or wet conditions, perpetually under bombardment from the enemy, perhaps having to stay awake for two or three days, with just catnaps in between. The more I thought of the misery suffered by these brave men the more my worry about not sleeping myself diminished. The final vanishing point appeared when, after all that I convinced myself that, in any case, to miss a night’s sleep really was not the end of the world and that provided I had had a good rest all would be well, and indeed it was. Using this technique. I usually fall asleep within 10 min or so

From time to time. Articles appear in the media trying to convince us that we need a minimum of eight hours sleep. Apart from the obvious that we are all different and some might need that amount of sleep and others could well do without it, I would be bold enough to suggest that it is nonsense. By limiting the amount of time I have spent in bed, over my 78 years, I have probably added six or seven years of awake time which I have been able to dedicate to something positive. For example, in my late 50s. I was doing a Masters degree in law at King’s College London; I was writing, what have become leading textbooks on the subject of practice and procedure in litigation and arbitration, as well as doing a full weeks work. Without those few extra precious hours I would never have been able to maintain this output

 

The article also concludes that “poor sleep Cagney to diabetes, heart attacks and a lower IQ”. I have certainly managed to avoid the first two as to the level of my IQ I can only leave it to my readers to decide.